#the crushing yearning need to put it to rest

[the-bassist]

Jason Todd is his own Antigone

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[borathae]

If I Was Your Boyfriend

"If he was your boyfriend, he would give you the actual world. Sadly he is just your best friend with the biggest unrequited crush ever."

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: Unrequited Crush!AU, Idiots in Love!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance

Warnings: OC is scared of a bug (me fr), he kills it for her, he would do anything for her, yearning, unrequited feelings (? mhhm ?), listen. he may be a lil bit dense when it comes to reading signs jsjjss bless his heart, i need him as my boyfriend, so much tension between them, jsjsjs this is pure torture i want them to kiss!!, brief mention of adult toys, miscommunication because he suuucks at love confessions, protective & slightly jealous!Kook, he is the greenest flag though like seriously, the happiest end hihi, the inspo was seven mv kook, she is shorter than him because i have the hugest size kink with him and this is so self-indulgent <3, once again i need him as my boyfie

Wordcount: 10.5k

a/n: sometimes i have ideas for one specific trope without wanting to write the whole book lmaooo, so enjoy this lil slow burn fluff scenario which is so self-indulgent and fanfiction coded. also, it was inspired by a real life event where i found a bug in my bed and i had to kill it on my own :( i was being very brave about it 😔 ps: this is very unrealistic 'cause like why would you only be best friends with HIM? that wouldn't be an unrequited crush if that was me. happy birthday to kookie 💛

The call comes around two at night. Jungkook picks up with the first ring. He was working out before that.

“Hello? Are you okay?” he asks, resting his head against the edge of the sofa as he is currently sitting on the floor. He was doing sit ups before that, trying his hardest to regulate his sped-up breathing right now.

“Kook, please help me.”

Jungkook sits up straight.

“Where are you? Are you safe?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s following me. I locked it inside my room but I can still hear it.”

“Stay with me, I’m getting dressed”, he says, jumping to his feet to hurry to his front door.

“Please hurry please. I’m so scared.”

“I’m coming, don’t worry. Are you home?”

“Yes. Hurry please.”

“I’m coming, stay strong. Yeah?”

“Yes, thank you”, you say and end the call.

Jungkook curses, shoving the phone into his pants pocket. He puts on his jacket as he runs down the hallway and puts on his beanie once he is inside the elevator. He is restless in the small space, wishing for it to go quicker. It’s too slow.

“Come on, come on”, he stresses it, knowing that it is fruitless.

You are his best friend. Well, at least that is what you would call him. Best friend. Jungkook sees so much more in you. His best friend, his person of trust, his crush. He would never tell you his feelings because he doesn’t want to make it awkward. But if there were no consequences for speaking up, Jungkook would tell you that you are his dream girl. You are funny, sweet, caring, talented, intelligent, wonderful, perfect, amazing, beautiful, pretty, stunning. Yes, Jungkook thinks that you are all of these things and more. When he is close to you, his heart races and he wants to keep looking at your face. When you are sad, he wants to make you happy again and when you smile, he wants to keep it on your face. When you aren’t with him, he misses you and when you are with him, he hopes that time stops passing. You are the person he updates on the most mundane of things and whose text messages always bring a quick flutter to his chest. Your voice is the voice he could listen to for hours and your face is the face he doesn’t get tired of staring at when you and he video chat late night till you and he both run out of things to say. And at the same time, you are the person with whom Jungkook never runs out of things to talk about, if he didn’t have to breathe, he would continue to babble to you until your ears wore off. Jungkook swears that if there were no consequences for his words, he would tell you all of this. 

But alas, there are consequences and so Jungkook is left keeping his true feelings hidden.

The outcome of tonight’s phone call obviously wouldn’t have changed whether or not he had romantic feelings for you. Jungkook loves you as a friend as well. And he will always be there for his friends. Especially when they are clearly scared by something.

Jungkook rings your bell. You open the door as if you were waiting for him, grabbing him by his wrists to drag him inside. Jungkook’s entire body flutters at the feeling of your touch. 

“Finally you are here. Come in quick, please”, you tell him.

You must have been sleeping already. You are in your pyjamas and have no make-up on. Jungkook swears that you have never looked more beautiful before. 

“What happened? Did someone break in?” he asks instead of telling you that you are beautiful.

“Worse.”

“Worse?”

“Kook, there is a huge bug in my room. Please kill it.”

Jungkook stops in his tracks. You call him over for that? You stop when you feel his strength all of a sudden, looking over your shoulder. He has his right brow cocked up.

“What?” you stress.

“You give me a heart attack for that?”

“What? Of course. It’s a bug.”

Jungkook sighs in annoyance, “seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” You round him to shove him by his back. “Kill it for me, please Kook.”

“Fine, I’ll kill it”, he gives up and groans, letting you shove him to your bedroom. Jungkook would never dare to think this way, but right now he wished that you were shoving him to your room for something else. Nothing dirty of course, just cuddles. Lots of cuddles. He would literally trade both his kidneys so he could hold you in his arms until you fall asleep just once. He would make sure that you were warm and that you felt safe in his embrace. He would kiss your face and tell you sweet nothings like how he thinks of you when he listens to love songs and how he wishes that it was you and he whenever he sees a romantic scene in a movie.

God, Jungkook is so done for. 

“Where is this stupid bug?” he acts annoyed to make the yearning a little easier. It is difficult when you have your hands on his back and they are so, so warm.

“In there.” You open the door carefully and look around. “Follow me”, you say, tiptoeing into your room.

Jungkook follows you, smiling fondly. You are cute when you are acting like this. 

“Where is it?” he asks, trying his hardest not to think about how he wants to snuggle you for being cute.

“I don’t know. It was right there when I last saw it.”

“Maybe it’s already gone.”

“No, it was-” 

The bug flies past you, you scream instantly, jumping at Jungkook for help.

“The bug! Eeeek Kooook! I hate bugs!” you squeak, hiding away in his chest.

Jungkook hopes that you can’t feel his racing pulse, because it is racing. You never touched him like this before, let alone snuggled so close to him. 

Act cool. Act cool. Act cool. 

He wraps one arm around you, patting the back of your head. 

“There, there you big baby”, he teases.

“I hate bugs so much”, you whine, snuggling closer.

He glances down at you, feeling every beat his heart takes.

Act cool! Act cool! Act cool!

What if he wrapped both arms around you? Would that go too far? He wouldn’t mean anything dirty behind it, he just really wants to hug you and feel you melt in his arms.

“Kill it, Kook please”, you whine and move your head so you were looking up at him. Your eyes lock.

Jungkook bites down on his tongue, forgetting to breathe for just a few moments.

ACT COOL! ACT COOL! ACT COOL!

What if he cupped your face right here and now to kiss your nose and cheeks and forehead and chin and lips and eyes? What if he did that?

“Please kill it.”

“I am, you gotta let go for that”, he gets out, surprised at how normal his voice sounds eventhough he is currently losing his mind.

Please don’t let go. Please don’t let go. 

You let go. Disappointment from his side. You hide behind him and grab his waist for moral support. Butterflies in his tummy, his knees buckle a little. Holy moly. Holy moly. Wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow. 

“You’re seriously so brave for this”, you tell him.

“Yeah, yeah or maybe you’re just a scaredy cat.”

He has no idea how he is able to talk properly right now when you have him literally messed up. 

Jungkook inches close to where the bug is sitting on the wall while his thoughts and heart are racing. He has to act nonchalant about the situation. You are only holding him like this because you are scared.

“Do you have a shoe?” he asks you, hating his hand for shaking when he presents it to you.

You bend down and take off your right slipper, “will this do?” 

“Perfect.” 

Jungkook takes the slipper and carefully moves closer to the bug. Your fingers tighten on his waist.

“Careful now”, you comment.

“I am” he gets out, concentrating vigorously. He can’t mess up now, you are counting on him. 

“Almost there. Almost there”, you cheer him on.

Jungkook slams the shoe down. The bug has no chance of escape. You scream.

“Gotcha.”

“Did you get it? Is it dead? Kook, is it dead?”

Jungkook lifts the slipper and looks at the squished bug on its sole. He shows it to you.

“Dead.”

“Yay, it’s dead. Ew how nasty, you can see the intestines.”

“Right. Give me a minute, I’m cleaning it.”

“Use acid for it. Just to be sure it doesn’t come back.

He chuckles, “sure, I’ll use acid.”

He leaves you in your bedroom to hurry to the bathroom. 

Your apartment is familiar to him. He spends a lot of time here. Mostly to chill on your couch and watch shows with you. Sometimes you also cook dinner together and then eat it by the table, while other times you do a workout together. Seriously, you are his fucking dream girl. 

One time as you and he were cooking together, he needed something from the shelf above you, but you couldn’t step away from the stove. So he got it while you were right in front of him and his chest brushed against your back and he swears that he heard your breath hitch for a moment. Jungkook wanted to hug you back then. When you later that evening turned to let him taste the cooking only to use the same fork to taste it yourself, Jungkook almost kissed you. 

One time when you were watching a show, you got cold hands and Jungkook offered to warm them for you. He didn’t think you would accept, but you did and so he ended up with your cold hands under his hoodie as you warmed them up on his skin. Jungkook swears that he wanted to pin you against the sofa and kiss your cute face back then.

One time when you were doing a workout together, you struggled with a movement and asked him for help. He ended up having to hold you by your hips as he guided you through the movement. He wanted to flip you and kiss you senseless back then. 

He never felt like this before. He was scared of these feelings at first, but now he can’t get enough. You are a foodie, a romance lover and a lover for couple workouts and it’s so impossible for him not to be in love. You are seriously his dream girl. There is no fucking way around this.

Jungkook knows that tonight will be such a memory as well. the kind of memory which tingles, but which also makes him regret that he didn’t act differently. When you cuddled into him, he wanted to hug you properly. When you grabbed his waist he wanted to turn in your grasp and kiss you against the door. But he knows that he can’t. He would ruin what you are having and he could never get over this heartbreak.

Jungkook looks at your toothbrush as he cleans the shoe. Sometimes he thinks about how it would feel to be represented in your bathroom as the second toothbrush right next to yours.  

Jungkook bites down on his tongue, burning holes into the empty space next to your toothbrush. He would put so much effort into taking care of himself so you could always look at the best version of him. He would do skincare nights with you. He would try out hair masks with you and rub body lotion on the spots you can’t reach. He would brush his teeth, floss them and use mouthwash religiously just so his kisses would always taste good. He would do all of this if it meant you had an attractive boyfriend.

Jungkook looks away. He is doing it again, he is getting delusional. He shouldn’t do that. It isn’t his right. 

He turns off the water and leaves the bathroom so he could return the slipper to you.

You are in the kitchen, looking at him instantly.

“Is it gone?” you ask him.

“Yup, it’s gone. Your slipper.”

“Thank you seriously. You just saved my life”, you say and lift a bottle of his favorite beer. “Thank You Beer?”

He shakes his head, “I need to drive.”

“Okay. Then a Thank You Water?”

“Yeah, I can drink that.”

Jungkook accepts the offer because he can stay with you longer that way.

“Coming right up. Get comfy in the meantime.”

Jungkook waits on the sofa, but stands up when you come inside the room. He accepts the water and sits back down. You plop down right in front of him, pulling your legs onto the pillow. Your knees are almost touching the side of thigh.

“You seriously saved my ass tonight. I was already in bed when I felt something tickle my arm and then I turned on the lights and it was right on my arm. I screamed so loud, you have no idea.”

“That sounds traumatic.”

“It was traumatic.” You shudder. “I hate bugs.”

Jungkook laughs softly.

“What? Are you laughing at me?”

“No, just laughing ‘cause I agree. You really hate bugs.”

“I do. Awful things, seriously.”

He laughs and you laugh as well. Your eyes meet again. He takes a sip of his water then asks a question which scares him a little.

“Why did you call me?”

“Why not?”

“I, I mean”, he stutters, feeling his heart do somersaults.

“You were my first thought. It’s probably because you’re always keeping me safe.”

Jungkook swears he wants to kiss you right now. He is the first person you think of when you need help. He is your safe person. Wow, wow, wow.

“Is that weird to say?” you ask him shyly.

“Not at all”, he gets out in a terribly hoarse voice.

“Okay phew. I knew that I could count on you.”

Jungkook gives you a smile. One you retort with a vast glance at his lips.

Jungkook brings the empty glass to the kitchen to clean it after he finishes it. You follow him. 

“You don’t have to clean that”, you tell him, trying to reach for the glass but he moves it away.

“I got it”, he assures you, looking at you over his arm.

You and he are so close again. He can’t stop looking into your eyes. He knows that he is delusional, but in his mind, your eyes are so bright when you look at him. But it’s not real and he is acting stupid when he is staring like that. He turns his head away, blind to the few more seconds your eyes seem to linger on his face.

“What were you doing when I called you?” you ask him, watching his hands as he washes the glass.

“Working out.”

“Really? At this time?”

“That’s when I get energised.”

“Of course you do. What were you doing?”

“Just stuff on the floor.”

“Nice. Like push ups and stuff?”

“Yeah and sit ups.”

“That’s cool.” 

He has his back turned to you, putting away the glass. He is wearing a white oversized shirt, but the movement makes it stick to his body, showing not only his skinny waist but also his built, muscular back. His shoulders grew so much over the past seven months. (Seven months ago was when you decided to download a dating app and told Jungkook about it. Jungkook started working out harder since then.) 

He closes the cupboard and turns. 

“Something wrong?” he asks, somehow oblivious to your stares. 

“Nothing, no uhm.” You look to the side. “You probably wanna leave now?”

He doesn’t want to leave.

“If you still need me here, I can stay”, he offers.

Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

“Really?”

He nods his head, giving you a sweet smile with teeth. He would do anything for you, even mess up his sleep schedule.

“Maybe there is another bug, you know?” you say, playing with your own fingers shyly.

His heart is jumping in joy. He can stay longer. 

“That could be possible, yeah. Should we check?” he offers as calmly as possible.

“Yeah, please.”

Yay! Yay! Yay!

“I know I sound so stupid.”

“You don’t. Come on, I’ll check.”

You and he go to your bedroom together. Jungkook wants to hold your hand, but knows that he can’t. You close the door to your bedroom. His pulse flutters for a moment. In another lifetime, this would be the moment you pull him into a kiss. But Jungkook knows that stupid things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies, not reality.

He has to act as your best friend who doesn’t have a crush on you if he wanted to or not. He lifts your blanket and shakes it out.

“No bugs”, he comments.

“That’s good, yeah. I should probably check the pillows.”

You crawl onto bed and make it your job to flip each individual pillow. Jungkook looks at you for a moment. He hates that things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies. Because in a different lifetime, he jumps onto bed with you to hug you. He listens to your giggle and makes you giggle even harder by tickling your sides.

You, oblivious to his longing stares, flip yet another pillow. 

“No bugs here, thank god. I probably sound insane to you, but I’m actually so scared that there’s a whole bug family in this room.”

“You don’t sound insane. I’ll take care of them if we find them.”

“You’re seriously my hero.”

Jungkook is thinking. Maybe he could still make you laugh, he thinks. Not by showering you in skinship, but differently. 

“Hey, check this out”, he says.

“What? Did you find another bug?!” you gasp, whipping around instantly.

“I’m a bug. Bzzz”, he says and jumps onto bed, flapping his arms as if he was a bug flying.

You cough out air, following it up with a loud laugh.

Jungkook flops onto his back and wiggles his limps.

“Now I’m flipped onto my back and can’t get up”, he says, squirming from side to side stupidly. “Help me. Bzzzz.”

You laugh to the point it becomes just a little ugly and way too loud. At least you would call it that. Jungkook calls it the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. He loves to be goofy when it means that he can make you laugh. Some people call him childish and tell him to act his age, but Jungkook doesn’t care about these people because you love the way he is. You always smile and laugh so much when he gets goofy and childish and it is so worth every rude comment he gets. One time, he played around with a snapback hat, acting silly with it until you cackled loudly. Another time he showed you a card trick with goofy sound effects, basking in the giggles you gave him. He knows that he looks stupid in these moments, but he would literally turn into a silly jester if it meant that you could laugh just one more time.

“Help me, I’m a bug and I can’t get up”, he whines dramatically.

“Wait, I’ll help you”, you joke and place your hands on his torso. One on his chest, the other on his stomach.

He tenses up like a board of wood, forgetting all about being silly. His limbs drop, as does his heart. You are touching him! This never happened before when he acted goofy. What should he do? What is the correct reaction to this?

“Why are you such a heavy bug? I can’t flip you”, you are still being playful with him, but Jungkook can’t find humour anymore. He is starstruck. 

He chuckles deeply, letting out a breathy, “yeah.” 

You glance at him. The second your eyes meet, his heart is racing. You are so fucking beautiful. 

“Heh”, he lets out and places his hand over yours, eyes flitting to your lips unknowingly.

“Hm”, you let out, studying his gazing eyes. Your lips feel kissed just from his look. 

“Mhm”, he hums and smiles, shimmying his head just a little closer to you. He feels your minty breath swirl over his face like this, squeezing your hand in reaction. What if he just did it? What if he just kissed you right here and now?

Your smile falls.

“Sorry”, you whisper, pulling your hands back and sitting up. 

Jungkook gasps for air, coming back to reality. What was this moment? Is he going crazy? Why would he do that?

Your eyes meet for a brief second then you look away again, rubbing the side of your neck.

Jungkook sits up, “I should, uhm, probably check under the bed too, right?” he tries to change topics and rolls over to stick his head under the bed. He might die of heart palpitations.

There are a few boxes under the bed, some shoe boxes and an exposed adult toy. Jungkook does a double take. Oh god, panic.

Jungkook shoots back up, staring at you with big eyes.

“What?”

“You uhm…”

“What?” You crawl to the edge and bend down to look, shooting up again within a second, “What did you see??”

His entire face flushes, he looks to the side instantly, right hand coming to rub the side of his neck. Your entire face feels on fire, you want to die on the spot.

“I, I didn’t see anything I swear”, he stutters.

“Kook, please don’t remember this”, you insist, shaking him by his shoulders.

“It’s seriously fine”, he assures you, panicking so so much.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s okay. Sorry for invading your space like that.”

“I’m actually gonna cry, please don’t remember this”, you beg him.

“I didn’t even see anything”, he lies, feeling his heart give up. For real, it will give up. He feels so guilty. You are so upset and uncomfortable and it’s all his fault. “I’m sorry.”

“No you, I guess, I don’t know, I just”, you stutter, unable to form any coherent sentences.

Jungkook feels just as awkward as you, suddenly needing to stand up.

“I think I should go”, he says.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s getting late.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You fucked it. You are internally panicking, blind to the fact that Jungkook is panicking as well.

His face is so red and it’s making him scared that you can see it. He doesn’t want you to think that he is imagining you like that, because he really isn’t. But for just a second it crossed his mind and it managed to dye his face so red that he feels like crying. Of course he wants to stay with you. Of course he wants to spend every single second of this night with you, talking and laughing and looking at you, but he might not be able to get rid of this blush right now. He needs to leave.

You follow behind him, panicking more and more. You let him put on his shoes and his beanie, you watch him close his jacket unable to say anything. You swear that you always clean up after yourself, but you were busy this morning and forgot to put it away after sanitizing it. Jungkook was never supposed to see it. Not him. Everyone but him.

“I’ll text you once I’m home”, Jungkook tells you.

“You’re not disgusted now, are you?” you finally get the scary words out.

“What?”

You are both dragging out the inevitable. 

“I don’t know, just…I tried the dating app stuff. I met people, you know?”

Jungkook feels like dying when you talk about this stuff. He stands in the apartment complex hallways, looking at you as you tell him about your hook ups and he wants to fucking die as he does. He has been loyal to you ever since he started this stupid crush on you. Of course he knows that it is impossible of him to expect the same from you. But he has been so fucking loyal to you that you literally broke his heart seven months ago when you told him about your newest download. He wasn’t strong enough to get over his crush, so now he dies all over again each time you tell him about your hook-ups.

“And it just felt weird. I couldn’t do it”, you confess.

“Really?” suddenly what happened before is wiped from his mind. You never went through with it? His loyalty was reciprocated? Jungkook knows that he is being so delusional right now and yet he still hangs on to your every word like a worshipper of your syllables, staring at your lips as you talk.

“Yeah, but I still have needs, you know? Oh god, why did I say that? This didn’t make it better. Just forget I ever said anything.”

“I, I didn’t hear anything”, Jungkook stutters, feeling weak-kneed. The wall between him being a good person and a reckless person is as fragile as a sheet of fresh ice. One wrong step from you and he might actually confess how he really feels.

“Okay good, let’s keep it at that.” You push at his chest. Jungkook swears he actually whimpers as you do it. “Go home and let us forget about all of this, please.”

Should he do it? Should he be reckless?

You step back, now standing in your apartment.

Do it! Open, mouth!

“Text me once you’re home, okay?”

“Okay.”

No! This isn’t the right thing to say! Be reckless!

“Thank you for tonight, sleep tight.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Tell her! Fucking tell her!

The door closes.

Jungkook falls out of his fearful trance, gasping for air. His heart tells him to knock for another chance, his mind tells him not to. He turns and leaves, hitting his own head as punishment for being the most stupid person that ever existed. Tonight could have gone so well. He could have had more time with you, he got the confirmation that you never tried the dating app thing, he had everything and he has to ruin it by being a creep. Why did he look under your bed? That’s where most people store their sexy stuff. Why did he have to make you uncomfortable? What if you never want to see him again? What if he ruined your friendship without ever doing the one thing he always wished to ruin it with? In his dreams he always ruined it by confessing his feelings, but his reality was because he was a creep.

Jungkook cries in his car on his way home. He forgets about texting you and spends a sleepless night regretting his choices.

Maybe he did fall asleep, otherwise it would be impossible for his phone to rip him awake the next day. He barely opens his puffy eyes at first, but opens them widely when he sees that it is you calling him.

“Hello?” he picks up hastily.

“Oh thank god. You didn’t text me last night and I was worried.”

The text! Jungkook slaps his own forehead, sitting up straight.

“I’m so sorry, I…”

“It’s okay, I already had a gist that you forgot”, you assure him, “do you have time?” 

“Of course, what’s up?”

“You know, uhm.” You laugh in embarrassment. “Last night was a mess, wasn’t it?”

“No uhm, it’s fine.”

“You wouldn’t be down for a grocery trip with barbeque and beer afterwards, would you? My treat, as an apology for traumatising you.”

“Of course, I would. Today?”

“Yes, in like two hours? I’ll get off work soon and could go straight to the store.”

You and Jungkook often go grocery shopping together. You already have a favourite store to go to. Jungkook loves these moments. He loves to carry the heavy bags for you and get the stuff you can’t reach. He loves to push the cart while you tell him about your day and then load the groceries into the bags with you. In another lifetime, you and he push the cart together and he steals kisses between aisles. In another lifetime, he holds your hand and the bags in the other. And in another lifetime, you and he go to your apartment to cook dinner for date night on the couch. Jungkook really wishes to live a different life sometimes.

“Two hours sounds great”, he agrees in a cool voice even if he wants to squeal. He gets to go grocery shopping with you! How amazing!

“Nice, then we’ll see each other there.”

“Yes, we’ll see each other. I’m really excited for it.”

“Me too. See you later, yeah? My boss is coming back.”

“See you later. Good luck at work.” 

“Thanks, Kook. Bye bye.”

Goodbye, my everything, my dream girl, my love. He thinks.

“Bye.” He says.

The phone call ends. Jungkook drops back into the pillow and lets out a yelp of celebration, following it up with excessive kicking and punching of the air as well as  squeaky giggles. 

He didn’t ruin everything and he will see you in two hours. Today is the best day of his life! But wait! Jungkook gasps and jumps out of bed.

“I need to get ready! Shower and wash my hair and pick an outfit! And do my skincare and brush my teeth! There is so much to do, oh god” he talks to himself, running through his apartment.

You are pacing in front of the store. Jungkook isn’t late, you are just early. Early enough to become painfully aware of your nervousness. You wonder how it will be between the two of you after last night. You could barely fall asleep because you were so embarrassed. Work didn’t distract you either, your thoughts kept repeating what had happened last night. You hope that he doesn’t look at you differently after what he had to see. It would literally ruin you.

Jungkook is your best friend. But if someone asked you honestly, you would say that he is the boy of your dreams. He is everything you ever dreamed of and everything you will never be able to have. He is too perfect for you. If there were no consequences for your actions, you would tell him how you really feel. You would tell him that you think that he is the most attractive man and person you have ever seen, that he is the kindest soul with the sweetest heart. That he is talented and amazing and the funniest person ever. And that you feel safe with him. 

You would tell him that every time he comes to your place or you to his’ and you spend time together, you wish that it was a date instead. You want to tell him that every time your bodies touch, your heart jumps out of your chest. You want to tell him that you keep repeating all the moments with him over and over again and that sometimes at work, you text him because you can’t stop thinking about him. You also want to tell him that you thought about killing the bug yourself before deciding to call Jungkook just to have him close.

And the worst of it all? You want to tell Jungkook that the only reason why you downloaded the dating app was to get over your feelings for him because you knew that someone as perfect as Jungkook would never want to have you. But actions have consequences and so you call him your best friend whilst secretly wishing for him to just be reckless and kiss you.

Jungkook appears on the horizon, swerving through the crowd in a stoic expression. Your heart speeds up instantly. He is wearing black pants with a stripped shirt and a black jacket today. His hair falls on soft waves, his skin glows in the sun. He is so dreamy and handsome. 

His eyes find you in front of the store, his face lights up and he lifts his arm to wave at you. You wave back, bouncing on your tiptoes. He saw you! He is waving at you! 

He hurries through the crowd faster than before, reaching you within moments.

“Hey there”, he says.

“Hey”, you tell him and give him a hug. 

Jungkook short circuits. He gets no time to react before you already step back again. You just hugged him. Holy moly, wow. 

“Sorry, was that not okay?” you ask, studying his frozen features.

“What?” He flinches back to life. “No, it was amazing, I mean, it was okay. I uhm, I have this for you.”

He lifts a bouquet of sunflowers.

“Sunflowers? For me?”

“Yeah, I saw them and thought of you.”

“You did?”

You accept them with shortened breath and a quickened heart. You are currently screeching inside. You feel on cloud nine.

“A-as a best friend of course, because we’re best friends.”

“Oh. Yes.” You clear your throat. “We are. Thank you for the friendship flowers. I’ll put them in water once I’m home. Hopefully they’ll survive till then.” 

“I’m sure they will. That’s why I put the paper towel there.”

“I know, I saw. That’s so clever.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He does a little twirl so he stands next to you, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants in a cute way. “So what do we need? Any particular groceries in mind?” 

You and he start walking to the store. He opens the door for you, holding it until you are inside. He follows and goes straight for the carts. You are next to him.

“Yes, I’m out of multigrain rice so I’m buying all of them to make my mixture again and I wanna stock up on udon because they have a sale going on.”

“Neat, a sale. I’ll get some too”, Jungkook says, leaning his elbows on the cart as he pushes it. “I wanna see if they have the lychees again. They were so yummy last time.”

“They were. Especially with that sauce you made.”

“I can make them for you again.”

“Really?” 

He nods his head, “sure, you could come over Saturday and we’ll watch a movie. I heard that there’s a few new movies to stream.”

“I should be free on Saturday.”

“Nice, then you’ll come over.”

You and he exchange a look, breaking it quickly to look at opposite sides. Unbeknownst to either, you are both panicking. Jungkook is so excited to have you come over but is also terribly nervous about the aspect of it. You can’t wait to visit Jungkook but are also scared of the yearning. 

A moment of silence where you each fill the cart with stuff you want. You and Jungkook always fill up the cart together and then separate the groceries afterwards. In another lifetime, you don’t need to separate the groceries. In another lifetime, you share the same bag and fill the same fridge to cook from the same pots and eat on your shared couch whilst a show was running. 

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks because other lifetimes don’t exist and in his real life, the only shared thing he gets with you is time.

“It was okay. Yours?”

“I woke up like two hours ago.”

You chuckle, “of course you sleep while I have to work my ass off.”

“Hey, I’m on a well-deserved break, I earned the night owl lifestyle”, he throws back, making you laugh with it.

“I’m not saying anything against it. I need a break soon.”

“Is work stressful?”

“Yeah, quite. There’s been lots of new projects coming in.”

“No, I’m sorry. If there is something I can do, let me know.”

You look at him. 

“I will, thank you.”

In another lifetime, you would hug his arm and rest your head against it and you would tell him that you don’t mind a stressful workday when it meant spending time with him afterwards. 

Jungkook meets your eyes. His heart flutters nervously, speeding up more when you look away. If he was your boyfriend, he would hold your hand and tell you that you looked beautiful after a long work day. 

“I like the way you did your hair today”, he says instinctively. He has no idea why he said that because he never says stuff like that to you. He panics because of it. His tongue worked quicker than his brain. 

You reach up to feel your hair, “you do?”

“Yes, it fits you really well.” 

“Thank you”, you murmur and cross a corner without warning, leaving him alone for a few seconds.

Jungkook follows after you hastily, confused as to why you so abruptly fled. Oh no. He went too far with the compliment. He definitely creeped you out again. 

You are squatting down in front of the grain section, reading the labels carefully. Jungkook parks the cart next to you, standing still. He tries not to, but still looks at you. You shift your eyes to him, widen them and look away again. Jungkook swears he might cry. He made you uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry for saying that. I, I meant it as a friend.”

“Hm? Ah, it’s okay. Thank you for saying it, I liked it”, you say and stand up, filling the cart with the grain. Jungkook’s heart flutters happily. He didn’t mess up. Yay!

“Got everything you wanted?” he asks.

“Yep, except black rice. Do you see it somewhere?”

“Up there”, Jungkook says, pointing at it. The lower racks are empty, only the racks which are clearly for staff to reach so they could refill the store are stacked with the rice. 

“Nice.” You try to reach it, but fail. “Kook, can you get it?”

“Sure, let me”, he says, stepping right behind you to get the rice from the staff rack. His chest brushes against your back. You gasp. He feels dizzy, but acts nonchalant.

“There we go your….rice”, Jungkook says, eyes flitting down to you looking up at him. He didn’t even realise that you turned. 

There is almost no distance and so Jungkook tries to step back to be respectful because friends don’t stand this close. You grab him by his jacket, making him gulp and panic greatly. His left hand grabs the edge of the shelf, his chest lifts in a deep gasp. You are taller today because of the shoes you are wearing. The shortened distance between your lips is making him dizzy.

“About last night”, you begin, but he interrupts you before you apologise for something you have no reason to.

“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have snooped, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t snoop, I just…I clean up, I was just busy and forgot and I”, you exhales deeply, “I’m not making it any better talking by about it, am I?”

He laughs softly and reaches down to cup your hand, caressing your knuckles softly. The lines blur more and more. You both feel weightless. You can smell his cologne like this, he can smell your perfume. It’s like you are high on each other.

“If it makes you feel any better, I have some toys too”, he says, making your eyes widen. You look to the side and let out a giggle. Jungkook knows that it is of shy nature and so he giggles with you. “Did that help or did I just embarrass myself for nothing?”

“No, it helped.” You meet his eyes, fingers squeezing his jacket. 

Jungkook holds his breath, fingers tightening on the shelf. He is being so greedy. It’s so unfair to you. 

“I, uhm.” He clears his throat and slips his hand from the shelf to present the rice to you. “Your rice.”

“Oh? Thanks, uhm, put it in the cart.” 

He steps back. Your hands slip from his jacket, his fingers stop holding you. They tingle in the memory of how it was to cradle you this way. His thoughts are racing, trying to calculate the weight of his confession. If he confessed, what would he lose? Your friendship, your time, the movie hangouts, the cooking together, the shared workouts, your texts and calls and video chats. All your laughter and smiles and giggles. Jungkook gulps. The loss is too great. He can’t confess. Nope, never. 

He grips the cart and pushes it, hoping that walking it off will help with the heart palpitations. You walk next to him, resting your hand on the metal cage part of the cart.

“Did you sleep well last night?” he asks you.

“Can I be honest? Not really. I was so embarrassed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m just awkward.”

He chuckles, you chuckle with him. You give him a glance.

“I think I don’t have to ask you if you slept well at night because you never sleep at night.”

He laughs, you do as well.

“That’s not true. I can sleep at night too, I simply choose not to. Oh wait. I need buckwheat noodles.”

You and he stop in front of the section. You stay by the cart while Jungkook browses the options. 

“Should I make you makguksu?” he offers mindlessly.

“Today?”

“Yeah.”

“So you don’t wanna go for barbecue and beer?” You chuckle and nudge his arm, sending tingles all over his skin. “Did you already forget again, you doofus?”

“I might have.” He gives you a sorry, cute smile.

Jungkook makes you laugh with it.

“Kook, you little scatterbrain you”, you chuckle, leaning into him. 

Jungkook leans closer, placing his arm around your waist without touching you. In another lifetime, he would close the last distance. But not in reality. He looks at your lips, asking himself why you seek him out today and why he takes the chances so greedily. He shouldn’t do that. You are just friends, nothing more.

“Uh, sorry”, you say and step away again. 

Jungkook gulps, gasps for air. He doesn’t understand what today means, but whatever you are doing is actually messing with him. He hasn’t been able to breathe properly ever since that hug you gave him. You seem so clingy, but he doesn’t understand why. 

You grab the cart and push it.

“I think I have everything I need. You?”

“Yeah, yeah sure”, Jungkook stutters, stumbling after you like a lovesick puppy. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and so he ends up stuffing them into his pants pockets while his eyes are glued to the back of your head. He is seriously under your spell. Every part of him.

You load the groceries on the conveyor belt together and then load them into separate bags. You pay for all of them and wish the cashier a good day. Jungkook carries the bags like always, while you are allowed to walk freely with the bouquet of flowers cradled in your arms.

“I’ll pay you back at home”, he says, swerving outside as you hold the door open for him.

“Today’s on me. As a thank you for yesterday and an apology.”

“What? But I bought so much”, Jungkook gasps, pouting sadly.

“It’s fine. I have money.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m paying.”

Jungkook pouts, huffing out air in defeat.

“Fine, but I’ll pay for your stuff too one day.”

You chuckle, “deal.” 

You and he walk together.

“You should really start accepting when I offer. It’s not a competition.”

“I just feel uncomfortable making you pay.”

“Why?”

Because you’re his dream girl and you should never have to pay for him. He should be your wallet whenever you are out together, he should fulfil your every wish. 

“I don’t know, just so. You work so hard for your money.”

“You work just as hard”, you say and chuckle. “Kook, you’re so competitive.”

Jungkook smiles, shaking his head in defeat. 

“I guess am.”

You grin, hugging the flowers tighter. With a little skip in your steps, you close the distance. Just enough that one small movement would be enough for your arms to brush. 

Jungkook glances at you. You are gazing at the flowers, smiling so brightly that your nose scrunches up. He could swear that your eyes are sparkling. 

The lines blur again. He wonders if it would be okay for him to be a bad person, if he was allowed to slip his hand into yours even if you never gave him consent for it. There is not much he can still take.

You lower your nose into the flowers and smell them, closing your eyes in a happy squint. The metaphorical glass of how much Jungkook can take floats over.

He says your name and knows that the next words are coming out of him before he can think them through.

“Yeah?” You look at him.

He is nervous and scared, but still talks, “can we talk about something?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

Panic. His situation finally sunk into his consciousness. 

“I uhm…uh…I have a crush on someone.”

Microexpressions wash over your face. Shock, surprise, disbelief, jealousy, hurt, friendliness. A smile curls your lips. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Yeah? It’s about time you do”, the words and your voice carry a hint of teasing, but most of all forced friendliness.

You lower the flowers, carrying them in one hand by your side. They look sad like this. Jungkook doesn’t notice because he is staring at the road in front of him because otherwise he would pass out in nervousness. He is almost twenty seven, but feels sixteen again.

“She’s like really, really great and awesome and amazing and wonderful and so kind and perfect”, Jungkook continues, heart racing to the point he feels dizzy. He saw this kind of confession in movies. He always thought that it was so cute when the guy did it. It isn’t obvious enough to ruin everything just in case you didn’t feel the same, but it is still cute enough that you can’t help but be giddy.

“Mh-hm”, you hum, nodding your head. 

“And I keep thinking about her. She is so pretty when she laughs and I love being in her presence. She likes my jokes and she always makes me laugh in return. Yeah…”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah, she is so great. I really wanna ask if she feels the same.” Jungkook falters in nervousness. He is going to ask the question. He is so scared. “If you were me, what would you do?”

You take a deep breath and release it loudly, “I don’t know. I haven’t had a crush in so long.”

Jungkook falters, heart tightening. Oh no. Oh no, oh no. Oh. This is bad. This is really bad. 

“Ah, I see.” He gulps.

“But let me know if you figure it out. Then we can go on a double date.” 

Wait. Wait. This is bad. Double date? This is so bad.

“What do you mean?” he asks weakly.

“You know, you and your girl and me and my boy.”

“You have a boy?”

“Yeah, soon. I’m talking to this boy on the dating app. He is very cute.”

“But…didn’t you say that you gave up on the app?”

“No uh…no, it’s just that I only talk to this one boy now.”

Jungkook bites back tears.

“I see.” 

“Mhm, yeah. Let’s go on a double date.”

No. No this is all wrong. No this isn’t what was meant to happen. No. 

“Please.”

Jungkook doesn’t even realize that he begged out loud until you look at him in question.

“Please what?”

You and he stop. Strangers stream past you like you and he were two rocks in a river. You are facing each other, so close yet so far away. 

You lied to him. There is no other boy. There never was and never will be. But there will always be other girls for him while you stay his best friend. Lying is all that you have at this point. 

“Please what?” you repeat the question.

“I…” Jungkook breathes. “I…nevermind.”

Silence. Your eyes are locked so deeply that the world around you is blurry.

“Okay?”

“Mhm yeah.”

His jaw tightens and he breaks the eye contact, looking to the side with his tongue in his cheek. He seemed angry. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t feeling angry yourself. You turn away from him and continue walking. You don’t want to be next to him right now. It hurts to only stay his best friend.

He looks at the back of your head and how it becomes smaller and smaller from distance. He doesn’t understand you. He thought that the way you looked at him in the store meant something. And yet all this time you had another boy. He feels so betrayed that for just a second, he considers walking the other direction and leaving you to wonder where he went. However, two things hold him back; his competitiveness and his honest feelings for you.

He won’t stay your best friend any longer. He just decided that. He is going to fight for you, make you fall for him and forget all about the stupid boys you meet on this stupid dating app. He is better than any of them. He could treat you better, make you laugh harder, give you better hugs and kisses and provide you with afterglow so addicting you will get hot cheeks at work just thinking about it. He is your best friend, goddamn it, and he knows you better than any of these strangers ever will. And he is not going to lose you to some boy.

He jogs to catch up with you, calling your name with a certain harshness.

You turn. Your eyes meet. Jungkook’s brain short circuits.

“What?” you ask him, sounding small because of being called so harshly.

“I, I was just wondering, uhm, should we get ice cream after?” he asks because he panicked.

You shrug your shoulders, “I guess.”

“It’s on me, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Jungkook inches closer, saying your name softly.

“What do you want?”

“I messed up before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I, I just. I thought that I was doing a good job, but I think I made you think something else.”

“Jungkook. I had a long day, please don’t talk in riddles.”

“Don’t date other boys.”

“Excuse me?”

Jungkook gulps, panicking because of your offended and harsh tone.

“I, I, I just”, he stutters, widening his eyes.

“No. What do you mean? I can date who I want.”

“I know, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that, oh god, I meant that I don’t want you to see other boys.”

“Huh?”

“Ah no, wait.”  He slaps his own forehead. “Wait.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, “what makes you think that you can tell me what I can or can’t do?”

“No I didn’t mean it like that. Wait just give me a moment, please I’m panicking.”

You purse your lips, studying his face intensely.

“Are you also so nervous?” he asks.

“What’s with you all of a sudden?” you ask him, honestly worried. His face is as red as ripe strawberries.

Jungkook closes the distance and takes your hands, eliciting a gasp from you. He squeezes them gently, staring into your eyes as deeply as possible.

“This wasn’t how I always imagined this to go, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. ___, the girl I have a crush on is-”

“Seriously?”

You and Jungkook turn around at the angry voice next to you.  

“Suho? What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Who’s that?” Jungkook says.

“Kim Suho. I met him on the dating app. We went on like one date a month ago”, you explain and slip your hands out of Jungkook’s hold to turn to the other guy, “what are you doing here?”

Jungkook stares at him darkly, clenching his jaw. You told him about this dude in passing. He hates him so much, hating him even more now that he interrupted this moment.

“That’s what you’re going with? Seriously?” Suho throws back.

“Yeah, you-”

“What the fuck are you doing with him? I told you to stop being friends with him, didn’t I?”

Jungkook looks at you with big eyes. You never told him that. You always said that you lost interest in Suho because of different hobbies, but never mentioned that he could have been the actual reason.

“And I told you that you can’t tell me what to do. Jungkook is my best friend and I won’t give him up for a man.”

“Yes but I wasn’t any man, I was your man.”

“Huh? No you weren’t. We went on one date and you totally lost it when I told you that I had a male best friend.”

“Because he isn’t just your friend. You’re in love with him.”

Jungkook swears that he passes out standing up for a second. Feelings? You have feelings for him? Did you tell Suho that or is he assuming because he is one of those weird men that think women aren’t allowed to have male friends? What does all of this mean?

“What?” You laugh nervously. “No? Of course not.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous. I followed you from work and through the store. I saw everything.”

“Huh? What?” you gasp, hurrying to Jungkook instinctively because you know that he will keep you safe.

“Dude, what the fuck? You creep, stay away from her”, Jungkook says harshly and steps in front of you, feeling the fire of protectiveness start to burn in his chest.

“I saw what I saw. You have feelings for each other”, Suho says, pointing an accusing finger at you and Jungkook.

Jungkook and you exchange a look. 

“No I…”

Suho scoffs and looks at Jungkook.

“And you? Gonna fucking pretend that you’re just friends or should I start punching you?”

“Dude, I’ve never even met you”, Jungkook defends himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’ll still fucking punch you.”

“Don’t you dare”, you hiss at him.

“Shut up, ___.”

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that”, Jungkook speaks up loudly, making himself bigger. He doesn’t care when people are aggressive to him, but he cannot accept aggression towards you.

“Or what?”

“You wanna find out? Don’t talk to her like that.”

Suho rushes to Jungkook and pushes at his chest. He thought that he could move him, but he can’t. Jungkook just gawks at him in utter surprise.

“What are you doing?” he asks confused.

“Why aren’t you budging? Fall over you idiot”, Suho growls and tries again with all his might. 

Jungkook takes a small step back but then stays unmoving. 

“Dude, seriously. What are you doing?”

Suho growls and punches Jungkook. Except that he is so bad at it that Jungkook can easily dodge him. He reacts calmly to the aggression, redirecting Suho by turning him and giving him a gentle push away from him.

Suho stumbles and whips around.

“You-”

Jungkook steps closer, “give it up, man.”

Suho shifts his attention to you, pointing his finger at you. He tries to get to you by swerving past Jungkook, but the latter steps in front of you again, stopping Suho with a firm hand on his chest. He didn’t show it, but the contact was definitely made with strength because Suho stumbles back from it.

“I said. Give it up. I’m not gonna repeat myself again”, he warns. For just a second his voice was deeper than usual and his eyes darker. You can’t stop staring in awe, feeling so attracted to him that it is difficult not to grab him right here and now.

Suho ignores him, talking over Jungkook’s shoulder.

“It’s over. I’m breaking up with you.”

“Huh? We weren’t even together in the first place?” you say very confused.

“Yes, well…. Now it’s really over. And just so you know, I’ll block you on everything.”

“I mean, okay.”

Suho turns and runs down the street clumsily.

A moment of silence. Jungkook turns to you. He is ready to take you into his arms if you need support.

“Everything okay?” he asks hesitantly.

“Honestly? I couldn’t care less about this tantrum. What the fuck was that? We went on one date and it sucked ass. I mean, who in their right mind expects someone to give up their best friend? I don’t even know this dude.”

“Would you have done it if you liked him?”

“What? No, of course not. I like you, not him.”

“What?!”

You look at Jungkook with big eyes.

“I, I mean…” you look at his lips and Jungkook finally notices.

Holy fuck. Suho was right.

He drops the grocery bags and closes the distance, cupping your face. To his delighted surprise, you practically melt into his hands, gazing at him with dreamy eyes and your fingers closing around his wrists greedily.

“Was he right?” Jungkook asks, looking between your right and left eye. “Do you have feelings for me?”

“I’m scared”, you whisper.

“Scared of what?”

“You are so perfect and I’m not. I don’t want to know how you feel about me, so just…let’s just forget about what happened please.”

“You’re not perfect? What the fuck? You’re literally perfect. If someone’s unworthy, it’s me.”

“What?”

Jungkook gulps. 

You touch his chest.

“Kook, what?”

“You’re my fucking dream girl, ___” he finally confesses and now can’t be stopped, “I get excited when you text me and get sad when I don’t hear from you. Each time we hang out, I kinda wish that we somehow magically end up together. I repeat every little touch and shared laughter and look. Sometimes I can’t fall asleep because of you, but wish to do so because in my sleep I can meet you in my silly, wishful dreams. Do you have any idea how in love I am with you?”

“Are you serious?” 

Jungkook nods his head, forcing your tears to finally flow. He gasps and begins wiping them away instantly.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, I promise I won’t try anything. You, you won’t lose your best friend.”

“I’m just happy. So happy.”

“You are?”

“I feel the same for you. I have done so for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” You sniffle. “You’re my dream boy too, Jungkook.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god! Yippie!” he exclaims and overtaken by happiness, he swoops you off your feet to twirl with you, making you squeal happily as you hold onto him for dear life. Strangers definitely look at you weird, but you couldn’t care less. They are non-existent for you and him. He likes you and you like him back. This day is the best day you and he ever had.

He sets you down after the twirling, cradling your face so he could hold it still for way too many kisses. He gives you kisses everywhere except your lips, making you giggle and laugh and tingle the entire time.

“I’m so happy, you’re so pretty and perfect and amazing and pretty and amazing and I’m gonna kiss you there and there and there and oh my god you’re so perfect, I’m gonna kiss you there and there, wow oh wow…” he babbles between kisses, truly sending your heart into overdrive.

He probably would have continued his babbling for hours if you hadn’t stopped him by lacing your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth into a kiss.

“Andmhgmh”, he lets out, gawking at you first before the realisation of his situation sinks in. His knees buckle, his left hand grabs your hips and his right hand cradles your head, eyes falling closed. He is kissing you. He feels weightless, floating in time and space. His heart races so much that he feels it throb against his ribcage, the butterflies in his stomach are unbearably exciting. He dreamt of this moment a million times before, fantasised about it twice as much and yet he still wasn’t ready for it. Your kiss is like heaven on earth. He swears that he gains new life through it. He wants to kiss you until his lungs run out of air, but you break it.

“Was that okay for me to do?” you ask him shyly.

Now it’s his turn to spill tears and for you to wipe them.

“I’m sorry, I should have ask-”, you don’t get to finish your sentence, getting kissed again by Jungkook.

“I’m so fucking happy, you have no idea”, he murmurs, showing you his feelings one deep kiss at a time. “You taste so good.” Kiss, oh so deep. “Your lips are so soft.” Kiss, the kind which makes your knees wobble. “You’re perfect, you’re so perfect.”

You giggle, gazing up at him droopily. Jungkook giggles as well, peeling his eyes open to gaze dreamily. You and he cup each other’s faces, resting your foreheads together.

“I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too.”

“Wow, I’m so happy.”

“Me too. So happy.”

You giggle together, swaying from side to side. Nothing, truly nothing, has never felt as right as this.

“Were you trying to confess to me before Suho interrupted us?”

“Yeah.”

You giggle as you talk, “you were really shit at it. I thought you were talking about someone else.”

“I know, I panicked so bad. I was so nervous”, he is giggling too, “are you actually talking to another boy?”

“Of course not, you doofus. I lied.”

“Oh my god, I’m so relieved”, he gets out and sweeps you off your feet again, carrying you under your butt. He twirls with you, smiling up at you as you squeak and laugh with your head thrown back.

“Jungkook stop please, I’m getting dizzy.”

He sets you down, but keeps touching you, seeking your closeness by rubbing his nose against your cheek. He is so close that the sunflowers are getting squished between you and him. It is a price you sadly have to pay in exchange for finally being able to be glued together.

“I’m so happy, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Kook. So like barbeque and beer? Is it a date?” you ask.

“It’s the datiest date that has ever dated”, he says, making you giggle because he is so cute and funny and you like him so, so much. He giggles with you because you are so perfect and perfect and perfect and he likes you so, so much.

“I feel like we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, oh god.” He kisses your cheek multiple times. “You have to tell me all the thoughts you had when we hung out. Were you also so giddy, oh god, I was always so giddy and I kept looking at you because you are so pretty. Were you looking at me too? And, and did you also wish for me to be reckless? I always wanted you to just kiss me. I’m talking so much, wow, I’m so happy.”

You giggle, cuddling into him, “you’re the cutest person ever. I can’t wait to tell you everything.”

You nudge him to leave, but stop when Jungkook exclaims a loud “wait!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The groceries. I almost left them here”, he says, bending down to get them.

“Oh god, you’re so cute”, you snicker, hugging his arm and nuzzling into him like you always wanted to do.

[moonlight-prose]

HOPELESSLY DEVOTED TO YOU

a/n: eddie alden has lived in my head rent free for so fucking long. ever since i saw someone like you i was done for. actually in the first five minutes i was done for. this is a labor of love. something i have spent so long writing and editing because i needed to put this somewhere. it's the longest one shot i've ever written and i am so terrified to share it. i hope you love it as much as i do.

summary: being best friends with eddie alden proved a challenge. you knew him at twelve when he'd push you down for fun. you knew him at sixteen when his parents divorced. you knew him at twenty-two fresh out of college and ready to live his life. and you knew him now. yet the version of him that still remained was the one who loved you - hopelessly, endlessly, and entirely devoted to...you.

word count: 26k

pairing: eddie alden x f!reader

warnings: childhood best friends to lovers trope, oblivious reader + obvious eddie, jealousy, possessiveness, arguments, flirting, cussing, teasing, yearning, love confessions, he's in love and it's detrimental to his health, cigarettes & alcohol, p in v sex, masturbation, smutty books, feral eddie, oral (f receiving), cumplay, desperate sex, reverence, hand holding, the nostalgia vibes of a 2000s romcom.

PLAYLIST

New York’s winter left a taste in your mouth that always reminded you of childhood memories you'd never get back. The biting cold stung your nose until it dripped—your fingers numb as you clutched the cigarette between your index and middle, smoke trailing to the cloudy sky.

An ugly brown suitcase that passed from your father, brother, and eventually you sat by your feet. The bottom no doubt soaked through from the puddle of half melted snow. The temptation to get a taxi and meet him there nearly made your choice for you. Seeing as how standing in the fucking outdoors was your only other option. But the argument over the phone left you relenting within seconds—his voice eager and older.

You scrubbed your hands together for some warmth, lips burning on the but of your cigarette, as yet another round of cars passed you by. Soon enough you'd get to chew him out for making you wait. You'd pull out every guilt trip proven to work on him in the past, and get him to agree to some outrageous ask. That's how things went with you and Eddie.

He fucked up in some way or another. Begged for forgiveness with late night food and a soft smile. And like a fool you forgave him...every time.

"C'mon Eddie what the fuck," you muttered, wiping your nose with the end of your sleeve. You were pretty sure you'd freeze to death in another five minutes, and all Eddie would be left with was your corpse proudly presenting a middle finger.

A horn blared beside you bursting your eardrums. Counting down from five under your breath, you eyed the corner of the building, expecting to see a familiar mop of brown hair. When nothing happened you grabbed the handle of your shitty suitcase and began to walk. He'd reluctantly given you the apartment number and address halfway through the call in case something came up.

Something must have come up.

With a huff, you hauled your suitcase up to rest against your hip, the cigarette burned out and crushed beneath the toe of your boot. Waiting felt like a waste of fucking time. When you could instead be inside of his place already, thawing with a steaming mug of the shitty burnt coffee he made with pride.

No matter how many times you offered to teach him—rectify the recipe that shouldn't be ingested by humans—he claimed you drank it. Clearly that meant you loved it. There was no other reason for why you took his coffee with a smile and gulped at it like you'd just paid twelve dollars and all the change in your pocket.

Even after all this time...he still never saw it. The gleam in your eyes as you watched him make it. The ache in your heart that formed when he set it in front of you with a smile. The butterflies you learned to ignore when you thanked him for something so simple. A single slice of the domesticity you would never get with him.

People shoved you to the side as you walked. Doing what you could to refrain from slipping on the icy bits of the sidewalk. Taking a cab was out of the question with what little cash you had stuffed in your wallet. Your boss decided to withhold your paycheck for the second time—claiming you should have come in to collect it.

The temptation to scream at him in person left the second you realized the money wouldn't even cover the rent next month. So like an idiot...you booked a flight to New York (much to Eddie's delight) and packed a bag large enough to stuff two weeks worth of clothes in it. He believed it was his incessant nagging that finally got you here; you didn't have the heart to tell him that you held no other option.

"Watch it," you snapped at a man who's coat probably cost more than your grandmother's gold ring you wore around your neck.

He scoffed, turning back to the conversation he was invested in on his phone. Getting into a fight wasn't exactly a part of the plan. But the anger began to eat away at your heart—gnawing at your patience the longer you were here. Wandering the city streets. Alone.

"Now that's not the Kit I know."

You whipped around, eyes wide and hair upright on the back of your neck as Eddie's broad smile came into view. The leather jacket he wore complimented his tall figure; the once skinny shoulders you remembered now a broad form you certainly didn't expect. Pictures crinkled by the mail didn’t do him justice. Yet the hazel eyes you knew sparkled with a joy that still managed to entrance you in a single glance.

It felt pathetic how quick you turned into a simpering girl in his presence. Still the eleven year old kid he used to push into muddy puddles because it made him laugh. Somehow that made heat spill into your cheeks—a flustered expression flashing across your face.

He squinted, hands on his hips, as he bent down slightly to push his face directly in front of yours. "What'd you do with her? My little kitten?"

"Fuck off Eddie," you scoffed, shoving at his shoulders.

The suitcase slipped from your hands, dropping to the floor. Eddie didn't waste a second before he was scooping up the handle in his large hand, his arm slinging around your shoulder as he dragged you across the traffic infested street. You squeaked at the horns that went off when you sped in front of them; a multitude of cuss words shouted into the cold air.

"I thought I told you to wait at the airport entrance?" The warmth of his body soaked into your frigid form, loosening your limbs slightly. You'd never experienced such bliss.

"You took too long, asshole."

He laughed—loud and boisterous and perfectly Eddie. "Well forgive me for making an effort to try and get you breakfast. The line was so fuckin' long I had to forgo your coffee."

"Shame." Unconsciously you leaned into his hold as you walked down a street covered in barren trees. "Guess you'll have to make me some."

"You always say you hate my coffee Kit."

"I don't hate it."

"You're a fuckin' liar." Yet he still smiled, his face tilting to see the little furrow of your brows as the cold air began to sting your nose.

You rubbed at it, hoping to alleviate the sensation. "It's just always so burnt Eddie. I never got that. Even when I bought you that fancy coffee maker for your twentieth birthday!"

"Hey!" Shoving you closer as a couple walked past, you did what you could to not stumble. "I never said I put coffee making on my resume. So really it's your fault for making assumptions."

"My–" you spluttered. "Oh fuck off Alden!"

He laughed and you felt the sound shoot through your body like the trigger of a gun finally being pulled. Phone conversations did nothing to appease the longing you felt in his absence. There'd been an Eddie shaped hole in your life for years. Now suddenly you were at a loss with what to do once it was filled. You chastised yourself for pining over a man who would never see you as anything but a friend. Yet somehow...he never knew.

Even through highschool and all your blatantly obvious reactions to how he affected you, Eddie Alden remained entirely oblivious to how much you truly loved him. How your heart screamed for him each morning and night. He was the balm to every wound that ailed you—yet you were only gifted with its comfort every few years.

"My place is one block over, but we could grab some food if you're hungry." His voice ripped you from the depths of your mind, shoving you back into the present.

Where you were pressed against his side by an arm that felt stronger than you remembered. You glanced at him, tracing the curve of his side profile before you realized you eventually had to respond. None of this helped the preexisting crush you spent years trying to get rid of.

Whatever feelings you believed to be evicted from your heart came tumbling back with a fury—a vengeance you'd never experienced before.

"Kit?"

You jumped, catching his gaze; to realize you'd been staring at his lips for far too long. "Your place. I'm fucking freezing out here. Could do with some blankets."

His grin deepened. "Blankets I've got. And a bed. Well a separate bed. Had it put in the guest room for when I managed to finally get you here."

Surprise filled your system—eyes wide and mouth parted. "You bought me a bed?" you exclaimed.

"Nah. I bought a bed."

"Right. Sure." He pinched your arm, chuckling at your pained yelp. The hit you landed to his stomach in a feeble attempt at backlash only seemed to make him laugh harder.

Fuck. You missed him.

A horn blared behind you, slicing through your nerves as he weaved the both of you seamlessly through the crowds of people. New York was far louder than you expected it would be. Sure, you'd heard the noises while on the phone with Eddie, but this felt twenty times that. You were surprised that he got any sleep in this place; though knowing him...he rarely slept if the slight dark shadow under his eyes was anything to go by.

He spent days running around at his job, nights chasing the tail of someone pretty, and what time he could spare talking to you. Giving you the dirty details on people he came across, drama with his coworkers. Every little aspect of New York he could shove your way—knowing how much you longed to get away. How your heart ached with the thought of traveling to distant lands.

He bought you the maps hanging on your apartment wall back home; a celebratory graduation gift when you finally managed to accomplish getting your masters. Back then he thought you'd join him out here.

Or perhaps he was merely holding that hope like an oblivious idiot; his mind fixed on the idea of you here for longer than a visit.

Although you could say the same for yourself. The belief that your life would start somewhere other than at Eddie's side began to fester in your heart, becoming a wound you could never heal. Merely a twisted game you played with yourself. The constant push of wanting more when a part of you knew he would never see you that way.

No matter how many times you pushed...he'd never tell you about them. The women that twisted his head around; the ones that brought a familiar flicker of bitter heat to your chest.

Eddie wasn't yours.

You knew this.

You accepted the truth halfway through high school when you stumbled across him with his tongue down a cheerleader's throat. The lingering pain thickened the longer you spent in his warm charismatic presence—like a knife suddenly protruding from your chest. But much to your own detriment...it was your own knife. Not his.

So you swallowed the brief seconds of jealousy, your body leaning into him with a heavy exhale of winter air. If he noticed your split second mental battle, he didn't say anything. You supposed that's what you loved about Eddie. He understood your cues faster than you did—giving you the room to breathe, to garner enough sanity to push through whatever hell you created in your own mind.

He let you anchor yourself to him, willing to drag you out of the well you dropped yourself in whenever you needed a helping hand.

"So I have a proposition," he exclaimed, tugging you across the street to a building that looked eerily familiar.

"I might have an answer."

He snorted, rummaging in his pocket for the jingling keys that were pressed to your side. "There's a bar on the bottom floor of my place that has shitty beer and shittier nachos."

You smiled, wide and stupid and hopelessly head over heels in love with your best friend. This trip would no doubt come back to bite you in the ass eventually. You practically felt the sharp teeth of reality begin to sink into your heart. Ready to rip you open with jaws coated in your own blood.

Really this was your fucking mistake; letting your best friend talk you into this with the claim: 'You're gonna have the best fuckin' time Kit.'

You followed him through the bulky metal door. "I'm listening."

"I know how much you love shitty nachos." The stairwell echoed with your footsteps—a drip from a leaky pipe splashing every few seconds. "It's not much, but I figure it'll get you acquainted with this grand old city."

Saying no to him felt as if you were pulling teeth, but the fatigue from your flight was beginning to weigh heavy on your shoulders. While traversing the city at night with Eddie sounded like a dream come true. You knew that if you didn't get some rest you'd be kicking yourself tomorrow.

"Tomorrow night," you requested, lugging your bag over your shoulder as he fumbled with the door to his apartment. "I'm ready to keel over and die."

He smiled, letting you wander in before him. Eddie trailed after you, watching in rapture as your eyes went wide with awe at the sheer size of his place. Large windows allowed sunlight to spill into the living room, casting a soft yellow glow throughout the kitchen. Ethereal in its simplicity.

You could practically see the spots where he spoke to you on the phone; the echo of him rummaging in his own fridge now put into perspective with the sight of it. How he would smoke on his fire escape during the summer months when the air finally turned crisp with the promise of fall. How he'd lay on his couch, television blaring as you both watched the same channel.

"Ya like it?" he asked, dropping his jacket on the back of the couch.

"Eddie it's..."

"Massive?"

You turned, sunlight forming an angelic silhouette behind your head and Eddie felt the breath get punched from his lungs. Suddenly he wished he wasn't such a shit artist. That dream was discarded long ago in an art class he would later fail. He longed for charcoal, paints, paper, anything to commit your beauty to a canvas. To hang it in his home as a permanent art fixture—a glimpse at what heaven must look like.

"It's beautiful," you gushed, your smile dazzling in the late afternoon sun.

So are you.

He'd never say it out loud, entirely aware of what you'd say—play it off as a joke, pretend he was teasing you—but the fist around his heart squeezed until he couldn't deny the truth. Mentally he cussed out your future lover. Too ashamed to admit that if you kissed him right now, he'd buy a damn wedding ring tomorrow.

"Bathroom is small enough to drive you a bit insane," he said instead, shoving the thoughts in their respective boxes and throwing away the key. "My room. You're always welcome. And this–" He pushed open the guest bedroom. A fancy duvet and collection of pillows was placed neatly on the queen mattress; frames were propped on the empty dresser—images of you and Eddie throughout the years. "Will be your room."

Stepping into the space felt like taking a breath of familiar air—your heart fluttering at the care he took before allowing you here. It reminded you of all the times he put you before anything else in his life. His fierce protective nature that was always placed upon your shoulders. How he claimed you the second he locked eyes on your timid form.

"Homecoming?" You gestured to the largest frame on the nightstand.

Eddie in a red football jersey, his face painted in white streaks, sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead. He held you beside him—helmet in his hand and a smile big enough to blind half the girls in your school on his face. You could recall that day with vivid clarity. The butterflies you felt at seeing him so happy, so carefree.

Your childhood was filled with memories both good and bad. But Eddie somehow managed to solidify himself in those tinged in warmth and overflowing with a wonder that left you breathless.

"It's a good picture," he replied, running his hand along the back of his neck, cheeks flushed a light rose. "My mom sent it to me a year ago. Said I'd take better care of it."

You smiled, tracing the corner of the brown frame. "Seems like she was right."

"Yeah..." His eyes followed the curve of your hips, pausing briefly on the shape of your ass in jeans he knew you only wore for special occasions.

His favorite jeans if memory served.

The same denim fabric he imagined peeling off you in senior year of college when you showed up with a bottle of wine and the promise of a week spent by the beach. They were in second place, right next to your little red bathing suit that had him fucking his fist for hours in your shared hotel shower. Shame might have burned in his chest at the memory, but Eddie couldn’t help himself when it came to you.

Insatiable, needy. Every fucking synonym in the book would classify how he felt around you.

"So Alden." Your voice dragged him out of his lust addled stupor, heat curling around the base of his spine. He swallowed thickly, forcing it down until he felt comfortable meeting your gaze again.

His eyebrow curved. "Kit?"

"What fun activities do you have planned for me tonight?"

He choked on his spit. "W-What do you mean?"

"Movies? Dinner? Anything?"

"Right."

Trailing to the kitchen with you hot on his heels, he rummaged in the take out drawer full of old menus that needed replacements eventually. Pages were stained, ripped, and crumpled from years of use. You snatched the only pizza place one out of his grasp, eyes flicking through the selections with a grin. Predictable. He could have ordered blindly for you if he'd have known your tastes were the same.

"Lemme guess–"

"Pepperoni–" you began.

"With sausage and jalapeños," he finished.

"Fuck off Eddie."

He smiled, confident enough to have your mind falter on anything except the man before you. How did he do that? Render you a bumbling fool who could barely put the correct words in order to form a complete sentence. One day you might have to ask if that was just his Eddie charm, or if it only worked on you in particular.

"I would. But it's my place kitten." Dialing the number he knew by heart, he left you to wander spots in the apartment that hadn't been on his grand tour.

A corner table held a photo of Eddie's mother, his father nowhere to be seen in the background. You didn't blame him for avoiding the man entirely. After what occurred you were surprised that Eddie hadn't killed him; although he once came close at nineteen. The night his mother spilled the truth over one too many glasses of sherry.

The night Eddie figured out the man he once looked up to had a different family in an entirely different state.

If you trailed your fingers down the back of his neck you'd find the spot where his father slammed him into the banister of their front staircase. The fight bordered on brutal. A viscous act that left what relationship remained tattered and torn to shreds on the floor around them. Both men landed hits with no true aim, teeth bared and seeking blood through the red haze of their anger.

Eddie wanted revenge. His father wanted submission.

They'd always stood on thin ice ready to crack beneath the weight of their baggage. A horrendous cycle of push and pull—each one aware of how to tear the other down with ease. Their bond was built on torment. And to watch the tension explode, drowning them both beneath the glacial waters, left you stuck in a dark chasm of helplessness.

Stupidly you got a scar to match when you threw yourself in front of a near unconscious Eddie, attempting to stop the man from landing a final punch to his son's face. He hit you instead. The scar on your shoulder was small, barely there, but you could still feel Eddie's lips on it when he cleaned the wound. Apologies spilling from his lips until he fell asleep in your bed.

But you supposed that was Eddie. A protector above all else.

The man who would throw himself into the heat of battle before considering the consequences that came with a choice that reckless.

"They'll be here in twenty minutes." He crept up behind you, glancing at the photo of him on his Mom's birthday. "Thinking about that night?"

You jumped, glancing at him over your shoulder. "Yeah."

"Hard not to."

"Has he ever..."

"No." The darkened shadow across his face gave you enough of a response. It was time to move onto a different subject.

"So..." You settled on his couch with a heavy sigh. "Your work."

Dragging the throw blanket his mother knit him over your legs, he clambered onto the empty space beside you. The heater was slowly sputtering to life—radiator giving it all it had to keep the both of you warm. But beside him you felt the heat practically emanate off his body in waves.

What you wouldn't give to curl into his lap and seek it from the source.

"The drama has been exquisite," he stated, draping his arm on the top of the couch behind your head. "You remember me tellin' you about Jane?"

"Goodall?"

"The very one." He settled further into the cushions, legs spread beneath the blanket until he nudged yours. "She and Ray broke up. It's been hell in the office dealing with their confused tension."

"Wait, isn't this the guy who cheated with her?"

He nodded. "Now I'm not saying he's horrible. But you gotta at least break up with the girl before you go with another."

"Ahh you're taking my teachings to heart," you smiled, leaning your head against his arm.

"I have to Kit. Every time I don't I feel like you're gonna pop out and whack me–" Landing a weak hit to his side, he clamped his hand around your wrist, tugging you close with a laugh. "Like that!"

Attempting to free yourself was futile when he outmatched you in strength and speed. Yet you found that you enjoyed being this close to him. Laughing as you once did in the years of your youth. When all that mattered was which movie you were seeing that Friday and what school the team was playing.

Somehow—in the blink of an eye—you were two adults stuck in your own travesties. Forced to forgo the blithe energy of your childhood. You'd jump at the chance to go back; if only to get more time with Eddie. To spend a few more hours in his bedroom watching horror movies that left you both shell shocked and restless.

To cheer him on at every game with the promise of burgers and shakes at the local drive in afterwards. To watch him grow up and move to New York. Only this time...you'd follow him the second he asked.

His eyes softened as your smile slipped from your lips, fingers curling around his fist. Hazel had never been your favorite color until Eddie left. You rarely thought of it when he was home, but as his absence became a reality you could no longer suffer through you began to see the color everywhere. In the trees, in the color of your old blanket you stole off his childhood bed, in the flannel that once belonged to his grandfather.

You found traces of Eddie Alden in every little aspect of your life, except him.

"Kitten," he murmured, a fraction closer than he'd been a minute ago. His eyes dropped to the curve of your lips, how they parted so sweetly at the sound of your pet name.

"Eddie..."

All that remained was the space between your heads—your body practically leaning into him the longer you talked. He could lean in and kiss you. He could finally learn what you tasted like, figure out how you'd sound if his tongue licked along yours. Fuck he'd never wanted something more.

The dazed glint in your eyes made his heart twist, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. Your gaze fixed on the movement immediately and Eddie felt his cock twitch in interest. One day he'd explain to you how fucking beautiful you were; how his mind went haywire at the sight of your smile. How he'd destroy himself to get you to look at him like he hung the moon and stars.

One day he'd spill his deepest darkest secrets to you.

Starting with three little words that kept him up at night tossing and turning.

He swallowed thickly. "I..."

The door buzzed loud enough to scare the shit out of you. Leaping back, you felt the breath catch in your throat painfully and like an idiot you began to cough. Eddie's eyes went wide, his hand tapping your back as you waved him off to get the pizza. Leaving you to sit there on his couch and choke...on air.

Dumbass.

"Thanks man," Eddie muttered, handing off what cash he had left in his wallet. "Keep the change."

He rushed back to the couch, pizza in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Kit, you okay? Here drink this before you die on my fuckin' couch."

"Shut up Eddie," you snipped, eyes burning with a glare. Though the smile on your lips told him something else. "Hand over the pizza before it's you dying."

"Yes ma'am," he muttered, flipping open the box and swiping the remote off the coffee table. Taking his spot by your side back with a grin.

"I can't fucking move," you grumbled, leg splayed on Eddie's lap as the movie credits rolled across the screen.

He scoffed, kneading the flesh of your calf. "That's cause you ate five slices of pizza."

"You're one to talk Alden. You ate the other five." Nudging his leg with your socked foot, you tried to get a rise out of the man who couldn't stop smiling. At one point it would have unnerved you. Given you the impression that he was making fun of you, but then it dawned on you as bright as daybreak.

Eddie Alden was happy.

"It's one a.m. Kit," he groaned, head falling to the back of the couch. "I've gotta get up for work at six."

"That's so early," you sighed.

"Yeah well. Some of us work for a living."

Another nudge to his thigh deepened his smile and your heart notched another mark that began to form his name the day you turned twelve. His lethargic form struck you in the stomach. Sexy in his long sleeve black sweater rolled at the sleeves. Beautiful with that broad smile and twinkling eyes of joy.

Bewitching in every aspect that made him yours.

Though that remained a blatant fantasy in your mind that would never come to fruition. If only you took a peek inside Eddie's mind. If only you looked at him for longer than a few minutes at a time. You would finally see that his heart started beating for you the day he met you; unable to find a rhythm for anyone else because your song kept him alive.

Your heart's song held him on his knees hoping.

"So that means curfew?" you muttered.

He shrugged. "For me. Doesn't have to be for you."

Disappointment flickered in his eyes, masked quick enough to conceal the ache that rang in his chest. But you caught onto it, tugged it towards you to inspect what exactly he wanted from you. Perhaps it was stupid to put all your energy into pleasing a man, but when it came to Eddie you couldn't help it.

Seeing him happy made your entire body sing. It brought you a light you didn't know could exist in a life that remained bleak without him.

"I'm fine going to sleep early."

"Are ya sure?" he pressed, his thumb curling around your ankle—the soft brush teasing chills down your spine.

Biting on the inside of your cheek hard enough to distract from his touch, you nodded. "Just make it up to me tomorrow."

This time…he didn't bother to hide the effect your words had on him. A smirk curling onto his lips, eyes dark enough to shove the breath from your lungs. How could a man look so alluring? Eddie was your siren. A predator who called you out to the depths of the sea with his soothing song of love. A man who never knew how your heart broke each night. He'd never know how you cried yourself to sleep that first night he left, never learn that you struggled to breathe without him.

He would go on as he always did and you would watch with a somber smile.

"C'mon," you sighed, sliding off the couch and effectively breaking his hold on your leg (much to his dismay). "You've got to sleep. I'm not gonna be responsible for you fucking up at your job."

With a snort he followed dutifully, hands grabbing for yours as you walked him to the small corner by his bedroom door. "I fuck up already Kit. And try as I might, I could never quite figure out how to pin it all on you."

His smirk cracked into a full blown smile, laughter echoing in the large apartment when you landed a smack to his chest. Wrestling your wrists into his hands, he turned you swiftly until he leaned against his door, a lazy grin on his lips. That fucking grin. A hazard to your own heart.

"You keep hitting me, kitten. Living up to your name every day."

You glared. "Unless you prefer I bite you."

A jolt went down his spine, body warming the longer you stood there eyeing him with a barely controlled fury. The playful anger that landed him in trouble more than once. Endless nights of wrestling like fiends, challenges won and lost, board games that turned violent too quickly to control. You were each other's kryptonite—the weakness never to be mentioned beyond shared looks and bouts of possession.

You were his to love. His to keep.

If only you knew.

"I'm never opposed to biting," he replied, eyebrows raised.

"Gross."

"It's not gross." Leaning down he pressed a kiss to your cheek, thumb running along your pulse point on your wrist. "It's kinky."

You scoffed, shoving at his chest. "I don't want to know!"

"Oh come on Kit! I've got stories–"

Slipping free, you headed to the guest room. "Go to sleep Eddie."

"You don't want a bedtime story?" He trailed after you, leaning against the doorframe, gaze intently watching you dig through your suitcase for a weathered graphic tee he bought at nineteen from a shitty indie concert. To see you kept it all this time made his heart flutter, his stomach twisting into familiar knots he longed for when you were apart from each other. "I can easily put you to sleep."

"Keep being gross. See how long I stay," you joked, pointedly staring over his shoulder. "Do you mind?"

He settled further, arms crossed at his chest. "Definitely not."

"Get out you freak."

"Now there's no need for name calling–" A pillow hit his face. "Or for violence. I swear you keep wanting to hurt me."

"Well if it works."

He snatched the pillow off the floor, tossing it back onto the bed before he jabbed a finger in your face—even as you smiled up at him with those eyes that catapulted him directly into the damn sun. "Behave kitten."

"Oh bite me Alden."

"See now we're talking!"

A shove against his chest had him stumbling towards the door, your entire body being used like a counterweight to push him out. He fell into the hallway with a grunt, teeth clamping onto his bottom lip to silence the laughter that threatened to echo off the empty walls. This wasn't an unusual position to find yourselves in—fighting like children who each held onto one end of a life altering secret.

Nights spent in the comfort of your home in high school with Eddie forced to sleep on the floor (per your mother's instructions) lead to picking on one another until the other caved. A past time you often ached to get back.

Maybe that's why you couldn't stop smiling at the sight of him trying to cling to the edge of your doorway. Maybe that's why your heart was set to burst when he snuck back in to simply hear you shout his name.

Two humans helplessly gone for one another with nothing to show for it but a lifetime of friendship. Never meant to be more than this.

"Night kitten!" he called from his room, the door shutting with a soft thud as you slipped beneath the thick comforter.

"Goodnight Eddie," you sighed, settled atop the mountain of pillows, your eyes fixed on the frame a few feet away.

The smiling image of younger you mocked the current situation; her haughty demeanor formed a sour pit in your stomach, your body desperate to curl in on itself the longer you stared at the past. You were so naive back then. Ready and willing to jump when Eddie gave you the go ahead. But what's changed? How had you moved away from that young hopeless girl? You still gave into his pleas, you relinquished your strength and handed it over without taking a second to think perhaps you should have considered the fallout.

Eddie said jump.

And suddenly you found yourself in New York.

Still naive. Still hopelessly in love with a man who might never see you as anything other that high school girl. The kitten who trailed after him looking for an owner who might show you some love, who might spare you a second glance.

"Pathetic," you muttered, flipping to your other side in the hopes that sleep would find you.

The creak of your partially shut door is what roused you from a restless and fitful two hours of chasing sleep to no avail. Your eyes cracked open in the pitch black, body rolling to see the kitchen light illuminate a rather tall and shirtless Eddie. He rubbed a hand over his face, eyes bleary with lack of sleep, and wordlessly you pulled the blankets back to the empty side on your right.

A smile curled on his lips, lazy and barely there, but it lit you up from the inside out—his feet softly padding on the cement floor as he stumbled through the room. Unsuccessfully if the whispered cuss word muttered under his breath after hitting his leg was anything to go by. You hid your grin beneath the edge of the comforter, feeling the bed dip when he shuffled to find the comfiest spot.

"'S fucking cold in here," he mumbled, shoving the blanket up to his neck.

"It's your apartment."

"Yeah, yeah. Just c'mere." He sighed, long and bordering on defeat. "I missed you."

He didn't give you the option of backing out, his hands grasping blindly for your waist. Of course, you didn't put up much of a fight either. The bed felt desolate in his absence. As if it'd been waiting for him all this time—hoping he might come to fill the gaps where frigid air seeped through. Somehow Eddie remained your knight in shining armor. Your savior against the horrors no matter how minuscule.

Dark bedrooms and empty beds included.

Silence swept over you in gentle soothing waves. The promise of sleep settled contently in your grasp, allowing you a moment to finally rest for the first time since you got on that plane. But you couldn't find it in you to close your eyes. Instead you let your gaze wander over Eddie's face as he sunk into the depths of sleep—his hand clasped in yours and settled between your bodies.

"Hey Eddie," you whispered.

"Hm?"

"I missed you too."

His lips curled slightly, body shifting close enough for you to feel his breath wash across your face. Warm and minty fresh and so much like Eddie it chipped another piece of your heart off. He didn't know how painful it would be to leave. How you'd cling to memories as tiny as this in the dark of your own bedroom.

He wouldn't understand how you broke sleeping next to the love of your life, yet a chasm deep enough to drown you sat between you. Oh, what you wouldn't give to swim across with ease and find yourself on the shores of his love. You wished for him on every falling star, with each set of birthday candles, and yet the powers of the universe felt compelled to keep you apart.

"Hey Eddie." He hummed, his thumb running across your wrist. "Did you buy this bed for me?"

His laugh was low, a mere breath let loose in the wild for you to intake with your own. Yet you felt his hand tighten around yours and the slight shift of his face as his nose nudged yours.

Where you expected to get a firm no—a repeated response from hours before—Eddie Alden still had a way to surprise you.

"Yeah," he admitted softly, effectively setting your heart on fire.

Sunlight illuminated the open doorway, spilling into the bedroom with its soft glow. You ached to sleep for a few hours more, or at least until you could effectively wean the jet lag from your body. The bed was cold to the touch on Eddie's side—his furnace-like qualities doing nothing to keep you warm in the early afternoon air.

On winter nights he made sleeping with a shitty radiator worth the lack of blankets. But that might have just been because it was him beside you and no one else.

You winced when your bare feet made contact with the frozen floor—the shock to your system forcing you to remain awake. The urge to ask for a rug rose to the forefront of your mind, but Eddie had already spent so much time perfecting the bedroom. Each detail catered to your distinct style and taste. A small offering of home in the middle of an unknown city.

A small basket of your favorite snacks—that certainly hadn't been there last night—sat on the dresser. You chose not to question it, grabbing a cookie out of the pack to quell your stomach. Chocolate and peanut butter, a dangerous combination.

The same cookies you shared on the roof of his house—the echo of his parents shouting about everything and anything muffled in the background. A shitty radio propped by his feet to drown them out and the echo of your voice filling his ears. He never complained, so you kept talking. All the way through high school and college and each late night phone call.

You unknowingly became the salve to Eddie's pain.

The bandage that held up when all the others withered away. You kept him stable through endless fights with his father, on nights he simply couldn't take hearing his mother cry anymore. You held him on days when the grief of being the only thing tying their toxic relationship together became too much. The expectation to maintain a perfect standard ate away at him, until eventually…he didn't care anymore.

Until you made him change his mind; the invisible red string of fate connecting the two of you dragged him out of the darkness. Since then he refused to let go—not that you wanted him to.

"Eddie?" you called, ambling to the kitchen.

Burnt coffee stung your nose, drawing a smile to the surface. But a press of your palm to the half filled cold pot let you know he made it several hours ago. Probably in the hopes that it would rouse you from sleep before he took off for work. You caught sight of a small ripped piece of notebook paper attached to the fridge beneath a overly large magnet of Lady Liberty.

Coffee's for you (since you asked for only the best). I'm at work if you need to reach me, but feel free to grab breakfast at the cafe down the street. On me.

-Eddie

A twenty was stuffed beneath the corner of the magnet, crinkled and folded more times than you could guess. You wondered if he dug it out of his pocket—coat or jacket—and figured it would hold you over until he came home. The gesture simmered low in your stomach, fluttering up in waves of cascading love that longed to drown you. Some other day you would have let it, but today you stood in Eddie's apartment.

Today you got to spend time with your favorite person.

That was reason enough to swim back to the shore and claw your way along wet sand that your hands sunk into.

Dragging your heavy coat up and over your body, you pocketed the spare set of keys Eddie left out on the counter. A set that was always meant for you—not that he told you. Exploring New York on your own was never a part of the plan, but something warm burned bright in your chest at the thought of getting to witness parts of it for yourself. Things that Eddie wouldn't be attached to. Moments stolen for your own safe keeping.

Perhaps one day you'd tell him about this small adventure. Or maybe he'd pry the information out of you tonight over drinks. Either way you felt lighter than you had in years, strolling along the icy sidewalks, your breath forming a cloud with each soft exhale.

People rushed past you, some stuck in a phone call—a briefcase attached to their hand—others weighed down by gift bags meant for the upcoming holiday season. All with somewhere to be.

Clouds of dark gray were scattered across the sky, as if created by a single brush stroke with no real purpose. You longed to have a camera in your hands, to snap photos of your first time in the city. Pictures you would be able to look back on and hold in your hand; time that you'd never get again. At least then you might get to leave with something other than a broken and heavy heart.

The cafe was sparse with a few people sitting at tables, books or notebooks or even a newspaper propped in front of them. Steam rising off their various mugs. Everyone was looking to escape the cold for a bit. For some reason that made you smile.

Fishing the twenty out of your pocket, you barely got two feet into the place before ramming into someone's back. You braced yourself to fall, hands clenched in fists to give your arms the impact, only for someone to grip your forearms and drag you into a proper standing position. People's eyes were fixed on the scene before them. Someone about to make a fool of themselves—a person they would no doubt speak about to their significant others and friends later on today.

"Fuck I'm sorry," you gasped, righting your feet to keep some form of balance.

The first thing you noticed was his laugh.

Dark and raspy and soft enough to fill your body with a flutter that felt unknown to you in the presence of someone else. Your head rose to thank your savior, but brown eyes were all you could see. Warm with honey and amber that lit up with the quirk of his lips. Only once in your life had a man stolen the breath right from your chest, yet there he was. Drawing forth that spark of fleeting want that stirred low in your stomach—filling your head with a haze that felt soothing on your nerves.

"You alright?" he asked, voice a smooth match for his laugh.

Swallowing thickly, you attempted to drag common sense to the forefront of your mind. "I'm…um…okay."

Another laugh left you flustered enough to feel a thrill of panic streak down your spine. "In a rush for coffee?"

"What?"

He glanced at the way your fist was clutched around the twenty dollar bill. "You can go in front of me if it's an emergency."

"Oh. No I'm just wandering," you admitted, a bit breathier than you would have liked. "I'm not from here."

"Ah. Visiting?"

You nodded. "Came to see my friend. Although I guess I'm shit out of luck cause he's at work right now."

"And you came here for coffee?" His laugh was quickly burrowing in your mind, finding space where there's only ever been room for one man. Eddie. "He doesn't have good taste in coffee does he?"

"What's wrong with this place?"

A shrug had him lifting his hands in surrender. "Okay coffee, short lines. Although I guess I can't complain now that you're here."

Oh.

He was flirting with you.

He looked at you with a kindness that melted the armor that encased your heart for one man. The protection you thought was needed to survive loving someone who may never be able to love you back. Countless years of Eddie falling for woman after woman, times that left you broken and bitter simply thinking about the concept of romance in any form. But here stood a man who possibly wanted to get to know you.

Someone with a nice smile and eyes that screamed endless joy.

The grin on your lips came with ease this time around. "Your lucky day."

"Now that you mention it." His brows pulled together in a mock thought. "I did have a pretty good feeling about this place."

"Fate's doing?"

"Could be." Moving his way up to the counter, you quickly took that chance to fix any part of yourself that could be in disarray. "I'll take a latte and whatever she's having."

"That's not–"

The barista clicked the sharpie with an expression screaming of boredom. "Name?"

"Louie."

"Five minutes."

"Thank you ma'am." Snatching a small card placed at the front he scribbled something down and shoved it your way. "For you."

The wary glance didn’t seem to deter him. "The bill?"

He chuckled; you ached to hear that sound as many times as possible before the both of you parted ways. "My number. And name. Figure that might help."

"Louie…Parker."

"That's me."

The both of you huddled near a corner table, his back leaning against the wall and hands shoved into his coat pockets. A part of you dug for faults amidst his perfect smile and sharp nose—any chance for your heart to come to terms with why you should walk away. Useless reasons why you didn't need to stand here entertaining a man you might never see again. Yet nothing sprung to mind.

He was kind. Open and willing to let you pick through his mind—to see that what he wanted wasn’t the opposite of the other man your heart pined for.

Suddenly the name Louie sounded sweet coming off your tongue. The letters mixed with the lyrical melody of a future you didn’t consider before meeting Eddie. A chance to finally grow the way you wanted. You weren’t tied to one single person and to trick yourself into believing that was a disservice to yourself.

His name rang through the small cafe, signaling that your time together was slowly coming to a close. But you found yourself attempting to come up with a way to stay on this page—stopping the story in place.

“Here you go.” He handed over your order with a full blown smile that shone with a nervousness you felt linger in your own stomach.

So this is what you’d been missing all these years.

“I don’t do this much,” he began, tearing open two packs of sugar with a shaky cough. “But if you happen to find yourself free or with loads of time on your hands. I’d be happy to show you around the city.”

You sipped at your drink, biting back the smile that still forced its way onto your lips. “Adventuring with a stranger. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Well I wouldn’t recommend it,” he huffed. “But cross my heart, boy scout honor, promise that I am normal as they come around here."

“Boy scout?”

His cheeks flushed scarlet; you finally understood the appeal of flirting. “Nothing wrong with being a boy scout.”

“No you’re right I’m sorry,” you giggled.

He straightened and graced you with a smile bright enough to rival the spark of caffeine in your veins. “Call me. If you want of course. But…I hope you do.”

At one point in your life this would have been the exact opposite of everything you dreamed of. The small fantasy created in the mind of an impressionable and naive child slowly began to break apart the older you and Eddie got. Some piece of you still longed for the boy who held you when you cried over small mishaps and boys who called you names. But she was placed on a shelf long ago—she served her purpose, she lived with a smile, and you were thankful to have known her innocence.

They say growing up is the hard part, letting go of childhood comfort. They never spoke about letting go of childhood love, of moving past something you counted on. A future that would never be.

“I’d like that.”

“Really?” You nodded, practically watching the relief wash over his tense shoulders as he fell into step with you, heading for the door. “Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll uh…” He rammed into a woman, nearly spilling his coffee. “Shit sorry miss.”

Latching onto his jacket, you tugged him into you to keep his feet steady—the cuss she offered in response loud enough to follow the both of you outside. Neither of you could discern who laughed first. But the first domino was set into motion, leading to the uncontrollable ache of laughter that burned through your stomach. Your cheeks hurt, the tears were rising to the surface, and Louie fared no better.

The crimson tinge of his skin spread to the tip of his nose with the cold icy chill of the afternoon air. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from his beauty. The both of you were bent over, gasping for a full breath of air, and in the midst of this small joy it hit you. This was the first time you weren’t thinking of Eddie. You weren’t wondering what he was doing, what his days were occupied with.

You were blissfully free from the thought of your true love.

And it felt good.

“I’m going this way,” he gestured behind him, the steam from his cup curling around his face.

“I’m going the other way.”

He nodded. “Exploring?”

“Probably.”

“Well.” He sucked in a breath, reluctance in his stance. But eventually the pages would flip to the final page and even though you both wanted this to go on longer, the understanding of what this was still remained. You didn’t live in New York, he would never hear from you again, and that was the beauty of strangers. “Have a good day.”

You grinned, watching him walk into the throng of people on the street, the head of dark hair melting into the crowd with a sigh. “You too,” you mumbled, heading towards the corner with a lighter heart and weightless mind.

The city sang to you while you walked. A symphony of voices, of car horns and shouts, of people chattering on calls to nowhere and everywhere. You resided in the middle of a civilization that both welcomed and ignored you. Somehow that held a string of familiarity to it. The unconscionable knowing that somewhere in the chaos of New York, you belonged here.

Old sayings came back to your mind as you passed businesses and restaurants. A truth you clung to on the days that Eddie called to relay a week's worth of information from the city that never sleeps. Something awaited you here, a piece of your future yet to come true. Perhaps that’s why you got on the plane and agreed to his constant pleading. Not to appease him, but to find that something.

Your feet hurt after an hour, the cold breaching the thick layer of your jacket, and eventually you found yourself back at Eddie’s place. The pungent scent of fish became easy enough to follow the closer you got. His key felt cold against your palm, the weight of it suddenly looming in the distance now that you crossed paths with Louie. He wanted to get to know you, he wanted to spend time with you.

Eddie left you alone to wander on the first day of your visit.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sliding the key into the lock with ease. “I’ll call him.”

“I don’t understand how you can take so fuckin’ long in here.”

You swatted the imposing hand heading straight for your near perfect eyeliner. “I’m not against biting you Alden.”

The grin he flashed you in the mirror nearly broke the resolve you built up all day—his charm striking your heart with a lethal promise. Two hours of alone time in his place gave you a chance to collect yourself. Louie’s name and number was pressed into the small notebook you kept at all times. You itched to call him, make plans for a date that was long overdue in your life.

That is until Eddie waltzed through the door with the plea for you to get ready for a night out on the town. Some time to finally be the adults who took over for two young and reckless teenagers. Reality shattered clean over your head, reminding you that this trip—this short lived time of fun—was always meant to be spent with Eddie.

He made the plans, he got you here. To spend it with another man felt inherently wrong.

“Again with the biting kitten,” he sighed, sipping his cocktail made messily in the kitchen. “I’m starting to think you like the idea of marking me up.”

Your hand faltered, the mascara wand nearly ramming into your eye. “You’re delusional.”

“Mhm.” He popped the olive in his mouth with a grin, shaking his head at the glare thrown over your shoulder. “You don’t have to be fancy. It’s just a bar.”

“I’m doing this for myself Eddie.”

The slight roll of his eyes didn’t slip past you—his muttered words brushed off with another swipe of lipstick. Rarely did you get the chance to head out at home. Stuffed into cheap back road bars that believed the shitty beer would stop people from commenting on the state of their bathrooms. Forced to listen to nostalgic conversations that always stemmed back to the good old days of high school.

After a year or two of friends dragging you past the thresholds of buildings that’d seen far more than necessary from a string of generations that came before you, it eventually led to the confines of your apartment being your safe space.

Soon…they stopped asking for your presence already knowing the answer that sat urgently on the tip of your tongue.

“Never thought you’d be one to go fancy,” he mused, leaning against the door frame—his looming height throwing you off. “You never used to do it.”

You sighed, bitter and jaded and filled with empty words of irritation. “We had to grow up eventually. Consider this me being grown up.”

“Oh believe me,” he breathed, burning gaze dragging down to how your jeans molded to your hips. “I know.”

Downing the final dregs of his drink, he ripped his eyes from the dark denim with a disgruntled sigh attempting to ignore the ache in his stomach that rapidly spread to the tight confines of his own pants. Discouraging you from putting on pretty things was the last thing he wanted. The exact opposite rang in his mind like a bell without end—a reminder that if he stepped up and opened his fucking mouth this wouldn’t be an issue.

He wanted to reach for you, slide his hands into the pockets that were stretched over your ass and grope the flesh without concern for what it would do to your friendship. He longed for the chance to try and keep you in his apartment, to peel the fabric from your body with enamored words of worship.

The fear held him by the scruff of his neck, sliding down his spine with a vicious promise that this would shatter on impact. The bond stretched tight and thin over years and distance was vulnerable. To tamper with it was a catastrophe waiting to happen. He’d never forgive himself if he became the reason it ripped and frayed.

So he kept his mouth shut and watched as you admired the top that hugged your breasts, adjusting it slightly to pronounce their plushness. The second you puckered your lips, leaning forward to touch up the smudged lipstick Eddie felt his breaking point rush to the surface. With a barely hidden cough, he rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water—desperate to calm the incessant throbbing that stirred his cock to attention.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, the cold tap water sliding down his throat with a icy burn.

It didn’t help.

“Go the fuck away.” He snarled the words under his breath, gripping the edge of the cold counter until his knuckles paled.

“Are you talking to me?”

With wide eyes, he whirled around at the soft echo of your voice filling the empty space. You with trepidation in your gaze and mouth pulled into a frown. Those pretty lips carved from marble, accentuated in a mauve he wanted smeared over the bare skin of his chest. Shutting his eyes to the sight felt like the only way he could survive tonight, but you were waiting for him to reassure the doubts that spilled into an already hesitant mind.

Worries that overtook your mind at the worst times.

“No,” he blurted out. “Not really talkin’ to anyone. Just uh…needed some water. Sore throat.”

Your brows furrowed, lips curling into a grin. “It’s cause your apartment is fucking cold!”

“Lies,” he retorted, dragging his leather jacket up and over his body. “‘S cause you got me sick.”

“Oh bullshit!” An arm draped over your shoulders, leading you to the heavy metal front door. “I didn’t show up sick. It’s all your own fault for not taking my advice.”

“Advice huh?”

“Get a better radiator or fix it. I’m not getting hypothermia for you.”

Digging his teeth into his lip, he swallowed the smile—eyes gleaming beneath the stairwell lights. “Who says you’re gonna get hypothermia? You’ve got a heater right here.” He gestured down his body with a cocksure smile. “I won’t let you get sick.”

“You have a bedroom of your own.”

“Kicking me out already?” he exclaimed, following you down the steps. “I thought we were bound for life.”

Scoffing, you turned to glance up at his imposing form—the saliva drying in your mouth instantly. “Well…we’re…friends. Not roommates.”

He clutched his heart. “You wound me kitten.”

“Fuck off Eddie,” you laughed.

“I can’t.” He fell into step beside you, guiding you out into the frozen night air. “Unfortunately you’re stuck with me.”

Two bars later and three glasses of beer had you and Eddie stumbling through the doors of his third and possibly final pick of the night. The first wound up being downstairs. A small hole in the wall that served relatively good drinks, yet held no space for two extra people to add to the madness. So he dragged you downtown to a tiny hovel beneath the towering buildings of the city—only to wind up with a shitty pungent aftertaste at the back of your throat.

The space reeked of cigarettes. Butts of smoked joints and Marlboros scattered the floor as people cheered for whatever song came up next. Couples or strangers or first timers danced aimlessly, lost in the alcohol that filled their veins. You wanted to say you fared better, but the days of drinking Eddie under the table were long gone.

A forgotten piece of youth scattered along the back roads of your town.

“I’m gonna grab another beer.” He pressed the words to your ear with cold lips and a tight grip on your hip.

“Sublime,” you drawled, watching him push through the throng of people with a determined gait in his step.

Relenting yourself to the fitful search of an empty table, you nearly rammed your hip into the corner of a booth on your way past a small group of women. A bachelorette party from the veil and flushed cheeks of a soon to be bride celebrating her future. You swallowed the sour tang of jealousy, easing yourself past with a halfhearted grin at the woman who tossed a flawless smile your way.

Marriage was never in the cards for you. Eternally bound, tied by more than the strings of fate.

How could you think of anyone else filling the space Eddie stood in for years? He was the groom in your mind, the man waiting at the end of an extremely long aisle. Replacing him felt wrong. A betrayal that nearly threw you for a loop of dizziness.

Your eyes slid over the groups of people, finding him with ease at the bar—a beer gripped tightly in his hand and a smile on his lips…for the woman on his right. Bile crept up the back of your throat, burning your stomach ruthlessly. This wasn’t jealousy, this surpassed that. What you felt was a possession that settled in your bones the second you looked at him; a part of your mind that screamed he was yours.

But he wasn’t yours.

He was a single man living in New York and you were…his friend.

Swallowing thickly you navigated past another set of tables with your head down to watch the stumble of your feet. Only to feel someone slam into your shoulder, nearly toppling you over. Yelping, you gripped the hands that reached for your shoulders—eyes wide and breath lost at the prospect of getting injured while piss poor drunk. Brown eyes flashed in your vision, a face that echoed with familiarity, and suddenly there you were.

Back in that coffee shop in the arms of a stranger.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

You blinked rapidly, lips tilting into a grin at the sight of Louie Parker. “But how will I make an impression if we don’t?” you quipped with a breathless laugh.

“Believe me–” He settled you back on your feet, his hands dropping to the small of your back. “–you’ve made an impression.”

“A good one I hope.”

He smiled, still warm, still…different. “A great one.”

Someone shoved past you, landing you right into his chest with a muffled grunt. You longed to get out of this stuffy bar, to find your way back to the spacious yet freezing apartment. But the arrival of Louie kept you rooted to the spot, intrigued to find out what might happen next. His smile drew you in with a serene lull of quiet in this crowded and loud place. The people melted into the background as he kept you close.

A different song came on, people cheered, and yet you found that hanging out with Louie was the best option for the night. You felt bad at the thought you were forgetting Eddie entirely, but he chose to leave you on your own to hit on someone. Why couldn’t you do the same?

“So since this is our second meeting,” he started with a nervous glint in his eyes, cheeks flushed with the alcohol he no doubt drank before this. “I was wondering if you’re free…um…in a few days?”

Sucking in a breath, you felt an unfamiliar flutter echo in your chest—one that solely existed for Eddie. “I’m not here for a long time–”

“Then tomorrow night?”

You froze, eyes wide at the thought of finally getting a chance to live. You owed it to yourself to finally experience this. To give the prospect of love in a different person another chance. So with a smile you placed a hand on his chest and found your footing in an unfamiliar space.

“I’d love to.” Heat spilled across your spine where he touched you; an unexplored path you tried not to be terrified of.

“Really?” His breathless voice echoed with a rasp that had you hanging onto every word. “I can pick you up.”

Nodding, you felt the rapid rate of his heart pump beneath your hand. “Just let me know the place. Easier that way.”

“Well I don’t want you to get lost,” he drawled, eyes half lidded and burning dark with a want that left you jittery. “It is a big city.”

“That it is,” you mumbled, teeth sharply pressing into your bottom lip hard enough to keep you level.

The beer tasted shitty enough to hold him over for another twenty minutes, knuckles rapping on the bar to order an extra for you. Aria slid into the spot beside him, her lips pulled into a knowing smirk that curdled his stomach. She worked at his office, often trading her girl troubles for his. It wasn’t uncommon for him to drink a bit too much and let loose the name of his dream woman—his favorite person.

He swallowed the remainder of his drink as she turned to him, eyebrow raised as silence and the chatter of people filled the space between them. That was the thing about Aria. She refused to let him get away until he spilled his guts. Until the one thing that bugged him fell upon her attuned ears.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

She laughed, taking a sip of the vodka soda pushed her way. “You’re like a dog with a bone, Alden.”

“I don’t know what you’re fuckin’ talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” She glanced over his shoulder, no doubt at the stunning person he’d come to call his best friend. “That her? The soulmate?”

He swallowed down another mouthful. “I didn’t say soulmate.”

With a snort she leaned close. “I believe your exact words were: I met my soulmate at twelve and she doesn’t even know how much I fucking. love. her.”

“I was drunk,” he exclaimed.

“Still said it Eddie.”

Grumbling under his breath, he sipped at the second beer meant for you—eyes fixed on the sticky wooden bar-top that held an infinite amount of rings from glasses set there over the years. It wasn’t the finest establishment, but he found it to be a part of his life here in the city. A piece of the man who learned how to live on his own in a place that nearly throttled him on the first day.

“She’s visiting,” he mumbled into his glass.

Aria hummed. “Sure seems like it’s more than that. Especially with that guy.”

Pain splintered through the tendons in his neck with how fast his head turned, picking you out within seconds. A smile played along your smudged lips, your gaze transfixed on the man whose hands were curled around your hips. The same spot Eddie craved to touch each night, the same body that he longed to love with his teeth and tongue.

Rage simmered at the top of his stomach, his fingers clenching around the glass hard enough to crack it—jaw ticking and teeth grinding at the sight of your carefree laugh directed at someone else.

He never wanted to burn the world more. To ram his fist into the face of a man who might have been astronomically nice.

“Excuse me,” he spit out, getting to his feet with a lungful of air.

Her knowing laugh fell on deaf ears while he shoved past people. He was five seconds from vaulting over the tables to get to you, his heart hammering sharply against his chest. This hostility towards your dating life wasn’t born from malice. Not in any way that was directed at you. He merely hated each man who showed even a partial interest in you.

All through high school he shoved them away with duplicitous words and rueful smiles. Claiming that you were already dating someone, that you weren’t looking for much.

Perhaps it was awful. Maybe he destroyed your love life to sleep easier at night. But he did it because none of them would know your favorite color, or remember the album you played on a constant loop in tenth grade, or envision the home they’d build with you and what color the kitchen would be. They’d never see the depths of your heart even as you blatantly wore it on your sleeve.

He would.

He always had.

Call it selfish, call it insanity, call it hypocritical for bringing you heartache as he slept with half of New York. They all rang with a truth that haunted him—picking him a part with the ruthless edge of a sword he walked daily.

Because he was selfish and insane and a fucking hypocrite. He was everything you’d call him and more the day you found out. And he’d take it with a smile, the taste of you on his tongue as he stole a kiss. He would face the wrath of your anger if it meant you were his.

“How are you liking New York?” The man’s question echoed with a reverence that made the alcohol in Eddie’s stomach churn.

Somehow in such a short time you managed to charm a man before Eddie could gain the courage to tell you the truth. He knew he would be sick the second you guys got back to his place. He’d find himself on the bathroom floor as you pulled and strangled his weeping heart. And he couldn’t even blame you for it. You didn’t know the extent of his feelings, you were completely unaware of how he spent some days thinking of what you were doing—what you were thinking about—and it was all his fault.

“The city is packed–”

Eddie sauntered over with a smile, his hand finding purchase on the small of your back. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get out of visiting me, kitten?”

You froze, expression swirling with the guilt of being caught with your hand in the cookie jar, and Eddie had never felt more pathetic in his life. How could he make you feel bad about this? How could he ruin another prospect that clearly seemed interested in the way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks with each quick blink? Was he truly this inconsiderate?

“Oh!” You glanced at Eddie, your pupils dilating at the sight of his smirk. His ego swelled at the sight. “Eddie there you are.”

“Here I am.” At long last he finally acknowledged the man who clung to you with rapturous awe in his eyes. “And who is this?”

The stranger relented his hold on your hip to extend that same hand towards him. “Louie Parker. You must be the best friend?”

“And oldest friend,” he replied in a snarky tone of reproach, gripping hard enough to see him wince. “Since elementary school. Right Kit?”

“Kit?” Louie grinned at you; Eddie seethed.

You seemed none the wiser of the obvious pissing contest directly in front of you. “Old nickname. Eddie’s mom gave it to me. She used to call me the stray kitten he found next door.”

“It’s cute,” Louie replied. “Kitten.”

Eddie’s fingers curled into fists, eyes burning with enough anger to set the entire bar ablaze. You looked happy with Louie, blissfully so. It dug at the insecure parts of himself he thought he buried in college—the parts that screamed for peace. He didn’t come from a perfect family. He didn’t have the greatest hold of his temper. He wasn’t…the man you deserved. Maybe Louie was and maybe Louie was meant to be your husband—your forever.

That alone left him aching to snuff out the sparks even as they flew above his head. Selfish, greedy, possessive. Eddie was all of that and more, and he refused to be ashamed of things that kept you in his life.

You’d hate him for it later. That he could handle.

As long as you were there to hate him.

“We gotta go,” he announced, hooking a finger into the back belt loop of your jeans to tug you closer. “There’s another spot I wanted to show you.”

Staring at him incredulously made him dizzy with the sight. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Bars don’t close till three kitten.”

The pout on your lips had his heart dropping to his stomach. Fuck what he wouldn’t give to lick the mauve stain off your mouth. He wanted to taste the alcohol off your tongue, to test his theory of it being better off your tastebuds. He wondered what you would do if he were to kiss you right now in front of everyone. Would you push him off? Would you curse at him with vitriol on your lips? Or would you sink into it with the same needy ache that spread down to the tips of his fingers?

He hoped for the former even as he knew the latter was reality.

“But I…” A quick glance at Louie left you floundering for the right answer. Eddie played it up with a ruthless streak of defiance.

Leaning in, he felt you go slack in his hold at the sight of his wide eyes pleading for you to say yes. “Please.”

You sighed, pulling free from Louie’s hold with an apologetic grin. “I’ll call you.”

Pride bloomed in his chest, guilt clinging to the last dregs of beer that sat at the top of his stomach. This vacation wasn’t meant for you to fall in love with someone else. But who was he to make that choice for you? You should have spit at him, cussed at him with the teenage fury handed to him in the past. The girl he longed to see once more.

The one you buried the day he left you behind. A way to escape the pain of his absence.

“This better be good,” you mumbled, hand gripped into the back of his jacket as he led you through the crowd.

His hand itched to slide into the pocket of your pants; instead he sunk his teeth into the flesh of his cheek. “You’ve never seen the city at night.”

“I’m here all week. We could have gone some other day.”

A shrug became his only answer. The opportunity for silence grew easier as you traipsed beside him, the echo of night drumming the chaotic beat he grew to harmonize with. Taxi’s honked their horns, people shouted across small streets. New York in all its glory. A list of spots to take you formed in his head, the bars and cafes still open past midnight. You would loathe most, find no entertainment in others, and so he led you aimlessly—no true destination needed when all he craved was your company.

Much to his surprise you looped your arm around his, soaking in the glow of streetlights and frozen air of an icy winter. Eyes filled with wonder and lips curled into a grin, he knew this was it. The moment he’d think back to after your plane departed, after you finally left him to survive the gaping hole forged in his unsteady heart. You with starlight in your eyes—rapture painted across a face he saw in his dreams.

A haunting angel that saved him long ago.

“You look like you belong here Kit,” he admitted with a whispered reverence.

Your gaze met his—the sparkle bright enough to rival the glow of the moon. “I do huh?”

“A true New Yorker if I’ve ever seen one.”

“High praise coming from you.”

A beat of silence echoed with decades of a future brimming with one single possibility. A life spent here…with you.

“So stay,” he uttered.

The whip of your head sent pain down your neck. “Ha ha Eddie.”

“I’m not joking.”

Your smile faltered. “I can’t stay here Eddie. I don’t…”

“You don’t what?” His brows furrowed—other hand sliding to keep you close.

“I don’t belong here.” With a sigh you ducked your head, the streetlight playing off your hair, forming a halo. “Not like you do. I’d have nothing holding me here, nothing to do.”

His chest twisted, heart stuttering an unknown beat of anguish. “Yes you do.”

“Eddie–”

“You belong here more than you know. With…”

With me.

To wrench the words out of his chest felt impossible. A feat he’d been trying to overcome since highschool. One that grew in size the more years that passed—his secret tucked away from reality, its frail unsure nature reeking with a vulnerability he was too ashamed to reveal. But you knew more than anyone. You knew his quirks, how he dreamt of being a screenwriter, how he broke down crying the night his mother officially signed the divorce papers—splitting his life down the middle.

You’d seen him on his knees begging the world to cease his suffering. And in a way it did. Because with every smile you gave him, all the nights spent laughing until your stomachs flared with that soothing ache, you healed his haphazardly stitched up heart.

A question still burned in his chest, spurting out of his mouth without thought. “What do you think of love Kit?”

The incredulous expression on your face nearly made him take it back. But then…you answered.

“It’s ridiculous.”

He blanched, swallowing back the nausea. “What…”

Truth tumbled from your lips with a spite he’d never seen before—an anger that lay unresolved in your spirit. “It’s all bullshit. The whole romantic true love notion. It doesn’t exist.”

“Kitten–”

“No. You told me a long time ago that the whole true love soulmate shit isn’t real. And I tried to defend it—like really tried—but I think I’ve gotten tired of waiting for the knight in shining armor who doesn’t exist.”

Swallowing thickly, he shut out the piece of his heart perilously close to breaking off. “How do you know he doesn’t exist?” he croaked.

“Because he would have found me by now.” With a weary sigh, you shrugged. “Or maybe he does exist and just doesn’t want me.”

I want you. I want you till the end of time. I want you in this life and the next and each one we wind up in together.

But like a coward…he stayed quiet. “Oh…”

The words damning love—striking it down with a whip of fury—sounded different coming out of your mouth. As if you believed their bitterness. Took it to heart with the vow to escape from the emotions he never knew how to control. Soulmates weren’t bullshit, true love wasn’t fake. He knew that now.

He’d known the second he met you.

If only the stupidity of youth hadn’t dragged him down to a place he could never return.

“It’s freezing Eddie.”

Jolting out of his flurry of thoughts, he watched your eyes wide and shining look at him with hope. A fleeting need that simmered at the base of his stomach. The alcohol was starting to wear off, the lingering effects of a morning doomed with the hangover flaring to life. He sucked in a breath, steadying himself with a needy rush that fortified itself in the back of his head.

Focusing on the sound of your voice became difficult when all he could hear was the pleas to kiss you. His own mind turning against the docile moments of silence meant to swallow his affections.

He was nearing his breaking point. That alone should have terrified him.

“C’mere.” Looping his arms around your back he tucked you into his jacket, his chin finding a spot against your head, hands pressed into the heavy coat that never seemed to be enough.

A perfect placement of two halves unsure of whether or not they fit together.

The puzzle would remain unfinished, disjointed. But that’s how you’d grown to love one another. Perfectly imperfect.

“They sell hot chocolate at a cafe near here.”

You perked up with a smile, chin resting on his chest. “Hot chocolate? With whipped cream?”

“What do I look like? An animal?” he scoffed. “‘Course they got whipped cream.”

“Lead the way Alden.”

Sunlight felt odd when coupled with the frozen air of his living room; a fresh blanket of snow coated his balcony—the tops of buildings layered in what you could only describe as a white winter. The picture perfect background to time spent in New York during the holidays. Only your time was quickly coming to a close, your last two days moving exponentially fast given who you were spending it with. Although you supposed the melancholy of leaving your best friend behind made it worse.

You didn’t want to go home. You didn’t want to spend the holidays in a town scattered with memories of Eddie when he wasn’t around to make new ones.

So you resigned yourself to his couch with a book, a scratchy throw blanket covering your legs and a flattened pillow set behind your back. Both should have made for a time of awful relaxation, but you’d never been more comfortable. Surrounded by Eddie’s scent in his home as he hummed a broken tune in his bedroom. The clack of his keyboard loud enough to drown out the traffic outside—the horn of cars and taxis drifting through the thin glass.

The contrast of the two worlds left you sinking a bit further on his couch, your eyes soaking in the words typed neatly on the page. A love story. Ironic given the conversation the two of you had last night—confusing yet filled with clarity as to what you really believed. What you were unsure of from the start. Yes you believed in love, no you didn’t think true love was about to happen upon you on a random night in the city.

You wondered if Eddie was referring to Louie. The man he couldn’t pull you away from fast enough. Perhaps he saw something in the stranger. A flash of darkness you were too blind to notice.

The game of romance felt brand new, the fear of taking all the wrong steps swelling in your chest the more you strived towards it. Having your heart broken was bound to happen given that you’d never experienced much in love. The past was littered with memories of Eddie, of time spent with him as the only man in your life—the one who should have taught you what to do.

But now you were wading into open waters, desperate to see what lay on that small island of love, the hope in your heart diminishing the more your body ached from swimming.

Louie was nice. You liked him.

That had to be enough.

She cupped his face, lips searching for plush lips and whispers of the next day. The night echoed with the beat of their hearts, a tangled intermingling of souls who searched eternity for the prospect of forever. He kissed her with a husk filled groan, fingers gripping the base of her neck and cock sliding through dripping folds—

“Story must be pretty good to have your nose so far into it.”

You jerked back, eyes wide as Eddie’s broad form filled your eye level. “W-what?”

The sly raise of his eyebrow went unnoticed by your racing mind. “I asked if it was a good story.”

“Oh–” You shut the book on your finger, coughing subtly as your thighs pressed together. “Yeah. Great story.”

The original plan to visit his work was overshadowed by the hangover blinding the both of you into submission. Painkillers were your savior and cheap coffees bought down the street were your resolute salvation. It took two hours of laying in bed as Eddie moaned and grumbled down the hall on the phone in an attempt to snag yet another sick day. Eventually you dragged yourself out to the freezing cold kitchen, wincing as bare skin touched cement and effectively turned to ice.

That was an hour ago. Enough time for you to find the strength to focus your eyes on pages lined with lascivious and vulgar acts that made your heart race. It was a standard bodice ripper, picked up at the airport as a hopeful distraction on the journey here. Only to find that you actually enjoyed the story.

“Wanna tell me what it’s about?”

Heat prickled beneath the cold skin of your cheeks—his gaze unwavering and perceptive. “A love story.”

“Love story,” he mumbled.

“Standard romance. Man likes woman, proceeds to try and woo woman…stuff like that.”

“Ah.” A hand ripped the paperback from your grip quicker than you anticipated, his eyes devouring the page you marked as you sprang to your feet.

“Eddie!”

“He kissed her with a husk filled groan, fingers gripping the base of her neck and cock sliding through dripping folds…” A ruddy scarlet flush bloomed across his face, traveling rapidly to the tips of his ears—his eyes wide and lips parted.

Spit was smeared across crimson lips, his fingers finding a home on her waiting tongue—body curving over her pliant form with a moan. She was spread beneath him, eyes shining in anticipation, a cry tearing from the base of her elongated throat at the first thrust into her drooling cunt.

Eddie couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not.

“You fucker!” you shouted, yanking the novel back with a sneer. “You don’t have to know everything.”

The sharp edge of your words spilled out onto deafened ears as he regarded you with dark eyes, teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to split it open. His cock twitched in his sweatpants, leaking into the boxers he knew he’d have to wash the second your attention was elsewhere.

It’s not that he had no self control—he did. Eddie prided himself on his restraint knowing how many times he could have kissed you, how many nights he watched you sleep and held back from caressing your cheek.

All his life he spent every fucking day keeping himself from begging you to take him, to break and ruin him beyond repair.

But at this very moment he felt another strand of the rope around his throat snap; the invasive feral need to have you—ravish you—pounded through his body. It screamed with intent. Clawed at his mind as images of you trapped in that same scenario began to shove their way to the forefront. You in his bed, lips forming around the letters of his name, the comfortable clothes you wore in a heap on the floor.

You taking his cock like the good fucking girl he knew you were.

The nice sweetheart he belonged to.

“We’re going out,” he said abruptly, biting harshly on the inside of his cheek. The sticky wet sensation in his sweatpants felt unbearable when you were here, his body aching to just let you touch him—to drop to his knees and let you have your way.

Except that felt too forward; that would scare you.

“Where?” you demanded, eyes narrowed at his blank face.

“Lunch.” His tongue swiped along the bitten and swollen bottom lip. “I’m starving.”

The audible click of your swallow seared into the back of his head, gratification pouring out into the open at the thought that you reacted to him. That your now flustered expression was due to him. He swiveled on his heel, bee lining for the bathroom as you stood in shock. Your heart thumping a rapid and unknown beat that spread down between the thigh clench of your thighs. You wanted to hear him rasp those words again. His eyes shadowed by the aching need of a man who hadn’t been laid in days.

Even if you could tell the book was the only thing to rile him up. That look alone would plague your dreams for months on end—your fingers working tirelessly to give you just enough.

You didn’t hear the thump of Eddie’s forehead hit the shower wall—his body humming with anticipation. Nor did you hear the gruff biting moan that bounced off tile, soon drowned out by water the second his hand wrapped around his already leaking and blushing cock. What control he clamped onto flew out of his body at the first pump of his fist, a wet grunt tumbling out of parted lips slick with his spit.

The last time he got off this fast reared in his mind. You prancing up and down a beach in a bikini, tits bouncing and the fat of your thighs rippling with each dash into the water. He came in his hand quick enough to make him go blind, his head fuzzy with the high of imagining you on your knees. Mouth parted to swallow his spend with soft breathy moans.

“Fuck,” he spit, thumb pressing beneath the head of his throbbing length.

Embarrassment should have washed over him by now—that twinge of shame tugging at his gut. But your flustered expression stamped itself behind his shut eyelids, desperation his base state in the confines of the small shower. For a brief second you wanted him. You yearned for him to keep going.

A stuttered moan ricocheted off the walls. No doubt loud enough to spill into the kitchen, but Eddie couldn’t fucking care. He was climbing towards a searing release, his body curling forward and hand pressed against the cold wall. The tremble of his thighs was the telltale sign that it would be over soon, but something shifted. Suddenly he wasn’t just thinking about you on the floor sucking him off to a quick conclusion.

Now he pictured you in the bedroom, bent over his kitchen counter as coffee brewed, on the floor of the living room strewn across a heap of blankets. He imagined you writhing in ecstasy with his name on your lips—your back bowed and head tipped as a cry wrenched from your throat. How his cock would slide into you with ease, slick pouring out to make a filthy mess between your sweaty bodies. He’d have you any way you wanted, but this he took for himself.

His imagination was his only solace in a life spent parted from you.

The stutter of your name ripped from his lips with a whine, the slap of his hand bouncing off the walls as he came with a hiss. Spilling over pale knuckles and washing down the drain with a sigh.

Pathetic wasn’t the word to describe how he felt the second he wrapped the towel around his waist, water dripping across the floor as he wiped down the fogged up mirror. He was the mud beneath a soldier's boots. The grime stuck to old cars left to rot in junkyards. Eddie had turned into a whimpering mess of a man at the mere thought of having you—yet he never tried to make that dream a reality.

“Nice going Alden,” he muttered, glaring at his flushed cheeks. “Fuckin’ up one day at a time huh.”

Jumping at the soft knock on the locked door, he felt his heart flutter at the lilt of your voice. Truly he was losing it—a hopeless case with no chance of being salvaged.

“Can I get in there Eddie?”

His teeth dug into his bottom lip, eyes rolling back at the violent twitch of his still sensitive cock. “Y-Yeah. ‘M done here.”

Wrenching the door open seemed to be a mistake given how close you were. Stumbling forward, your hand found purchase on his wet naked chest to steady yourself—the gasp filling his ears soft and high and everything he imagined. Your eyes dropped to the towel that hung low on his waist, the trail of hair leading beneath it, water dripping along the vein you’d seen before. Somehow up close it felt like more, like an invasion of privacy.

It startled you how much you craved to trace the shape of it with your tongue.

Heat flooded your face, hand falling to your side as he smirked, his arm propped against the door frame beside his head. “Take a picture kitten. You can frame it.”

Your face fell. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Getting to stare at yourself all day.”

“I wouldn’t not like it. Pretty sure I’ve got a camera around here somewhere.”

Shoving him to the side with a groan you set the small toiletries bag on the sink’s edge. “Maybe later. I’ve got to get ready.”

“We’re just going to lunch Kit.”

“Oh I know,” you replied. “But I’ve got a date tonight.”

There were times in his life Eddie wondered what torture felt like. A strange odd thought at the early age of twenty whilst watching a shitty action movie. But there standing two feet from the love of his life, he finally understood.

His heart dropped—stomach churning hard enough for a wave of bile to claw up his throat. He felt surprised he was still up on two feet, his mind reeling with the information you handed over with an air of joy. As if you couldn’t be more excited. Nails dug into his palm as he formed fists tight enough to hurt—the need to slam them into something (or someone) growing by the second.

You were going on a date.

A date.

With a man.

With someone that…wasn’t him.

“Who’s the lucky bastard?” he croaked, anger flaring in his tightening chest.

“Louie,” you said with a bashful smile, eyes bright and beautiful.

Eddie felt the knife slice through his chest, digging beneath the depths of where he could reach. Yet you still smiled without a care in the world. You couldn’t see him bleed before you, could barely notice the wound you inflicted, and he would never blame you for it. Because you were happy. You were overjoyed.

How could he rip that from you?

But even as the question crossed his mind he knew…he’d do it anyway.

The dress cinched your waist tight enough to expel the air from your lungs. Uncomfortable. Irritating. But flawlessly perfect with its velvet fabric that wrapped around you like a second skin—the maroon shade dark enough to match your lipstick. Within two hours you’d be desperate for it off, aching for the large t-shirt swiped from Eddie’s drawer and sweatpants that held enough coffee stains to change their color entirely.

You weren’t used to dressing up, primping and prepping for someone who may never tell you the words that lingered in the back of your mind. The heels dug into the back of your foot, black and awkward and everything you tried to avoid. You rooted around the bottom of your worn makeup bag, the mascara tube scratched and smudged. Even as you swiped it across your lashes you felt the burden of tonight settle heavy and palpable.

A guilt that stemmed from the very person outside this bathroom.

The man who built your idea of romance over the years—the knight in shining armor who might never come to your rescue.

Fidgeting with the hem of your dress, a silhouette cast in shadows appeared in your peripheral. Statuesque and hopeful with his arms crossed and spine stiff. You could feel the discomfort swirl in the air as he peeked his head around the corner for a small glimpse of what you were doing. At this point you couldn’t blame him. An hour and a half was definitely too long to spend in the bathroom.

“I can see you standing there,” you called, fixing the strap on your shoulder with a sigh. “If you needed the bathroom you could have told me.”

Heels clicked on the cement floor and the whisper of you sliding the zipper shut on your bag echoed in the relatively quiet living room. You passed him with a grin, tossing the essentials on the guest bed beside your coat. The color didn’t go with the dress—a disappointment you had no time to rectify—and borrowing one of Eddie's jackets would only send the wrong message.

The thump of his boots trailing behind you filled the space with a solemn farewell he had yet to bid you. He bit his tongue longer than you expected him to. No jesting or teasing. No jokes or shots taken on your behalf. For all intensive purposes Eddie Alden was suddenly at a loss for words—his blank expression and dark eyes throwing you for a loop that felt precarious.

He’d never done this; his mouth always moving faster than his own thoughts. A trait that got him into a fair bit of trouble back home. It’s what you had in common, what you were both known for.

Tonight however your playful Eddie was replaced by a man who watched you in complete and utter silence. A hawk trailing its prey. Which only made the hair stand on the back of your neck.

“For fucks sake,” you muttered, spinning to find him leaning against the door frame. The scrutinizing eyes you were unable to escape trailing down your velvet clad form. “Out with it you bastard.”

“Kit–”

“No. You’ve been tailing me all night since you heard about this date. So let it out, get all the jokes and sly comments out now before I leave. Because after tonight I’m not giving you the chance.”

With a heaving chest and wild eyes, you watched in utter shock as Eddie Alden…cracked a smile.

A fucking grin that stretched from one side of his face to the other. You should have felt peeved by the sheer nerve for him to pick at your temper this way, but the slow steps as he walked closer left your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. Warmth found a home in the base of your already thumping heart—your hands picking at the hem of your dress to distract from his slow gait. 

He looked you up and down, sizing up your body with a soft chuckle, before knocking the tips of his boots to the front of your heels.

“You look beautiful tonight kitten.”

Breath felt nonexistent in a space as small as this. You searched for it, clamored for even a morsel of oxygen, but found yourself standing there—mouth parted and eyes wide—with empty hands.

Beautiful.

Eddie called you beautiful.

How could you respond to something so shifting? Life altering, world teetering. You hadn’t felt this hopeless for something to say since he dragged you to prom kicking and screaming with a tux wrapped around his body and a gown around yours. Where you might have laughed—called him out on whatever bullshit he would pull any other night—you instead were left with absolutely nothing in your arsenal of spiteful vernacular.

And he seemed to be thrilled with the speechless flustered woman before him.

“Cat got your tongue sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.

Heat burned right down to your core, the strength in your knees suddenly weak and brittle. As if you didn’t know how to stand on your own.

“W-What?” you managed to choke out, unable to rip your gaze away from his glowing face.

“No response for my compliment?”

“Oh…um…”

He shuffled forward, knocking you back slightly. “I mean I was pretty nice and even if it is the truth don’t I deserve something nice back?”

Sucking in a breath, you felt the edge of the bed hit the back of your thigh. “Nice?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I am your best friend after all.”

Best friend.

Cold water drenched the top of your head, pouring an icy reality check down your spine with enough sense to wrench you out of whatever twisted fantasy your mind was conjuring. He was fucking with you. Pulling this move on purpose to keep you from making it to your date on time. It should have irked you—should have sent you into a state of fury—yet you couldn’t help but wonder if something else was hidden beneath his saccharine words.

You scoffed, shoving at his chest and drank in the satisfaction when he stumbled back with a gaping mouth. “I’m gonna be late.”

“Wait but–” The echo of his footsteps rushing after yours resonated off the window panes. “I’ve got something to say to you.”

“Can’t it wait until later? I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

An audible snort reignited the flare of irritation in your chest. “Who? The joke of a guy from last night? You barely know him and don’t forget you came to New York to see me not to–”

Whirling around you met him with pent up emotions that began to spill over an already full cup. “Not to what? Not to have a good time on my terms? Not to go out with a man I actually like?”

“You don’t know him!”

“But that’s not your decision!” Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you swallowed the wave of hot tears that rushed to the surface. “You always do this to me Eddie. You drag me along in your adventures and yes I go willingly, but you never—not once—allowed me an adventure of my own. Why? Why can’t I choose for once in my life?”

Somehow the silence hurt more than anything he could have said. Any excuse he might have offered as a shitty apology that would never come. He simply stood there, unable to form a decent string of false promises he’d never live up to. And for the first time you welcomed that unnerving sense of clarity with a bitter wave of your hand.

No matter how much you yearned for it to be true, the reality would always remain the same.

Eddie Alden would never love you.

Not in the way you loved him. He’d never feel each piece of his heart fracture as you slowly and yet all at once slipped from his grasp. That was the truth and you accepted it with a resigned sigh of utter heartbreak.

“Stay,” he finally admitted, eyes shining with tears that would eventually dry up and vanish. “With me.”

“Eddie–”

“Stay here and we’ll talk about this. And I’ll order a pizza with jalapeños and make you shitty coffee and let you hit me and yell at me.” Moving swift enough to throw you off guard, he gathered your hands in his. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do to make this right.”

You wished it were enough.

You begged it to be enough.

But you’d taken too many hits from a love life that suddenly felt fictional in comparison to what he offered you tonight.

Pulling away with a sigh, you didn’t see his expression of false joy crack right down the center. “I’ve got to go Eddie.”

“But–”

“Don’t wait up, okay?”

The door shut with a thud that bounced off each wall, settling unevenly against his hammering heart. He felt sick to his stomach. The grief of losing you—of quite possibly fucking up the only good thing in his life—rushed to the surface. Clawing up his already burning esophagus with a hostility that consumed him. His mind screamed to run towards the open door of the bathroom; his body wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment.

But his feet remained glued to the floor. Eyes trained on his now shut door simply waiting for you to come back. To waltz in with a different opinion, to rehash an argument that festered in both your minds for far too long.

He could hear his own heartbeat and the rush of blood in his ears.

He could hear the horns blaring and people shouting as the city took on a new persona as night came calling.

He could hear every breath he took in, every stunted exhale he let out.

But you were nowhere to be found.

The leather jacket was gripped in his hand before he could think it through, keys shoved into his pocket without realizing it. He acted on fear. The terrifying knowledge that this was it. That the moment he’d been waiting for all his life passed by and he fucking blew it. He watched it crash to the floor and made no attempt to save would could have been.

This love was written in the stars long before you met one another. The makeup of your hearts were carved directly into the makeup of the universe, forged by celestial beings and stray comets colliding together. You were more than best friends, more than soul mates. You were split down the center, always meant to find your other half in the touch of one another. If only he could make you see that.

Heavy footfalls echoed off the stairwell as he rushed out onto the busy street and into the icy cold. This wasn’t Eddie Alden the adult fuck up rushing after yet another notch in his belt. This was the boy who held you when you cried. The teenager who walked you home after classes. The high schooler who dragged you to parties you never wanted to go to. The football player who sprinted directly to you when they won each and every time.

The man whose heart was etched in the letters of your name.

Bundling the coat around your neck tight enough to stop the chill from seeping into your skin, you dashed into the open entryway of the restaurant Louie talked about last night. A fancy space filled to the brim with sparkling holiday decor, a tree that towered over you, and waiters dressed fancier than the patrons. You felt out of place the second you crossed the threshold. A fish out of water and dropped into waters that didn’t belong to you.

It shouldn’t have deterred you. A man wishing to take you somewhere magnificent on a first date; something you hoped might happen one day.

“You’re here!”

Louie Parker seemed to blend right into the glamour and opulence in a three piece suit—a golden chain dangling from his waistcoat and wool overcoat folded over one arm. He belonged. A member of a society you may never find yourself in again, but for tonight you met his stunning smile with a sheepish grin and cheeks filled with blossoming warmth.

“Sorry for being late. I couldn’t find the place,” you said, choosing to ignore Eddie’s blatant act of annoyance.

He shrugged, leading you to a coat check stand as if this were second nature—perhaps to him it was. “You’re new to the city. Bound to get lost at times.”

“You’ve got no idea.”

“Our table is safe.” He tossed a grin over his shoulder—effortless enough to throw you off balance. “I ordered a bottle of wine beforehand. Something decadent.”

“Wine’s good.” The words slipped off your tongue awkwardly as you handed off the coat with a soft thank you.

“I promise it is.” How his eyes trailed along the shape of your dress wasn’t lost on you, nor was the shift of his shoulders in his attempt to stand taller. “You’re stunning.”

The word should have made your heart flutter. It should have elicited the exact same response Eddie’s softly spoken beautiful did. Yet all you could offer him was a tight smile layered in a false air of hope diminished and dashed long before you entered this place.

He wasn’t Eddie. He’d never be Eddie. And you loathed that all it took was that simple fact for your heart to grow disinterested before the night truly began.

“I didn’t think I’d get to wear it on this trip,” you admitted, speaking directly to his back as you trailed after him to the table.

He spared you a glance and yet another smile. “I’m glad you did.”

“For your benefit or mine?” The tease felt wrong when directed at him. It felt like a lie.

“Mine I hope.”

Digging your teeth into your bottom lip to swallow the grimace, you shifted in the seat. “Guess you’re lucky.”

“I’m luckier than most.” His words were punctuated with a hand gesturing to the nearest waiter. “I think we’re ready.”

Floundering, you dug through the menu as Louie tossed his already thought out order into the air. There didn’t seem to be any reason for rushing, but there you were. Forced to quickly choose a meal before you even settled fully into your seat. The waiter glanced at you, eyes flashing with a look you’d seen before. A piteous apology he couldn’t say out loud.

You were stuck with a man who couldn’t see how out of place you felt. Someone who didn’t know how to read your pages.

“And for you miss?”

“Um…I’ll take–”

“She’ll have the same. Steak medium rare with an extra glass for champagne at the end.”

With that he signed off on what you were denying the whole way here. You weren’t meant to be sitting here with a man more interested in showing you off than asking what you wanted. But silence was all you could muster, swallowing the bitter wine with a hidden choked sneer of disgust. You longed for jalapeños on pizza and shitty beer and the promise of a good movie on Eddie’s horrible couch.

Oh how you’d rather be holed up in that apartment.

“So do you work?” he asked offhandedly, pouring another glass of wine for you.

“I do,” you replied, nails digging into your palm to stave off snarling at him with a rudeness Eddie would have enjoyed.

“Good. I prefer women who work.”

The meal dragged on the longer he spoke, barely giving you a chance to respond before he started up again. Topics you could barely keep up with, statements that felt one sided and drastically different than what you believed. Until finally you were halfway through chewing with a steak that cost more than your plane ticket and Louie directed his questions to you.

A surprising turn of events given his track record through the whole evening. You were annoyed, the dress dug into your waist, and the heels felt restricting even as you sat still and silent. A doll primed to perfection for a place that would have otherwise tossed you out.

“So you’re in New York with your friend?”

Swallowing the food with a sip of warm water, you nodded. “Yeah my best friend Eddie.”

Louie hummed. “Your best friend is a guy?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Did you two ever date?”

The itch to toss the remainder of your wine in his face grew by the second. “No we haven’t. We’re just friends.”

Another soft hum left his throat—another strike on your tally of shitty responses. “I just wanted to make sure. Don’t want to enter a state of drama in case things went further between us.”

“Further…”

“I have tickets to The Nutcracker in three days.” His hand slid across the table, laying over yours with a warmth that felt wrong. “I was hoping you would go with me.”

“Oh…”

“You could wear this dress again if you want.”

“Louie…”

His grip tightened, smile widening at your hesitancy. “You’ll be the prettiest guest there.”

“I’m not sure…” A flash of a man bursting through the doors caught your eye—a whirlwind of commotion that left you distracted for a moment.

Eddie’s face came into view, slightly red and distraught as the hostess attempted to grab his attention. He stood with his hair ruffled and clothes in disarray, eyes scanning the tables for someone. Until he landed on the one person who watched him with a flicker of need. The world melted away, Louie’s voice now a muffled echo in the background, as Eddie smiled wide enough to outdo all the shining lights in the room.

Any piece of decor paled in comparison when he looked at you as if nothing else of importance mattered. You were here, sitting in a red dress, and Eddie could feel hope surge in his chest.

Louie pulled you back to the present moment before you caught Eddie slipping past the front. Directing his way to the table and dragging a spare chair behind him he set it up at the edge of your table, plopping into the seat with a grin—shedding his jacket with ease. Like he’d been invited all along. You were irritated, angry about the stupid fight from earlier, but a small piece of you that longed to be rescued now rejoiced at his presence.

“Can I help you man?” Louie demanded, fingers tight around your wrist.

“No,” Eddie replied. “Just came to get some extra time with my best friend.”

Louie scoffed. “Alright come on, you can give her one night out without you clinging to her.”

“Am I clinging?” Eddie turned to you with a deep faux frown. “Kitten, you'd tell me if you needed space right?”

“Do us a favor and fuck off,” Louie snapped.

You flinched, pulling away the second his attention was off you. Unfortunately Eddie caught onto it with a grim expression and fists curled against his thighs. Always the protector, the dog with a fucking bone. Some days you relished in his nature to keep you safe, to snarl and bite at anyone who dared to pick on his favorite person. But tonight his otherwise cherished nature suffocated you where you sat.

He drowned you in the waters of his familial love as romance slipped between your fingers like sand.

“I’d watch your fucking tone,” Eddie warned, turning his glare to your date. “There’s a lady present.”

A biting laugh echoed in the still air—Louie finally reaching past the limit of tolerance. “She told me you guys didn’t date, but of course she fucking lied.”

“No I didn’t–” You gaped, sitting upright at his accusatory tone.

“You don’t have to lie for him sweetheart.”

Anger burned hot and painful in your chest, growing the longer you sat there stuffed between two men who couldn’t give a shit if you were hurting. With a sharp intake of breath, you snatched your purse off the floor and headed towards the coat check—leaving them behind to gather some sort of fresh air. Even as Eddie no doubt followed with blatant intent in every step he took.

You couldn’t take this anymore. The push and pull of a best friend who would never let you go. He’d never allow you to find a life that didn’t include him.

He’d never let you move on.

Tears spilled over before you could stop them, your fingers shaking as you tied the coat at your waist. The cold air filled with the stench of gasoline and nicotine became what you latched onto. A way to drag yourself back to the shore; a chance to survive Eddie’s dark waters before you were swallowed whole by them. He called your name while you walked, rushing to catch up with your quick pace—the heels doing nothing but slowing you down.

“Kitten wait!”

The familiar touch of his hand on your arm set off the wave of fury desperate to topple over. You turned with a shout, ripping away from his hold with a curse loud enough to startle him back.

“You are unbelievable!”

“Kit–”

“Do me the favor and shut the fuck up for once! It was a date. A date! That’s it! I get that you can’t handle when the attention isn’t focused on you and when I’m pulled somewhere else, but you had no right to act like an asshole!”

Heaving in a gasping breath, you watched as his pained expression blurred with the wave of fresh tears. “I can’t do this Eddie. I can’t live half a life until you decide to finally give up on our friendship.”

“That’s not why I showed up–”

You laughed, bitter and loud enough to garner looks, but you were past the point of caring. “No? You didn’t show up to embarrass me? You didn’t fuck up the one chance I had at a romantic relationship because you weren’t included in the choice I made?”

“No I didn’t,” he retorted. “And even if I did, why don’t you just admit it? Huh? You weren’t having fun on this fucking date anyways.”

“Why because you said so?” you shouted.

“I know you better than anyone.”

“Oh that’s rich. Just because you’ve known me longer doesn’t make you the final hammer in the nail that is my life. Mine Eddie! My life! Not yours!” Throwing your hands up at the first advancing step in your direction, you turned away from the man who saved you with the intent on ripping you open for an autopsy you never asked for.

A surgery of your still beating heart.

“Let me explain myself, would you?” he called, chasing after you down the sidewalk. “But of course you won’t, because you always run. You’ve run away from me your whole life!”

“Fuck you Alden!”

Down city sidewalks and past groups of people having fun, Eddie followed you every step of the way. Though his words died down, the anger dropping to a slow simmer in your chest, he still remained behind you—his hands tucked into his jacket pockets and eyes trained on the slight wince of your body with each step. The heels were digging sharply into your already raw skin but you refused to give him the satisfaction of helping you.

Not when the apartment was so close. Mentally you formulated a list of things to get done before your flight in a day. Pack your bags, flip Eddie off, cuss him out until the sun came up, and leave him behind as you stewed in your heartache and fury.

He couldn’t fight his way back into your good graces today. Certainly not during this trip.

This didn’t come from nowhere—you were entirely aware of that fact. The anger that spewed out of every word dipped in vitriol and pain stemmed from the deepest parts of your pining heart that screamed for him. A piece of yourself you buried continuously over years of hope. Time that you might never get back. You loved him without end, begged silently on every star that he might one day feel the same way. Only to understand he was stuck in his old ways.

Merely a boy loitering around in the body of a man.

Someone who never found the time to grow up—to become the man you needed.

The stairwell echoed with your footsteps, a melancholy beat to a song that should have ended long ago. Your time was up. The clock had run its course. And all that remained was the final goodbye to a friendship that began to fall apart long before you came to New York.

“Please talk to me.” The soft lilt of his voice nearly made you jump as he shut the door behind him.

“I’m tired Eddie.”

“We’re not done with this.”

Pain felt familiar in this moment, a new push of rage finding its footing in your weary form. “Give it up would you?”

He gripped your arms, turning you with a bruising yank that shoved the breath from your lungs. “I’ll never give up on you Kit. Don’t you get that? Giving up stopped being an option the day I met you.”

“Why?” you yelled, shoving at his chest. “Why can’t you let me go? Why do you have to keep me in this fucked up pattern of friendship? Don’t you get that it hurts Eddie? It hurts to see you chase after women, it hurts to never get a chance to do the same with someone else!”

“Tell me why,” he begged. “Tell me why it hurts. Keep yelling at me. Keep calling me a fucking asshole. Just talk to me. Please.”

“No!” Finally free from his touch, you stumbled back into the counter—your face a mess of tears. “You are an asshole. You’re the reason I can’t move on with my life! You’re stuck in my veins and I can’t get rid of you! The most pathetic childish man who can’t seem to handle his best friend finally getting a life of her own. Well I’m sorry Eddie but things don’t revolve around you.”

What little breath you had dissipated as you heaved between choked sobs. You knew he would leave your life eventually. You knew he’d get bored with the friend he barely saw in person. But this felt like torture—an agony he refused to take accountability for.

“Why?” you sobbed brokenly. “Why do you want to hurt me so much? What did I do to make you so angry that I’m finally moving on?”

“I’m not angry.”

“Then let me go!” You wiped roughly at your cheeks, uncaring that he stepped close enough to touch you. “Why can’t you let me–”

“Because I love you!”

Gaping stupidly at him the words failed to process—silence swallowing you before you could even fight against it. “What?” you whispered.

Chilled hands cupped your cheeks tenderly, his forehead falling to rest on yours—cold nose pressed to your frozen one. “I can’t let you go cause I’m fucking in love with you kitten. I’m yours.”

“Eddie?”

“I’ve been yours since I pushed you in that damn mud.” His sigh was warm, washing across your face and filling you with the wake up call you needed. “Through everything, through all the games you came to and nights on my roof.”

Disbelief colored your world as you gazed up at him, fingers curling around his wrists. “You…love me?”

He nodded, leaning close enough for his lips to brush yours. “Desperately baby.”

“You love me,” you murmured, lashes fluttering as he tilted you closer.

“I do.” Sighing, he pinned you to the counter until you had nowhere to go—no escape from the man who longed to wrap himself around you. “Let me kiss you, yeah? Can I kiss you? I’ve been dreamin’ about it since high school.”

Since high school. Since…

At this point you couldn’t tell if you were standing in the midst of reality or if your mind started to play tricks on you. Even as he said the words they felt misplaced. A way to keep you there instead of explaining himself. But for once you finally divulged in the dream you’d been harboring since childhood. An extraordinary moment of romance—a bliss you might never get again.

Catching him off guard you leaned up and slotted your lips against his with a soft sigh. He met you with a sharp inhale, fingers digging into your jaw as he kissed you back with a fervor that threw you off guard. His lips were chapped with the cold yet warm enough to soothe every ache in your body. Each sliver of pain now a fading memory with the swipe of his tongue along your bottom lip.

You should have pulled away. You should have forced him to talk, to explain everything in great detail. But the feel of his hands sliding down your back knocked every ounce of sense from your mind as need took over the cognitive choice for your actions.

His tongue found yours with a hoarse moan, your fingers twining into his hair still mussed by the weather outside. A sharp tug had him careening forward, his hand slapping against the counter behind you—a wet groan swallowed by the soft whine wrenched from the base of your throat.

You never thought kissing him would feel so exhilarating. You were nothing but a sharp bundle of nerves ready to be set alight with each touch, each lick into your mouth.

“Eddie,” you gasped, his mouth finding purchase at the side of your neck. Teeth scraping the soft skin and hands digging into the plush flesh of your ass.

“Stay with me,” he begged, hips canting against yours as a dizzy side effect of kissing your best friend rose to the surface. “Let me love you.”

“But the argument–”

“Fuck the argument,” he growled, biting down on your bottom lip. “Let me not be an idiot anymore.”

Your lashes fluttered, mouth falling open with the soft touch of his tongue sliding against yours. A heady moan dripped onto his taste buds, needy and wanting as you gripped his hair hard enough to elicit a sharp slice of pain. His cock throbbed in his jeans, mind hazy with the taste of wine off your tongue, but Eddie could feel the hesitancy in your veins. The knowledge that his words left you unsure of his emotions—lost in the sea he dragged you into.

He loved you painfully.

With every fiber of his being that slowly ripped itself to pieces at the thought of you never knowing the truth. You needed to know his heart beat for you. That his entire body screamed in agony at the lack of your touch—the need of more ripping at his chest.

He was yours to do away with.

Yours to toy with.

Yours to love and cherish.

However you wished to have him, he’d do it. Eddie would fall to his knees with the prayer of your name on his lips—begging to drink from your crystalline waters with the parched tongue of a dying man. He was in agony until you looked at him. Offering your own love on a silver platter.

“Can I?” he whispered, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Can you what?” you asked dazedly, lips swollen and slick with saliva. The sight made him voracious for more. For the sight of you coated in his spit.

He grinned, stealing another kiss with a whimpered sigh. “Can I love you how you deserve baby?”

The nod was subtle, a slight shifting of your head as glazed eyes darkened by lust met his searing gaze. But it was all he needed for his lips to find yours again, hands leading you into a stumbling walk to the guest bedroom lined with your things. He dug for the zipper of your dress, tugging it down quickly as you wrapped your arms around his neck—intent on keeping his mouth on yours.

A soft breathy moan emanated from your parted lips when his bare hands touched the skin of your back, sliding the velvet fabric off your body until it pooled in a heap at your feet. Nerves leapt beneath layers of hot flushed skin, your heart a ramming echo in the silence of a room filled only with his breaths.

But you heard him loud and clear.

The soft uttered fuck of a man who acted like he just witnessed a religious miracle. He was doomed the second your eyes finally opened to find his gaze. Pupils dilated and mouth open as he drank in the sight of you.

“You’re…” Sucking in a breath, he slid a hand over your stomach up to where the lace of your bra connected in the center with a jeweled bow. “Perfect.”

Rucking up his t-shirt, you let him kiss the breath out of your lungs. You fell into his hold with ease, because this was your path. Life led you straight to him, holding your hand through the heartache, promising you love at the end of it all. You just never expected his love would burn this way—a needy ache that built and built until you were ready to detonate. A hand curled around your thigh, hitching it over his thigh as he dropped you to the mattress.

His shirt beside your dress and jeans unbuttoned as they hung off his hips. With a shuddered breath you traced the vein along his stomach, smiling at the way his muscles contracted. A shudder running down his spine. He gasped, tongue sliding between your breasts—teeth nipping at the flesh with a growl.

“Wanna taste you.” Grinding his hips down hard enough for his cock to catch on the wet spot of your black cotton panties, he grinned at the soft cry that echoed by his ear.

Dragging him back up with a fist in his hair, you licked along his back teeth—hooking your other leg over his hip. “You already have baby.”

“Oh fuck,” he gasped.

Baby.

You’d never said that before, your voice pitched high and hazy with a hunger that curled at the base of his spine. Devouring you the way he wanted might be too much for you to handle.

He certainly didn’t want to scare you. Not when he’d been dreaming of this moment since his adolescence. But the thought of pounding you into the mattress, your melodious cries bouncing off the walls and the wet squelch of your pussy drove him to the brink of insanity.

“Say it again.” His teeth latched onto your nipple through the lace, sucking with a groan.

“Baby–” The pad of his fingers slid through the slick mess over the soft fabric, circling your clit hard. “Eddie!”

He smiled. “Want to taste you the right way.”

That unfamiliar high began to pull at your insides, spilling into veins and latching onto the base of your spine. He pulled the soaking scrap of cotton to the side, his thumb finding the source of absolute bliss and toying with it mercilessly. As if he wanted you unable to form coherent sentences. Your legs shook, hips meeting the gentle touch of his fingers.

“Look at her.”

The haze in your mind muffled the sound of his voice—his words taking a second to fully register. Until you realized who he was talking about. Or rather what.

“Gorgeous fuckin’ girl,” he muttered, transfixed by the drooling slick that clung to the lips of your cunt. Smearing it down to your fluttering hole, he felt the familiar wash of starvation creep back in.

He licked his teeth like a wild animal, panting at the sight of you so spread open and vulnerable. Your bottom lip was sucked into your mouth to muffle the wanting cries that slipped free anyways. Fuck what he wouldn’t give to keep you here past the point of no return.

“Want you to—ah—” Teeth found the inside of your thigh as his finger slipped in with ease. “Fuck. Y-Yes.”

“Yeah?” Another pressed in tight, his palm sticky as he plunged them in a quick paced rhythm.

Pitched high and cresting at the top of your lungs, his name rang through the room, the hot slide of his tongue through your folds pulsing heat between spaces in your body you didn’t know could exist. He sucked at your clit with a moan, nose buried in your mound and eyes bleary with an overwhelming need. The taste of you drove him feral, the squelch of his fingers as they found that patch along your walls loud enough to drown out anything else.

Eddie knew he’d never get enough once he got a taste. He just never expected it to feel this consuming.

“I’m fuck–” Gripping his hair, you dragged yourself along his tongue, biting back a cry of his name. He fell into it—drowned in your cunt with a hoarse moan. “G-Gonna. Eddie–”

“Please,” he mumbled, sucking at your clit with a sloppy languid kiss. “C’mon give it to me.”

“Wait,” you rushed out. He stilled at your touch, fingers still buried knuckle deep while you dragged the words to the forefront of your mind. “I need…”

Kissing your thigh softly, he nuzzled the skin with a satisfied sigh. “What do you need baby?”

“You.”

“You’ve got me.”

“Up here.” If your mind was in the right state you might have winced at how pathetic you sounded. But Eddie leapt at the softly whispered request, crawling up your body with the drag of his lips against skin—his tongue following, tasting the salt of your sweat.

Finding your mouth with a hum, he let you explore the tang of yourself off his tongue. That burning flame roaring to life at the sight of his chin coated in you. His hazel eyes were swallowed by the darkened pupil. The only time you’d seen him this way was after football games when the adrenaline was high and you were intent on celebrating in shitty burger shops. Which later turned into hole in the wall bars.

He ate your body and soul with one look. A man who lost all sense the second you kissed him in the kitchen. Even if you were still unsure of the verity of his words.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathed against his lips, hoping the sultry echo of your voice was strung with each syllable.

Eddie fell over your with a harsh groan, fisting the sheets as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. “You—fuck baby.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Wrong?” he chuckled. The flicker of distress clouded your mind, a different kind of sensation pulsing in at the top of your chest. But Eddie caught it before you could open your mouth, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a zeal that shocked you.

This kiss was different. No reverence bled through the sharp bite of his teeth against your lip. This was Eddie pouring gasoline on your shame and burning it with the flick of a match. He sucked the breath out of your mouth, replacing it with his own until you were sure you’d never breathe right again. Pulling away, you felt him chase after your lips with a hoarse growl—his body settling over yours before you could move.

“You can’t say shit like that to me,” he gasped.

“But I thought–”

A bruising grip around your wrist cut off the meek response—the coarse hair at the base of his stomach filling your mouth with saliva. He guided your hand beneath the elastic of the black boxers, the hot sticky head of his cock brushing your palm. Your eyes went wide, mouth falling open as he moaned loud enough to echo towards the kitchen—his brows furrowed and teeth bared.

“Oh…”

He grinned, letting you touch him gently, the soft pads of your hesitant fingers enough to stimulate him close to the edge. “Gonna make me cum in my pants like a fuckin’ teenager.”

Stroking him slowly, you watched with a prideful sense of exhilaration when he crumbled to pieces before your very eyes.

He hissed through his clenched teeth, fucking your clumsy version of a tight fist. Although that didn’t seem to matter to him. All he gave a shit about was that you were the one touching him. You were getting him off with dewy wide eyes and a mouth he dreamed of having around his throbbing cock.

“Shit,” he grunted, leaking over your skin at the soft gasp you uttered. “W-Wait. Hang on.”

Ripping himself free, he sucked in a breath with eyes squeezed shut and body stiff as a board. Somehow his experience didn’t seem to matter when it came down to you. All the years building his stamina vanished at the first pump of your hand, and Eddie held back his quickly rising orgasm by the skin of his fucking teeth.

Trembling above you, he managed to right himself enough to keep going. That still didn’t stop his cock from twitching at the sight of your parted lips—gaze burning into the side of his face.

“You’re dangerous kitten,” he finally said, pushing his jeans down and tugging at your panties before you could offer a response. “I want that off too.”

You nodded, undoing your bra quickly and failing to notice how his eyes immediately dropped to your breasts finally exposed. Eddie was dumbfounded. Mouth open as spit pooled on his tongue and eyes glazed over with the sight of you naked beneath him. You smiled at the blush that crept over his cheeks, spreading down to the top of his chest—his fingers digging harshly into the thin sheet he’d tear eventually.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, swallowing thickly at how your chest bounced with each shift of your body.

The wet heat of his mouth on your nipple surprised you, his hand twisting and tugging the other. Your back arched, nails clawing at his back but that’s not what dragged out another side of you—unmistakable in the flutter of your heart. A part of yourself that buried itself beneath years of pain. It burst forward, snatching what he gave you with a greed you swallowed happily.

His cock sliding through your slick had your head tipping back, hips shifting to catch any pressure on your pulsing clit. Eddie seemed to understand long before you could wrench the words out of your chest. The pad of his thumb found the bud, his mouth a hot cavern against the skin of your breast—other hand shifting to line himself up where you needed him most.

Reality dawn on you then.

The weight of this moment. A dream you held for near a decade.

Cupping his face, he fixed you with the heady glaze of lust that mirrored your own. That untenable feeling flowing from your chest to his—a permanent mark of forever you finally managed to unearth. He sunk in slowly with shallow thrusts and caught your lips in a kiss you felt down to your toes. Love, heartbreak, longing, it all collided at the back of your mind. Shining with a glow that left you breathless.

Doubt begged to rear its ugly head, but Eddie demolished it with a final short thrust—his hips settling atop yours. Sex wasn’t unknown to you. Merely a quick itch to scratch in your years of loneliness. But you’d never experienced being so full.

“That’s it,” he murmured softly, circling your clit to loosen your tight walls. “Let her open up for me.”

“Move,” you gulped. “Need you to–”

Pulling out he shoved his way back in with a harsh bitten out curse against the skin of your throat. The pleasure blinded you. Each thrust short and wet enough to echo in the room. He gripped your hips as he moved, slowly and then all at once. As if he couldn’t fathom the thought of sliding out of you completely—the heat of your cunt drawing him back in before he knew what was happening.

Eddie lost himself in you. He groaned and sunk his teeth into your shoulder and fucked you the best he could. And you cried against his neck, clinging to his back with each roll of his hips into yours. Something wound tight in your stomach, that oh so familiar sensation of bliss and you chased it. You spread your legs wider, your nails digging into his lower back, as the head of his cock brushed right where you needed.

The high whine he ripped from you had his head flying up from your neck—eyes glimmering with a wild haze that should have scared you.

“There it is,” he grinned—grinding down until you sobbed his name. “She’s singin’ for me, kitten.”

Sobbing a string of incoherent pleas, you felt him do it again. Slamming into it with an accuracy that shook you to your core. Come morning an array of red lines would be marked across his back, but the rasping shout of your name told you he liked it.

He soaked in the sharp pricks of pain as his balls began to draw up, heat building on his spine with insistence. But he was greedy and wanton and the thought of you never finishing first drove him off the edge.

Fucking down into you, he witnessed your face crumple with the intensity of it all. Your mouth permanently formed around the broken cry of his now incoherent name. Skin slapped against skin, the wet echo of your cunt sucking him back in spilled into every crevice of his apartment. And Eddie felt himself nearly fly off that tantalizing edge.

“Need you to cum right now,” he snarled, slapping your clit softly.

The air caught in your lungs, thighs trembling as he did it again, splashing your wet slick along his stomach. Yet no matter how hard you reached for that high you couldn’t grasp it in your hands. You longed to tell him—shout what you needed, but the words were lost to your dizzying state of ecstasy.

His lips sealed over yours, fingers pinching your clit. “I love you kitten. Fuck. I love you.”

Your back arched, walls clamping around his cock tight enough to hurt, as you came with a broken sob he swallowed. It poured through you like lava. Burning you alive with a mind numbing bliss you’d never be able to live without—an addiction settling into your veins. He panted into your mouth, crying out like he’d been scorched with the same fire, and followed you off that cliff.

The hum in your ears set in before you could hear the string of mumbled I love you’s he pressed against your tongue, his cum dribbling out and making a mess you could feel between your thighs.

He collapsed with a grunt, face burrowed into your neck as you tried to catch your breath. The thump of your heart finally in sync with his. Sparks trailed down your body where he touched you, fingers kneading soft skin, lips sliding up your throat with the last licks of his hunger. A man starved for the love of his life. He was helpless in your post coital presence, unable to even think straight while his cock softened inside you.

But he knew this would happen. He knew he’d never be able to let you go after this—forever attached to your heart with an invisible string now wound into a knot.

“Stay here with me,” he whispered against your lips.

Stay.

Even with the thick fog that filled your head you couldn’t deny that was what you truly wanted. This was the forever you always longed for. So why couldn’t you accept it without a hint of doubt? Why couldn’t your own mind settle on the words he spoke like a prayer. Something you always dreamed he’d whisper to you in the middle of the night.

You blinked up at him, brows furrowed until he kissed them with a grin. “Okay,” you said, hoping it would click the final piece into place.

The tears are what woke you up. A flood you couldn’t control, wave after wave that poured down your cheeks and stained the pillow beneath you. Though the dream remained a translucent memory right on the fringes of your mind, you knew what it was. A rendition your mind never seemed to let go of.

Eddie saying goodbye on his way to New York. Eddie making the choice of a different life.

Eddie leaving you behind.

His snores filled the room with a gentle echo you sunk into, his arm wrapped around your waist and face buried in the back of your neck. A morning you never thought you’d get. A dream finally come true.

You wanted to smile, to wake him up with another round, but the pain in your heart grew the longer you lay there in silence. The problem wasn’t last night or even what he said. The problem was what came next. You couldn’t just leave your hometown and Eddie would never make the choice to let go of New York. A city that burrowed itself deep in his heart, carving into the space that belonged to you.

This would always be his path.

A man with a future far too big to give it all up for a girl from his past.

You didn’t belong in New York. You knew that now.

Swallowing the harsh sob, you managed to wrangle yourself out of his grip, gathering a fresh pair of clothes to change into. But the sight of him splayed on the bed, sheets around his waist and arm tossed over his head left you breathless. A picturesque painting come to life. He was your muse, your whole heart on display for the world to see. The person embedded in your very DNA.

You would love him until the day you died.

And even after that.

The small suitcase remained packed near the dresser, your dress from last night a forgotten memory that lay strewn on the floor. You left it behind as you shoved on the only jacket you owned, your purse and wallet gathered next. The pulse of your racing heart nearly forced you to sit down somewhere and gather your thoughts. Yet if you did that…you’d never buck up the courage to finally let him go.

This wasn’t fair to him. You knew that.

You knew Eddie would fight you on going, his words lingering like a bruise on your heart. The softly whispered I love you still scratched into your skin. He loved you. He loved you.

He…loved you.

So why couldn’t you accept that? Why were you taking one final glance as the door shut behind you with its familiar thud. Loud enough to echo off the empty stairwell? Though you’d never say aloud, you knew the truth.

Fear.

The type of fear that clung to every breath, choking you from the inside out. You didn’t know how to love someone who finally loved you back. After so long pining, you suddenly felt like you were sailing out into the treacherous open waters of a heart you didn’t actually know. He loved you and yet there you were acting like a coward and running from the promise of more. The hope of a life fully lived.

Eddie jolted awake with the thud of the door, his body catching up with sluggish thoughts that filtered through his mind. Half awake and bleary, he reached for the other side of the bed expecting to find your curled up body on the edge of the mattress. Always pulling away in the middle of the night, always running. He grinned, blinking away the last dregs of sleep, and found an empty room.

“Baby?” he asked, leaning on his hands.

His gaze darted to spaces in the room that once held your things. The suitcase by the dresser, the purse on the desk. The jacket draped over a singular chair. Only to find nothing but the dust outline that remained. Eddie’s heart stuttered, stomach rolling painfully, as he clambered out of the bed and pulled up his jeans still in a heap on the floor.

Beside your dress.

“Baby!” The kitchen was empty, void of any life and Eddie frantically searched the fridge for a note, for that key he gave you.

It was discarded by the coffee machine, sitting in the lonesome shine of the afternoon sun.

“Shit,” he whispered, the burn of tears cresting.

Rushing to grab his things, he didn’t bother to check if the door was locked before sprinting down the stairs. Nearly tripping on his way down. You couldn’t have left him behind after last night. You weren’t capable of that kind of pain—that amount of soul crushing agony. Yet you endured it all through his time in New York. You listened to him ramble about his life here, about the women he never outrightly told you about—the memories that didn’t include you.

He left you behind without a second thought.

How could he think you wouldn’t do the same?

“Taxi!” he shouted, grabbing the nearest one to him with a panicked rushed out order to take him to the nearest airport.

The only place you could have gone.

“Where to miss?”

Sighing, you offered a tight lipped smile and set the worn suitcase by your feet. The chatter of the airport blended together, forming a mad rush of emotions you’d never witnessed before today. People coming home from a flight. Families going out for the holidays. Lives that rushed past you even as you stood still at the counter, explaining the details of how you’d like to move up your flight date.

A chance to get home before any bad weather sets in. Half a life.

“Perfect,” the attendant replied with a grin. “There’s one in twenty minutes. You can head straight to security.”

“Thank you. And happy holidays.”

You were given a curt nod in response, their arm extended to your gate number. The final goodbye to a life half lived.

“Can you hurry up please?” he begged, glancing at the line of traffic that eventually led to the front.

“I’m goin’ as fast as I can buddy.”

Eddie sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Alright yeah. Here’s fine.” He tossed the cash on the passenger seat, swinging the door open before the car stopped. “Thanks! And happy holidays!”

His boots pounded on the pavement lined with melting snow, people moving out of his way as he ran fast enough to nearly bowl them over. Apologies flew out of his mouth left and right, the edge of his jacket catching on stray luggage and shoulders slamming into groups of people. He couldn’t give them a second thought as he sprinted faster. His mind entirely and solely focused on the other half of his heart.

The piece that refused to beat without you there.

Even though he wracked his brain on the drive here he still couldn’t understand why you left. What made you decide to turn tail and run? Until it suddenly hit him hard enough to bruise the inside of his chest.

You never said you loved him.

He repeated the words over and over until his tongue went numb and lips went raw from kissing you. But never—not once—did you say it back. Did you love him? Did you want him? Or were you simply rushed into something without knowing what it was. That alone made him sick with fear. The thought that you didn’t want what happened last night and simply gave into him based on his need alone.

“C’mon kitten where are you,” he muttered, glancing at the lines of people that stretched on for miles.

“It’s just clothes,” you said, heaving it up onto the table. “Nothing unusual.”

“Good,” the man curtly responded, unzipping the suitcase with a sharp tug. Eventually you would have to find a new piece of luggage, but leaving again might not happen for quite some time. At least until you gathered the courage to finally flee your hometown. “Seems like it all checks out.”

You grinned, unable to make it reach your eyes. “Thanks.”

“You can go on to your gate.”

“Excuse me, where can I find this flight?” Eddie frantically asked the attendant at the front desk, his eyes still scanning the never ending crowd.

“Straight to the back. But you’ll need a ticket–”

He was gone before they could finish their sentence, his heart jumping with each step he took. The blaring echo of people everywhere he looked set his teeth on edge, his eyes burning with unshed tears as he searched for you everywhere he was able to see.

Rushing past groups of families and friends bidding their farewells, he finally spotted a familiar worn out brown suitcase gripped tight at the side of the final step in his path.

“KIT!” he shouted, watching with bated breath as you stilled, body going stiff at the sound of his voice.

With a gasping breath, you turned on your heel, catching sight of a ruined and broken version of the man you belonged to. The man who held your heart in his hands. Who could shatter you upon contact if you weren’t careful. He’d be the one to destroy you, but oh how you longed to be ripped apart by him. Oh how you ached to be that broken toy he did his best to fix—the stained glass window he might piece back together.

“Eddie, what are you doing here?”

“Stopping you,” he harshly breathed, striding towards you. “You’re gonna stand there and you’re going to fucking listen this time.”

“I’ve got a flight–”

“Do me a favor a shut the fuck up,” he cut you off, lips curling into a smile that sucked every ounce of willpower out of your limbs.

Your mouth clamped shut, eyes going wide as he finally reached you. His hand wrenching the suitcase out of your grip without even asking. But Eddie was done asking. He was done with appeasing others.

The boy torn to shreds by the hands of a father who never loved him. Only to be put back together by the girl who did.

“I asked you to stay.”

The dip of your head and frown painted across lips he could still taste shattered his strength. “I know Eddie. I just…”

“You just didn’t think I would say I love you?”

Your eyes met his, a fire flickering back to life. “You don’t love me Eddie.”

“Bullshit.”

“Eddie!” you squawked.

“You heard me, kitten. I love you. Of course I love you. How could I not? And you love me too. I know you do.”

“Don’t flatter yourself Alden,” you snapped, fighting against the tears.

“What about homecoming?”

“Homecoming?” you exclaimed. “What about homecoming?”

“You kissed me! And you expect me to forget about that? About the day you killed me?” Before you could argue, he glared at you—his lips still pulled into that fucking grin you adored.

“I have loved you since I was twelve years old and pushed you in the mud baby. I’ve loved you through every rooftop conversation, after every argument with my goddamn father. After every football game and college party. I have loved you through every fucking second in this city, because I don’t know who I am without you kitten. I never have.”

“Oh…Eddie.”

The suitcase dropped to the floor with a thud as he rushed towards you, hands cupping your cheeks stained in fresh tears. “I’ll love you till it’s me in the ground right next to you. Cause that’s where I belong, Kit. At your side. I am hopelessly, undoubtedly fucking in love with you. Forever.”

“I love you,” you admitted, finally letting go of the one secret that kept you going every fucking day of your life. “I always have.”

Smiling, he swooped down and pressed his lips against yours hard enough to hurt. But you welcomed the pain with a choked gasp of his name, burying your fingers in his hair to keep him close. An arm wrapped around your waist, yanking you forward with a breathy chuckle. A sound you burned into your mind as you kissed him back with everything held in your heart.

“Stay with me,” he begged, gripping the back of your neck tenderly. “Live in New York with me. Fuck marry me one day. But stay.”

Sucking in a breath, you searched for that sliver of doubt that always reared its ugly head and found nothing but warmth. The piece finally set in place. Where it belonged.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I’ll stay.”

Maybe you didn’t belong in New York, maybe you weren’t meant for the big city life. But you belonged to Eddie. You were always supposed to be with him, stuck to his side like glue—wrapped tight and safe in the arms of your protector.

He laughed, wrapping you in a hug tight enough to crush your lungs. “Let’s go cancel your fucking flight.”

Grabbing your hand, he dragged you past the people saying goodbye, past the families saying hello. Onto a path you knew well, a future overflowing with the warmth of his love. Eddie Alden loved you. He’d loved you all along. And it was everything you could have wanted. He offered you a life fully lived—a home inscribed in your story—and you took it without a second thought.

His fingers looped with yours, keeping you close, and you smiled at the sight. Leaning into his touch with a contented sigh.

“Hey Eddie?” He glanced to the side with a hum. “Will you make me that coffee now?”

A smile crossed his lips, arm wrapping around your shoulders as his lips found yours. As if he’d been doing it all along.

“You got it, kitten.”

FIN.

note: i still kinda can't believe that it's all over. but to those who let me know how excited they were for this story i want to thank you! i wouldn't have found the drive to finish it without you guys.🖤

[roosterr]

love you from afar

note: this has been in my drafts since MARCH. can't decide whether i like it or not lol. @wetsocksinbed angsty fic is up next >:)

pairing: john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader

wc: 9.5k (oops)

summary: you receive a series of mysterious gifts from a mysterious admirer.

warnings: longing, yearning, pining, best friends to lovers trope, idiots in love, heavy on the idiots part, tooth-rotting fluff

ao3

over the last two weeks, you’ve noticed some odd things happening around you; a good kind of odd, the kind that left you thoroughly confused, but was heartwarming nonetheless.

after going back and forth with it in your mind, you've come to the conclusion that you have a secret admirer. it was odd, and a little hard to believe, but it was the only option that made any sense to you. in all honesty, it was probably just your hopeless-romantic heart clouding your mind with optimism, but one can dream.

the first incident was harmless enough, a small inconspicuous gesture that was so subtle, in fact, that you barely paid it any notice at first.

it was the dead of night, and you’d just returned from a particularly gruelling solo mission, uninjured but bone tired and desperate to collapse into your bed and finally sleep. before you could fall into the blankets, however, you noticed through the darkness of your room something strange.

resting neatly on your pillow, illuminated by the dim light of your phone screen, was a single bar of your favourite chocolate. you didn’t remember buying it, and certainly didn’t remember leaving it there, but it was exactly the kind of pick-me-up you needed after the day you’d had. at the time, you’d chalked it up to you simply being forgetful, devoured the chocolate in record time, and promptly knocked out.

over breakfast the next morning, you'd recounted to the others the mysterious appearing chocolate as a funny anecdote; the five of you had laughed about your terrible memory, and you'd moved on. but now you weren’t on the verge of blacking out, you couldn’t help but think of it as weird.

for the life of you, you couldn’t remember buying the chocolate bar, and it didn’t make sense that you would leave it on your pillow like that. what did make sense, however bizarre it may seem, was someone else leaving it for you – but you had no idea who would do that for you, or why. either way, you didn't imagine that anything else would come from it.

the next incident happened three days later.

during training that afternoon, you were in the middle of running laps around base, when you’d – stupidly – tripped over a ditch in the ground and rolled your ankle pretty badly. it hurt too much to put any weight on it, so you’d sat there in shame with no choice but to wait for a few minutes until gaz and soap caught up to you.

as they rounded the corner, you'd reluctantly waved them over with a grimace at how your ankle was throbbing in your boot. johnny was immediately crouching by your side, abandoning the idea of training to focus completely on you.

"christ, what happened?" he fussed, worry creasing his face and making your own heat up under the attention.

"i tripped…" you mumbled, dragging a hand over your embarrassed expression. it was bad enough that you'd made such a simple mistake, but now the man you were crushing on, hard, was lifting your leg so gently and untying your laces and you were certain you were moments away from cardiac arrest.

he'd ushered gaz away to continue his run, telling him he'd accompany you to the infirmary with a tone that left no room for argument. not that gaz would've, the knowing look he sent you as he jogged away told you he knew exactly what you were thinking.

after making sure nothing was broken, soap had pulled you to stand with an arm around your waist, supporting you with his solid frame when you stumbled. 

"sure y'don't want me to carry you?" he'd teased, earning a laugh from you as you wobbled in his arms. as you chuckled though, you noticed a hint of what seemed like sincerity in his eyes. you'd felt your face burning again at the implication that he really would carry you, if that's what you'd wanted, and quickly started dragging him along with you in an attempt to hide your flustered state. 

he'd kept his arm around your waist the entire way to the medical wing, only releasing you when you were sat in front of the doctor, which did absolutely nothing to calm your racing heart. to your dismay, he couldn't stay with you – you were still in the middle of training, after all. 

"you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" he'd asked as he left, and the concern in his eyes almost finished you off. you were almost glad he didn't stick around to see the effect he had on you.

luckily, after a quick inspection, the doctor concluded that you only had a minor sprain, and you'd be good as new in a couple of weeks. she'd sent you on your way with an ice pack, a crutch, and strict instructions to stay off your feet.

you would've gone back outside to watch the boys (mainly soap) finish the rest of their exercises, but honestly, the embarrassment of what happened had you wanting to curl up with a pillow over your face for the rest of the day; so that's exactly what you found yourself doing.

you must've drifted off to sleep at some point, because once you finally sat up again, the sun had painted the horizon a bright orange, and your stomach had begun to rumble.

as you went to walk out into the hall, you heard the crinkle of plastic under your boot, pausing you mid‐step. when you looked down, you were stunned to find a bundle of three beautiful white flowers – gardenias, you'd found out after googling them later. an incredibly warm feeling blossomed in your chest, and despite your best efforts, your eyes had welled up with tears. you couldn't even think of the last time someone bought you flowers. there was no note attached, meaning you had no way of knowing who had left them for you, which sent your mind back to the chocolate bar from a few days ago.

so i'm not going crazy, you'd thought to yourself, someone really did leave it for me. but still, you had no clue who this mystery gift-giver could be.

you'd carefully picked them up, being mindful of your ankle, and turned back around to put them in your room. there wasn't really anywhere to put them, so you just set them on the ledge of your windowsill and made a mental note to find a vase for them at some point.

when you eventually made it to the mess hall, there were very few people left, leaving the room unusually calm. ghost was sat by himself at one of the far tables, so you hobbled over on your crutch to sit with him while you ate.

you sat down opposite him, and he'd looked up, gave you a subtle nod, and gone back to eating with his eyes fixed on the table in front of him. the two of you ate like that for a while, sitting quietly in each others presence.

ghost had been the first to break the silence, asking you, "how's the ankle?" as he pulled his balaclava back down to cover his mouth.

"just sprained," you'd replied, looking up to meet his eyes. another beat of silence fell over you, before you continued, "did you see who left me those flowers?" you'd asked him; it was worth a shot, you figured not much gets past ghost. to your dismay, he simply shook his head, standing and mumbling a goodbye as he left.

you were only more confused now. if ghost didn't know who it was – and, granted, you wouldn't actually be able to tell if he was lying, but you trusted him – then who would know? the next day, you'd asked the other boys, but they'd all said the same thing, even the captain. so you were left with nothing to do but wonder who on earth could be leaving you these gifts.

after that, it was another four days until your secret admirer struck again.

you'd been in and out of briefings and debriefings and meetings all day, your mind was beginning to numb with all the information that had been unloaded. you were tired; not quite the same exhaustion you'd felt coming back from your mission earlier in the week, though, this time you were at the end of your rope mentally. there hadn't been a moments peace since you got out of bed, and once that excruciatingly long day was over and you were relaxing in the common room, you'd had no energy to actually engage with your friends.

you were nestled into one end of the sofa with gaz next to you, ghost on his other side, and soap in the armchair with a small book in his hands. they were all chatting, with you occasionally saying a thing or two, but you were mostly just zoned out with their conversation serving as white noise in the background.

occasionally, you'd look up and catch soap already watching you, but he'd quickly turn his gaze back down to his book. his attention caused you to be equal parts flustered and confused. if you'd been any more awake, you probably would've asked him if something was wrong, but you were already having trouble keeping your head up as it was.

once you felt your eyes slip closed one too many times, you'd decided it was time to turn in for the night. with a quick 'goodnight' to the others, you'd made a beeline straight for your room – but it was more of a hobble, since your ankle still required you to walk with a crutch.

that night you'd slept like a baby, waking up early the next morning feeling well rested, and thankfully your ankle had even started to feel better. though you still couldn't join the team's training sessions, you had other responsibilities to fulfil, so unfortinately you did have to get up at some point.

you'd just finished lacing up your boots when you noticed it; a single sheet of paper on the ground by your door, folded once in half so you can't see what's written on it. from where it lays, you conclude that whoever left it must've slipped it through the gap under your door while you slept. you'd picked it up and sat back on the edge of your bed to unfold it, your curiosity certainly piqued. it make you wonder, though, what reason someone could have for leaving you a note.

except, when you'd lifted the page it wasn't a note at all. on the slightly wrinkled paper were a number of beautiful pencil drawings – drawings of you. the surprise of seeing your own face staring back at you nearly stopped your poor heart.

the jagged edge on one side of the page indicated that it must have been torn out of a sketchbook, which had interested you even more. you couldn't think of anyone you knew who could draw, let alone who would have a sketchbook dedicated to it.

whoever made this, it was clear that art was a passion of theirs – these drawings were really good. your hair, your eyes, the subtle expression on your features, every line was expertly crafted. it was incredibly flattering, and admittedly boosted your ego a little with how good those sketches made you look.

as you sat there smiling to yourself, you'd glanced up to the three flowers blooming on your nightstand. like the gardenias, the drawings were from your secret admirer, there was no other explanation; and an admirer they were, it was abundantly clear from these sketches that this person had an appreciation for you, if only from afar.

the drawings had been your favourite so far, but unfortunately, it was almost a week until your admirer made another move.

it had been long enough for you to start walking properly on your ankle again, and so you'd been slowly easing back into your workout routine, starting with your morning run. you'd taken it slow with lots of breaks to rest your muscles, but still decided to call it early, which had you back at your locker earlier than usual. as you were rounding the corner to the locker room, you'd heard the door slam closed and a set of heavy footsteps racing down the corridor. you'd only caught a glimpse of whoever it was as they dashed around the other corner, quick enough that you weren't able to see who it was.

you'd been concerned at first, whoever it was had been in a terrible rush, but you'd quickly shaken it off – it wasn't uncommon for people to be rushing around base, especially first thing in the morning. with your own meeting to get to, you'd decided not to dwell on the strange almost-encounter, and carried on with grabbing your towel from the bench and showering.

as you opened the door to your locker to fetch your clean clothes, sitting front and centre on top of them was something you definitely hadn't left there; a bag of your favourite hard candy, unopened, in the space that had been empty not half an hour before. how did these get here? you'd asked yourself, and you stood there confused for a moment or two before the answer came to you.

of course, your secret admirer. you'd felt the familiar giddy excitement bubble up in your chest at the revelation. it had been a while since the page of drawings had been slipped under your door, and it pained you how the gardenias had begun to wilt already. honestly, you'd been slightly worried that they'd given up, or something had happened to them. thankfully though, they seemed to be doing just fine, and you were too with such a pleasant start to your day.

it wasn't until you were sat in the meeting room, munching on your sweets and waiting for the others to arrive, that you realised.

the person, the one who'd been in a hurry as you got back from your run, it was them; that person was your secret admirer. they had to be, you'd concluded, the sweets weren't in your locker when you'd been in there earlier, and you did cut your run short, so they probably hadn't expected you to return so soon – that's why they'd been in such a rush to get away.

the revelation had butterflies swarming in your stomach, the idea of being so close to finding out who it was that held such fond affection for you sparking giddy excitement in you; but at the same time, it filled you with a sickly apprehension.

the problem was that you already knew who you wanted it to be – you had from the beginning – and you worried that uncovering their identity would only lead to disappointment; because there was no possible way john mactavish could feel the same way you felt about him.

soap had always been nothing short of kind and respectful of you, never stepping over the unspoken line if being your closest friend. sometimes, you can fool yourself into thinking he treats you differently – when he checks in on you after missions, when he always saves you a seat next to him in meetings, when he'd practically carried you to the infirmary, all of it ignited a warm feeling in your chest. but then you think about it a little more, and remember that all those nice gestures, that's just who he is. he wormed his way into the heart of ghost, for fucks sake, it was almost impossible not to like him.

you'd been so lost in thought, that gaz sitting in the seat next to you had startled you back to reality.

"gonna share with the class?" he'd asked with a teasing smirk, gesturing to the sweets sitting on the table in front of you. he'd reached out to grab one, but you'd pushed his hand away and snatched the bag to your chest.

"no way," you'd said with a playful glare, sending a quick smile to soap who'd taken the seat on your other side, "these are from my secret admirer, get your own."

gaz paused. "...your fucking what?" he had an incredulous look on his face, and you'd forgotten that you never actually told the others about it. "soap, you hearin' this?"

soap looked almost panicked when you'd turned to him, but he didn't have time to respond, as that was the moment price had walked through the door and announced the start of the meeting.

"i'll explain after," you whispered to gaz, who gave you a pointed look that said 'you better' and turned his attention back to price. you'd stifled a chuckle and looked back at soap, expecting him to have a similar expression, but he was already facing forward. you'd frowned at this; you and johnny would always whisper back and forth during meetings – a way to keep eachother entertained, as well as an excuse for you to sit close to him – but today his face had an odd air of seriousness to it. oh well, you'd thought somewhat downtrodden, just have to talk to him after.

and that's what led you to the present, where you'd been explaining to the boys everything that has happened over the last two weeks. well, you were mostly telling soap and gaz, ghost honestly didn't seem that interested, though the captain did have a rather amused expression as he listened.

"so you have no idea who it could be?" gaz had turned sideways in his chair, leaning forward slightly with his eyebrows raised. he looked to be in disbelief, and you were almost inclined to feel the same.

"nope, not a clue." you sighed, turning from gaz to look at the others around the table. price was standing with his arms crossed, giving you a similar disbelieving look, and ghost had that familiar unreadable look in his eyes.

"someone went in your room while you were gone?" ghost's low voice caught your attention, "bit creepy, innit," he grumbled, his gaze darting between you and somewhere next to you. he did have a point, you supposed, it was a bit weird.

"well… maybe a little, yeah…" you trailed off. perhaps he had a point, but you found yourself not wanting to believe it; all of the mystery person's gestures had been so sweet, thoughtful, it was hard to think they had any ill intentions.

that, and your heart has already made up its mind about who it should be.

"don't be like that, lt., whoever it is meant well, didn't they?" gaz chuckled, the grin evident in his voice.

"christ…" ghost mutters, shaking his head in exasperation.

"it may be a slight invasion of privacy…" you begin; and it's true, but after the first incident, it didn't appear that anyone had been inside your room again. "but it was only once. and it was just a chocolate bar, it's harmless. besides, are you really telling me you've never been in anyone's room when they're not there?" you continued, earning only an eye roll from ghost.

"and you haven't tried to figure out who it is?" price asks from his position standing opposite you, across the table.

"no, i wouldn't even know where to start, it could be anyone…" you try to think of anyone to suspect, but your optimistic mind only draws one name; the object of your affection, who happened to be sitting directly next to you. unfortunately, the two of you were strictly friends – no matter how much you longed for something more.

"i think you should investigate," gaz's smile makes you think for a moment that he knows something that you don't, but you brush it off. he didn't even know about your admirer until you told him, how could he? it wasn't like they were leaving any hints. "whoever it is obviously really likes you."

"you think?" you unwrap another sweet and pop it into your mouth as you consider his words.

"yeah! and, we could even help you investigate," gaz gives the others a hopeful, if slightly suspicious, smirk.

"speak for yourself…" ghost leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest, the picture of uninterested, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"could be a good bonding exercise," price had the same entertained tone in his voice as he looked between the four of you, "any thoughts, soap?"

you hadn't realised until the captain brought attention to him, but soap had been uncharacteristically quiet during all this; since before the meeting, actually. he hadn't said a word to you yet today, which had you a little worried. usually the two of you couldn't shut up when you were together. you turn to look at him, and find him looking wide-eyed back at price.

"i don't– ah, maybe…" he stuttered, looking between price and the table rather than meeting your concerned eyes, "...they're just shy? don't want to be known yet?"

"oh, y'think, mate?" gaz fully laughed at that, sharing a look with both ghost and price that held something you couldn't understand. now you're thoroughly confused.

"well, maybe he's right," uncertainty laced your voice, their reactions throwing you for a loop. "if they wanted to be known, they probably would've shown themselves by now, right?" you turn to soap, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else – but he meets your gaze with a tiny smile.

"so you're not going to investigate?" you look back at gaz, who has that incredulous look back on his face, and from the corner of your eye you see price and ghost both shake their heads.

"they can show themselves when they're ready, i don't want to push them." your mind was made up; if your secret admirer wanted to reveal their identity, then they would, it's as simple as that.

"but–" gaz tries to argue, but price quickly interrupts him.

"right, enough, you lot, clear out, you've all got work to be getting on with." he gestures for you all to stand, and after grabbing your sweets, you follow the others out of the room.

for the rest of the day, you endured endless amounts of teasing from gaz, and he even got some of the people from other units in on it. it had your face burning when they cooed over how romantic your 'mystery lover' was. you could only pray that they got over it soon, in the back of your mind you were slightly worried the attention might scare off your admirer, and you certainly didn't want that. but although you told the others you'd wait for them to reveal themselves in their own time, you'd be lying if you said you weren't practically dying to know who it was.

✹✹✹

"hey sarge," a voice sounds from beside you, drowning out the din of the mess hall around you. turning your head, you see it's a private; one you don't really know, but you give her a polite smile anyway. "i've got a message for you." she continues, producing a folded piece of paper from behind her back.

"a message? who from?" you ask, taking the paper from her when she holds it out to you.

she giggles, giving you a sly smile, "a secret someone," and with a suspicious wink, she turned around and left.

with the note in your hand, you look to gaz and soap, a baffled expression on your face. "does she mean my… admirer?" they both shrug at you, sharing an equally perplexed look between themselves.

"go on then," gaz says, "what does it say?"

you unfold it, and scan the neat handwriting of the message. soap and gaz watch as you read it, their curiosity overwhelmingly present in the way they leaned forward to try and see.

your face falls, and you frown. the note was signed – 'your secret admirer' – but you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in your heart.

"what's up? what does it say?" gaz notices the change in your expression, standing up from his chair and leaning fully over the table to read the note himself. you hand it to him, your good mood from this morning completely soured.

"apparently it is from my admirer," you begin, not bothering to hide the dejection in your voice, "telling me to meet them outside in five minutes."

the pair don't say anything, too stunned to form words as they continue to frown at the words in front of them. this can't be right, it just can't be, your mind laments, if johnny is sitting here, that that means he's not–

"seriously? just like that?" gaz interrupts your thoughts. he sounded annoyed underneath his shock, and you find yourself feeling the same way. "sorry, but i find that hard to believe – they didn't even leave a card with the flowers, did they? it just doesn't feel right to me."

you look to soap, who has yet to say anything on the matter. he doesn't meet your eyes, boring holes into the table with the anger in his gaze. your frown only deepens at his expression, the look on his face so unlike him it almost has you forgetting all about the cause.

"who knows," you sigh, plucking the note back out of gaz's hand. "this probably won't take long, i'll–"

"wait, you're going?" soap interjects, the frown on his face set much deeper than your own. his sudden question caught you off guard, paired with his irritated expression, and you almost thought he was angry with you.

"yeah, i mean, what's the harm, right? might as well just get it over with." you stand as you respond, folding the note back up. even if you were setting yourself up for disappointment, you still wanted to at least hear this person out; even if it wasn't him.

"what's the harm?" johnny scoffs – at you or at very idea of all this you aren't sure – and joins you in standing up, throwing his arms out with such annoyance, it catches you off guard. he gestures sharply at the paper in your hand, "this– whoever that is, it's pure shite! you can't see that?"

now it's you who scoffs at him; where is this hostility coming from? yesterday he seemed as though he couldn't care less when you were telling everyone about it, and now all of a sudden, he thinks he has all the answers?

"how would you know?" you shove the note into your pocket, your earlier sadness quickly morphing into annoyance.

as you move to walk away, johnny looks like he wants to say something more, to stop you, and you hesitate. you want him to; whoever your admirer was, whoever that note was from, none of it meant a thing if it wasn't him. all you wanted was for him to look at you the same way you look at him. gaz is looking at him too, subtly gesturing for him to do something, but he doesn't speak, doesn't meet your eyes as your face drops again.

"exactly, you don't. i'll be back in a minute." you huff, and without another word from either of them, you turn on your heel and make your way out of the mess hall.

it's safe to say your mood had swiftly and effectively been ruined. the disillusionment of realising that your secret admirer was someone other than johnny was one thing, but his sudden attitude towards you was the final straw. your face was decidedly sour as you trudge through the corridors, still with a slight limp which was only fuelling your annoyance for how your day was going. 

the cool air of the courtyard makes your skin bristle as you push the door open, taking a moment to survey the area as you stand in the entryway. to the left stands a lone figure, and you recognise his face, but – like the private from earlier, who you assume is his friend – you can't remember ever having spoken to him. with a deep sigh, you blink away bitterness in your expression and make your way over to him.

his grin is wide as he shamelessly checks you out while you approach, and you instinctually cross your arms over your chest. you come to a stop in front of him, frowning in a look that you hope screams uninterested.

"hey, sarge." he has an overly confident air to him as he speaks, shuffling closer under your scrutinising stare. of course he wouldn't take the hint.

"so it's you, then?" you ask, your voice flat and void of any emotion. you just wanted this to be over with, but it seemed luck just wasn't on your side today.

"it's me," he confirms, the blinding grin still plastered to his face as he inches even closer, "you surprised?"

"yeah, actually. i didn't know you were an artist." you reply, voice flat, and you watch him blink once in surprise. you raise a brow at his bewilderment, your patience already wearing painfully thin. he chuckles awkwardly in an attempt to hide how you so obviously caught him off guard.

"ah, yeah i uh–" he stutters, but you cut him off before he can make too much of a fool of himself.

"in fact, i don't actually know you at all. i couldn't recall your name even if you held a gun to my head." the hiss in your voice reveals just how over this whole situation you are. he opens his mouth to spout something else you have no interest in hearing, the sleazy grin falling from his face, but you hold a hand up to silence him. "so i'd really appreciate it if you left me alone."

"but–"

"and stay out of my room, and my locker, too. if it happens again, you're getting reported." you spit the final words at him, and turn on your heel to leave. before you can take another step, he grabs your elbow and spins you back around to face him, causing your ankle to twist awkwardly, which sends a fresh jolt of pain up your leg. you hold back a groan and fix him with a deadly glare instead.

"hey, c'mon, don't be like that!" you wince as he practically demands, getting much closer to you than was necessary, even with you arching backwards to put some space between you. "at least gimme a chance,"

"just leave me alone." you hiss, pulling your arm out of his grip and before he has the chance to do or say anything else, you hurry back the way you came, your limp noticeably more pronounced than earlier. thankfully, the private – jackson, you’d just about been able to read on his jacket – didn’t follow you back to the mess hall, which proves that he has at least half a brain. you hoped that he’d take the hint to stay away from you, but somewhere in the back of your mind you were preparing yourself to be hassled by him in the coming days; he certainly seemed the type.

you were gone less than ten minutes, but in that time most of the lunch crowd had cleared out, leaving the room a lot quieter than it had been. as you shuffle towards soap and gaz, still sitting at the same table, they both turn to look at you, and you can tell by the way both their expressions drop that they sense something is off.

"what happened?" gaz asks as you take your seat across from them, trying to hold back a wince when you put too much strain on your ankle, "your face says it didn't go well."

you sigh, looking between both of them, lingering on soap who’s already watching you with an intensity that has your face heating up. "it didn’t. it was just some private who can’t take no for an answer." you grumble, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand.

"your ankle okay?" soap asks, holding your gaze until you relent and look away first. you want to tell him not to worry, but you find it's impossible to lie to him, not when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the room. "what happened?" he presses, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.

"its nothing, he just– i just twisted it a little." you trip over your words under his stare, looking to gaz for help, but you find that he has a similar – albeit less intense – look of concern on his face. the silence hangs between you for a moment as you wordlessly try to convince them, but they see through you. "alright, fine. when i was leaving, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back, and i pulled my ankle."

if johnny had been pissed before, he was furious now; his eyes were dark underneath his furrowed brow, his lips turned down in a frown that looked more like a snarl. to see someone usually so easygoing with such a threatening look on his face was almost worrying, the only reassurance being that you know it's not directed at you.

"that prick… who was it?" gaz isn't nearly as affected as soap, but he's clearly annoyed by the audacity of the private. you shake your head, urging them to just let it go; he wasn't worth the trouble, after all.

when johnny says your name in that deep, gravelly tone, your heart skips a beat and your eyes snap to meet his. "who was it." he asks, but it's not a question anymore, and every fibre of your being is telling you to just give in to him.

"jackson. i don't know his first name…" you mutter, slightly flustered by the way he's acting. the tension in the silence that follows is nearly suffocating. from where his arms rest on the table, you notice johnny repeatedly clenching his fists, seemingly having some sort of internal battle with himself.

"what a bellend…" gaz grumbles, pausing for a moment to shake the disgust from his face. "so, what about the whole 'secret admirer' thing then?" he leans back in his chair, eyes darting to soap's profile then back to you.

"i don't know…" you sigh, "didn't really seem like something he was capable of, but i guess i don't really know him, so–"

"yeah, he doesn't seem the type, does he?" gaz interjects, with a newfound energy at your words. you narrow you eyes, sensing an ulterior motive, but let him continue. "i mean, buying you flowers, sweets– seems a bit too thoughtful for such a twat."

his jab coaxed a laugh from you, "maybe; i guess i was pretty disappointed when i saw it was him, though."

"oh yeah? expecting someone else, were you?" gaz has a grin on his face, one that has you worried that he's clocked on to your true feelings.

"something like that…" you clear your throat, suddenly feeling a little too seen for your liking. "anyway, i'd better get going, desk duty is no joke," you slowly stand up, making sure to be careful of your newly irritated ankle, and adamantly avoiding eye contact with either of them.

"yeah, me too, cap said he needs my help with something." gaz stands as well, giving soap a pat on the back and a suspicious wink as he walks off, which you willfully choose to ignore.

"you gonna be okay?" johnny comes to your side as you shuffle around the table, his hand brushing over your back to support you. butterflies begin to flutter at the feeling, and you scold yourself for being so easily affected. he seems to have calmed down a lot, the anger from earlier overtaken by his concern.

"yeah, i'll be fine, i think i'll just have to grab my crutch," you smile at him and take a step forward, wincing as you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

"c'mon, lemme help you," he tilts his head to meet your eyes, his worry evident within them. his hand is warm on your back, you have to hold yourself back from leaning into him. "cannae have you hurtin' yourself any more."

"you sure? don't you have work to do too?" you have every intention of taking him up on his offer, but you couldn't help feeling guilty for needing his help like this.

"i'm sure lt. can survive a few extra minutes," johnny gives you a reassuring smile, already ushering you out of the mess hall.

"well, don't blame me when has your head," you grin back at him, relishing in the comfortable feeling of being so close to him. distracted by his proximity, you momentarily forget about your injury and without thinking, you put too much weight on it as you take a step. with a pained gasp, you wobble on your good foot and pause to give your ankle a break.

johnny moves his arm to sit securely around your waist, gently pulling you to lean fully against him. "you sure you don't want me to take you to the infirmary?" he asks, lifting your arm to wrap around his shoulders.

"no, no– they're just gonna tell me to rest, and i'll be sitting down all day anyway," you move to continue on your way to your room, but he stays put. 

"you should still get it looked at, might be–"

"johnny." you stop him with a hand on his chest, "i'm okay."

you watch his adams apple bob as he gulps, his eyes flickering to where your hand is touching him and back up to your own, almost too fast to notice.

"right, right. sorry." he dips his head, breaking eye contact. you pull him gently, and the two of you start walking again. "you know jackson well?"

you scoff, frowning as you recall the events of earlier. "what? no, before today i didn't even know his name. he seems like kind of an arsehole, to be honest."

"really? made that bad of an impression, eh?" his lopsided smile feels oddly smug, but you decide not to overthink it.

"like i said, can't take a no." you grumble, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand, "i doubt this is the last time i'll have to deal with him…"

"he's not gonna bother you." johnny states, with a finality that is as stunning as it is comforting.

"...if you say so." you don't press any further, wanting to simply move on and forget about the whole thing. you'd gladly never think about that arrogant private again.

before you know it, the two of you are standing in the hall outside your room. his grip around your waist loosens as you push open the door, and you're all too aware of the cold feeling left behind as he lets go.

"thank you, for helping me." you shoot him a grateful smile, grabbing your crutch from where it leant against the wall, propping it under your arm.

"course," johnny pauses, looking past you to something in your room. "you… kept the gardenias?" he asks, his voice quiet, almost disbelieving. you tilt your head, a silent question, but he's still staring at the flowers.

"yeah, they're…" you begin, but his words have you pausing too; he didn't seem like the kind of person to be interested in floristry, you'd certainly never heard him say anything about it before. but somehow, he'd identified the flowers on your end table with no problem. "...they're nice. i like them, even if they do look a little sad now."

when he finally meets your eyes again, there's a distinct redness to his face that wasn't there before, and you feel your heart beginning to race with renewed hope. it could be that he just likes flowers, but if he already knew they were gardenias, maybe he…

"right, i, uh– i should get going, or ghost might actually kill me." johnny's voice had a dazed quality to it when he spoke.

"alright, i'll see you later then," you give him a small smile as you step back into the hall next to him. the two of you look at each other for a moment before you speak again, holding back a laugh, "you gonna go, or just stand there all day?"

your words seem to snap him out of the trance he’d been in, and he shakes his head in an almost comical manner, "right! right, sorry, bye!" he sputters, waving over his shoulder as he jogs away. you chuckle to yourself as he goes, and start walking the opposite direction to get started with your own work.

✹✹✹

you didn't see soap again until the next day, considering that he was strangely absent from mealtimes both last night and today. thankfully the incident from the day before hadn't done any further damage to your ankle, so you were up and about without the need for your crutch after a good night's rest.

you'd just dropped off a folder of paperwork in price's office – which you'd completed in fairly good time, thanks to being stuck behind a desk for nearly two weeks – but as you descend the staircase, you're almost knocked over by someone flying around the corner. you caught yourself with a hand on the railing, blinking away your surprise and glaring at whoever had carelessly bumped into you.

much to your chagrin, it was jackson, and you feel your face naturally falling into a frown at the realisation. you’d been expecting him to try and change your mind about yesterday, but true to johnny’s words, he had yet to bother you about it; actually, you hadn’t seen him at all since then, not even at breakfast or lunch, but it's not as if you were complaining. 

though, as you stare down at him from the step above, you notice a deep purple bruise decorating his cheekbone that definitely wasn’t there yesterday. your frown turns from malice to confusion as you wonder how he could have gotten it in the span of less than a day, it looked like he’d taken a serious punch. you couldn’t say you felt bad for him, but it did look painful.

"listen, about yesterday… i- i lied,." jackson mutters, eyes glued to the floor to avoid your own. he was shuffling in place, as if he was preparing to bolt at any second. your eyes narrow as you process his words.

"what?"

he clears his throat. "i lied. it wasn’t me, i just said it was because one of the guys bet me i couldn’t get you to go out with me." he admits. the way he keeps avoiding your eyes, glancing around like he was waiting for someone to jump out at him has you a little suspicious, but your heart still soars when you realise what he means.

jackson wasn't your secret admirer, so your hopeless romantic heart could still dream that it was johnny. the flutter of butterflies even distracts you from the insulting notion that he only wanted to go out with you for a bet.

"seriously?" you ask, your shock evident in your voice as you stare him down. finally his eyes land on your own, an embarrassed grimace overtaking his nervous expression. it's a stark, satisfying difference to his arrogant overconfidence from before.

"yeah. i’m sorry, okay? i don’t want any trouble, it was just–" he cuts himself off, but when you give him a questioning look, he can't tear his eyes from the space behind you, and only mumbles what sounds like a ‘sorry’ before scurrying off back the way he came. you watch him go, thoroughly confused by the whole interaction, but not a moment later a voice from where he was staring brings you out of your thoughts.

"y’alright? little shit wasn’t botherin’ you, was he?" soap's voice cuts through the quiet, and you turn to see him descending the stairs to stand next to you.

you shake your head, "no, no, he just–" you hesitate, your mind going back to yesterday and the gardenias. "he lied, it wasn't him."

"really?" he asks, but his voice doesn't sound surprised at all. you're not sure if you imagined it, but for a moment his expression changes into something like satisfaction.

"yeah, he was about to say something else too, but he just ran off," you sigh, walking down the last few steps. soap follows close behind, a hand hovering near your back. "did you see that bruise on his face? wonder how he got it…"

"looked nasty, eh?" a laugh escapes him, and you admire the way his lips curve, the creases around his eyes as his smile reaches them. "maybe he finally got what was comin' to him."

his face was close to yours, a lot closer than you could reasonably handle without losing your nerve and making a fool of yourself. realising you had yet to respond, you clear your throat and start walking down the corridor, your eyes to the floor and a burning in your cheeks.

"if he never speaks to me again, it'll still be too soon…" you grumble, willing your heart to calm down as he comes up next to you in a few long strides. "anyway, what have you been up to? i haven't seen you all day." with a quick glance, you see the easy smile he has falter slightly.

"i was, ah–" he avoids your eye as he stops himself, a beat of silence passes before he continues "nevermind, i– i was… looking for you." your heart skips a beat, but you scold it for being so eager; the two of you were teammates, friends, he could be looking for you for any number of reasons.

"looking for me? what's up?" you turn your head to face him as you walk, a curious tilt to your brow.

johnny comes to a stop, and so do you a moment after. he looks at you, fidgety and shifting on his feet, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. the look on his face is unsure, uncomfortable, like he was debating running off like jackson had done a minute ago.

he's nervous, that much you can tell. but despite the slightly awkward tension, you you wait for whatever it is he's struggling to say.

"i… uh– y'know what, i actually forgot." johnny hangs his head, pulling his hands from his pockets and scratching the back of his neck.

at his words your heart sinks, and you can't help the disappointed look that takes over your expression. "oh? are you–"

before you can finish, he drops a hand on your shoulder and steps ahead of you, turning around so you're face to face. "listen, ghost is waiting for me, so i gotta run," he smiles again, but it's weaker this time, almost forced as it doesn't quite meet his eyes.

"right… better not keep him waiting."

"right," his reply is short, and the tension between you only grows every moment he avoids your eyes. "i'll see you later though, promise." he flashes you another false smile, gently patting your shoulder, before turning on his heel and swiftly escaping down the corridor.

"bye, johnny." you release a sigh, from longing or exasperation you're not sure, watching his form disappear through the doors.

✹✹✹

despite his promise, once again you don't see soap for the rest of the day. at dinner you'd questioned ghost on his whereabouts, but he only told you that he had no idea either. this time however, you got the strong feeling he was lying to you.

still though, you couldn't find it within yourself to be annoyed with him. you could see clear as day that something was going on with johnny, and if he didn't want to confide in you about whatever it is, then you certainly won't be the one to push him.

having finished today's obligations, you decided to head straight to your room once you'd finished eating. you open your door, a sigh escaping you as you prepare to collapse for the night, and stop dead in your tracks.

a folded sheet of paper lays in front of you, standing out against the emptiness of your floor, crumpled like it had been screwed up and flattened out again. a sense of déjà vù overcomes you, for last week, when you'd received the sketches of yourself in the same way. for a moment all you can do is stand there, staring at the paper, processing.

eventually, you do step into your room, shutting the door quietly behind you and picking the paper up from the floor. you keep it folded until you're sitting on the edge of your mattress, hands shaking ever so slightly with the anticipation.

you're not sure what to think, as you sit burning holes in the paper with your stare. after yesterday, you thought you were done with the idea of your secret admirer; but then again, jackson had admitted to you earlier that he'd lied when he met you yesterday, and the whole reason you weren't as interested after that was because your pipe dream of the mystery person being johnny had been shattered. but now that the identity of your admirer was once again a mystery, you couldn't help but want to dream like that again. 

with a defeated groan, you decide to just rip off the bandaid and read the note. you unfold it, immediately noticing the scratchy handwriting – the opposite of the note jackson gave you, so thankfully it couldn't be from him.

you hear your heartbeat in your ears as your eyes scan the words in front of you.

i stayed up all night trying to write this note, but nothing i came up with felt good enough, so i'm just going to say it. i'm your secret admirer. i know you probably won't believe me after that bastard yesterday, but i need you to know anyway. i used to think that love just wasn't my thing, that i'd never find someone i wanted to spend my life with, but that changed when i met you. i didn’t realise it at first, but it's always been you. you're my person, and i can't hide it anymore. i love you. maybe i'm a coward for giving you a note instead of telling you face to face. but if you don't feel the same, you can throw it away, or burn it or something, and i'll never bring it up again. your heart, johnny

the silence in your room borders on deafening as you sit completely still, reeling from what you'd just read. you didn't realise you'd stopped breathing until you release a shaky breath.

all this time, it was johnny.

every longing glance, every touch that lingered just a little too long, the racing pulse every time he says your name; it was all reciprocated.

every time you thought you could never have him as anything more than your best friend, you were wrong.

he cared enough to leave you a pick-me-up after a hard mission, buy you flowers when you got injured, draw you the way he saw you, gift you things he took the time to notice you like.

all this time… he'd felt the exact same way you do.

you set the note down next to you, bringing a shaky hand up to cover your mouth that had fallen open in shock. there was only one thing to do, in your mind, and that was to run into johnny's arms and make up for all the lost time you've spent pining over him.

in seemingly no time at all, you find yourself standing at johnny's door, your fist poised to knock. theres a moment of hesitation, but before your apprehension can cloud your mind, you let your knuckles rap on the wood once, twice, three times, and take a step back as you wait for a response. after a second or two – which felt a lot longer than it actually was – you hear the sounds of footsteps from inside.

another moment passes, and you assume johnny is standing on the other side with his heart in his throat just like you, short-lived before he finally swings the door open.

he looks at you, eyes wide and like a deer caught in headlights, the way he holds himself uncharacteristically shy as you stare each other down.

"the note," you finally murmur, and johnny almost flinches, clearly fighting the urge to look away from you. "tell me you meant it." you continue, taking a miniscule step closer to him. you hear his breath catch in his chest.

"every word." he whispers, gaze flickering down to your lips and back up to your eyes again, and your heart misses a beat.

with no hesitation this time, you hook your arms around his neck and pull him towards you, crushing his mouth against yours in a desperate kiss that's as much teeth as it is lips.

johnny groans into your mouth, his hands flying to your waist as he turns and walks you backwards into his room. the door gets kicked shut behind him once he's got you inside, neither of you breaking apart more than enough to draw a single ragged breath before meeting in the middle again. with another needy whine into you he pushes you up against the wall, caging you in with his broad shoulders and his arms around your waist.

the weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his stubble prickly against your face, the softness of his lips against yours; it's everything you've been waiting for, and now you finally have him, he tastes sweeter than you could've ever imagined.

the two of you stay like that for moments that feel like hours in each other's embrace, only pulling away when your lungs are burning and your lips are swollen. leaning your head back against the wall, his eyes meet yours with such adoration it sends your heart fluttering all over again.

"i'll take that as a good sign," he mumbles, a lopsided grin lifting his features. his joy is so infectious you can't help but mirror his expression as you drop your head to rest on his shoulder.

his chest rumbles with an airy, disbelieving laugh and he tugs you impossibly closer, resting his cheek against the side of your head. standing chest to chest now, you can feel the hammering of his heart against yours and the way his skin burns under your touch.

"you’re my person too," you murmur into him, one of your hands moving up to tangle in the strands of his mohawk, "always have been."

johnny's arms wind tighter around you as he releases a deep, content sigh. he's hugged you countless times before but somehow, this feels different while still staying exactly the same. the heat radiating from him is soothing like it always has been, the knowledge that your feelings are reciprocated only making it that much sweeter.

"why'd it take us so long, eh?" he utters, tender and loving in the way he runs his hands over your back and sides.

"we're just idiots…" you reply, "gaz is gonna have a field day with this."

johnny laughs again, pressing his lips to the side of your head so you can feel his smile. "oh, he clocked us a long time ago, bonnie."

you can't help but groan as you imagine how gaz will tease the both of you for how oblivious you've both been.

he lifts you up by his grip around your waist, carrying you over to his bed and flopping down onto his back with you on his chest. a satisfied groan escapes him as he settles, burying his face into your hair and inhaling a deep breath.

you're enveloped by the scent of him – gunpowder, and the faint smell of something burnt, but it's pleasant and familiar nonetheless.

"yer stayin' with me tonight, non negotiable." he murmurs, running a hand up and down the length of your spine.

"fine by me." you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, and find them already locked on you. "so, about jackson…"

johnny scoffs, lightheartedly frowning in response. "yer gonna bring his name up while yer in my bed?"

"he looked really spooked when he saw you earlier," you begin, smoothing your hand over his chest. his eyes widen at your words, his hand freezing as he looks away from you with a distinctly guilty expression on his face. you narrow your eyes, holding back the amused smirk pulling at your lips. "johnny… did you…"

he clears his throat, and by the way he can't hold your gaze for more than a second you can tell he knows he's been caught. there's no stopping the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at his reaction.

"...i may have, uh– potentially put some fear o'god into the little bawbag…"

"soap!"

[ruruvxz]

Or any Hanni fic would be great. Like domestic hanni would be extremely cute too.

“Anniversary”

Girlfriend!Hanni Pham x Fem!Reader

↳synopsis: Taking a well needed rest was everyone’s dream after a long week of slaving away on your desk, filling out spreadsheets and whatnot. And you were no expectation to that rule! But even if you yearned for that break, you couldn’t get it because of a house party you were invited to; that just so happened to be the same day as your anniversary you forgot about. Your poor girlfriend couldn’t take it any longer!

↳cw: swearing, neglectful reader, mentions of alcohol, jealous Hanni, fluff

↳wc: 2.6k

a/n: genuinely this has been marinating in my drafts for so long, I keep forgetting what I want to write. sorry it took quite a while to get back to this request but we’re all good! anyways hope you enjoyed!!

You felt awfully sluggish today, maybe it was the copious amount of tasks your awful boss assigned to you, or perhaps it was the looming fact that you agreed to party at some old high school friend's apartment. Not to mention the fact that you'd only have a few hours of rest at your apartment before having to get up again, you really could've just declined the offer but your friend needed you to be there, and you didn't want to be a flaker!

As you dragged yourself to your shared apartment with your girlfriend, you inserted the key into the door and snapped it open, letting out a loud grunt as you pushed yourself through it. Immediately coming inside you scent the pungent aroma wafting in the air, the trace getting more noticeable as you walk past the kitchen. Popping your head inside you see your girlfriend, Hanni, trying to cook up something. It was surprising since she usually wasn't the one to cook, nor come home before you.

From the look of her messily thrown-together bun, staying intact by a flimsy claw clip, she returned not too long away. Hanni looked a bit too fixated on what she was cooking that she didn't even notice you coming in, letting out an exasperated sigh you walked over to her. Rubbing her back while leaning over her shoulder, Hanni was a bit surprised her body jolted at your touch.

"Oh, your home!" She squealed, turning her gaze towards yours, her glasses almost falling from the bridge of her nose. "I'm making us dinner!" She smiled, looking back at the pan that was slowly grilling a few vegetables. You took the time to inspect all the work she put into constructing the perfect meal, and honestly, you were looking forward to her cooking.

"Thank you so much, Hanni, I needed this." You expressed your gratitude before she lifted a piece of broccoli to your lips, giving a little chuckle as you ate the broccoli without hesitation.

Sadly, as you munched on the green vegetable, you felt your phone vibrating in your back pocket, your ringtone filling both your and Hanni's ears. It wasn't all that uncommon for anyone to call you after you clocked off, but from the contact number it most definitely wasn't an innocently confused junior coworker, it was your friend. "Shit" you mumbled as you checked the time.

"I'm so sorry baby, I just realized I have something to do... I can't eat dinner with you tonight." You sullenly spoke, putting the phone back in your pocket, Hanni just gave you a distraught look. "I just remember I'm meeting up with Belle, she's having a get-together." Mumbling as you continued. You felt so awful but you already promised Belle— Hye-Won that you'd meet up with her, but your poor girlfriend was slaving away to make you both a delicious meal.

"Oh uhm! It's okay Y/N don't worry about it—, we can always have dinner another time" Hanni reassured, clamping her palm on top of yours; it felt so heart-crushing seeing your girlfriend reacting this way, but you already made a promise to a friend. "M' sorry baby, I promise we'll have dinner together next time... it's just I don't wanna let Hye-Won down."

"Don't worry about it Y/N! There's always next time." Hanni laughed weakly as she pulled her hands away from yours, breaking any contact she had with you to flimsily play with her food. Being the pushover she was, she couldn't get herself to protest against you, even if today was special, not only to her but also to you, to both of you. Today had marked your 2nd anniversary, a day which would've and should've been celebrated together in each other's arms, but that completely flew over your head. Technically it wasn't your "lovers anniversary" as per se, it was more like the day the both of you first met. It was a tad bit silly, you both met in the university entry week and kindled your friendship turned relationship from there.

But the story of how you met wasn't even the focal point, what was more important was the fact that unbeknownst to you, you had been subconsciously ignoring her the whole day. Whether that be this morning when you mistakenly abandoned her when you hastily got ready for work, greeting her with an empty apartment when she woke up. Or when you unknowingly lost your phone the entire day just to be greeted with multiple missed calls and messages from your girlfriend.

It was all too much, and Hanni felt as if she was losing you, what was she even to do? She can't confront you about it for fear of scaring you away even further, but if she continues to ignore the issue who knows what will happen? All she could do was cook you one of your favorite meals in the hopes that you'd fall back into her arms. And by the stare you were in, it didn't look like it was quite working; maybe it was doing the opposite.

Overwhelmed by the thought of you leaving her, her face scrunched into an unpleasant one, overthinking every minuscule detail, plotting different ways she could get you back. Even if you were dense, you weren't an idiot and could see the discomfort written all over her sweet pout. "You know... you can come with me if you want baby." You offered reaching your hand out to pinch her cheek, shaking it around a bit to tease her.

Hanni's eyes instantly lit up at the idea, maybe this could get her the perfect opportunity to get through to you, and maybe you'd leave your little meeting with your friends to have a proper date to celebrate your anniversary. "Really? I can?" She asked pushing her hair out her face as she looked up at you, practically jumping at the opportunity to spend a little bit of time with you. "Of course bun, I'd probably be bored out of my mind anyways." You laughed taking your hand off her cheeks to ruffle a bit of her hair. "C'mon' let's get going bunny— promise you'll like it, baby."

"Okay!"

This was a mistake. Everything about this "get-together" was a mistake. Hanni was under the presumption that this was a small little hangout with a bunch of close friends, but it could be farther from the truth. In all reality she was stuffed like a pack of sardines with a bunch of people she had never met, you told her it was a high school reunion but she didn't know half of your graduate grade would come. All of which you apparently "knew" somewhat, whether it was from mutual connections or you genuinely liked hanging out with them.

Whatever it was, you ditched her to go hang out with a bunch of pals you hadn't seen in a while, leaving her to sit on a crowded couch and socialize with three other girls she'd never met. Hanni's bubbly personality was only able to get her so far before eventually getting more and more drained as the girls got to talking more. Maybe it was because they kept talking about mindless topics or maybe it was because her eyes kept lingering back to yours. Your carefree attitude when you gave your devoted attention to the girl who was talking to you infuriated her more and more.

The girl had soft curly locks that reached to her waist, she was undoubtedly taller than Hanni and was a lot more different from her. Just the way she presented herself struck a cord within Hanni, especially when she was all so bold whenever she touched the hems of your shirt. The curly-haired girl's personality was oddly touchy, getting more and more bold as she rubbed your back and your arms with a soft giggle. The fact she was getting away with this and the fact you were so dense about this made your girlfriend bubble up with rage even more.

In your defense, you got more and more uncomfortable by the touch but were far too intoxicated to convey your message. Resorting to backing away slowly whenever she got too close, it was the least you could do as you knew your girlfriend could be here any time. As the curly-haired girl continued your conversation it took Hanni far more constraint, not to have had to pry the curly-haired woman's hand away from you. Although she was left on the couch watching from afar not saying a single peep to not stir conflict with someone she did not know about.

This didn't negate the fact that Hanni was still aggravated, to the point that she hadn't noticed she tightened her grip on the plastic cup, that it started to leave soft dents. Oh how she wished she could just chuck her drink at the girl next to you and drag you away, but she was better than that.

It wasn't until the curly-haired girl got a bit too handsy when she was checking out your necklace that Hanni got you for your birthday that she finally got Hanni to reach her tipping point. She threw the pillow that was resting on her lap back on the couch and excused herself from the conversation she was having with the other girls. Strutting over towards the both of you and wrapping her arms around your waist tightly. Making sure to dig her head in the crook of your neck with a pouting face. "What are you guys talking about..." Hanni whined playfully as her gaze burned into the woman's in front of her.

"Huh? Hey baby, she was talking about how much she liked the necklace you got me." You replied honestly, a bit oblivious to the girls glaring at one another.

"You must be the lucky girl, Hanni was it? I'm Aaliyah." The taller girl replied, tucking a strand of her curly hair behind her ear with a soft laugh. She took one glance at Hanni, before pulling her attention back at you, completely ignoring her presence before talking once more. Almost as if Hanni was just some close friend, then an actual partner for you; the conversation lasted for a bit before your girlfriend cut her off once more.

Her grip slid away from your waist and swung around your neck as she talked, grasping onto you tightly when she spoke. “So how about you? Has anyone been lucky in your life?” Hanni asked bluntly, a bit of a rude question from your point of view, but what were you to say about that? “No, not anyone I can think of right now,” Aaliyah replied irritated by her question using her free hand to fix your puka shell necklace, before Hanni used her arm to swat her away. The tension grew thicker as your slightly drunken state was standing right in the middle of the two girls.

It came to a point where both girls were having a sarcastic and bitter conversation about relationships, as you stood there, Hanni’s arms around your neck while another girl was flirting with your face. You were beyond embarrassed and just wanted to run back to the car and hide, but the way the conversation was going it didn’t seem like it. “That’s a shame you can’t find a good match, maybe avoid going for other people who are taken? I don’t know just a hunch.” She bit back, taking a jab at how out of all the people in this party she was flirting with her Y/N.

“You’re so right, sorry I didn’t see a leash on them.” She laughed and looked back at you and back to Hanni, the way Hanni wrapped her arms tighter after that comment struck a nerve with her. “Oh dear, why would anyone need to do that, maybe if people respected others there would be no need for that.” She scoffed, before releasing her grip off of you and giving her full attention to the snarky woman in front of her.

“Oh don’t be THAT insecure—“

“Don’t be like that Aly.” You finally spoke up, defending your girlfriend while your head pounded at the situation and the fact the music was oddly getting louder. “C’mon bun, let’s go.”

“Awh Y/N, we were only playing around!” Aaliyah responded rubbing her nape before looking at Hanni’s scorned expression, it intimidated her nonetheless. “You play too much Aly…” You responded looking back at Hanni, stroking her head before resting a sweet kiss on her flushed cheeks, explaining to her how Aliyah was just a friend who likes to tease other people’s partners for some sick reason.

“She’s an… oddball, that’s for sure, she’s just messing with you.” You laugh lowly, continuing to run your fingers through your girlfriend’s hair as she wraps her arms around your waist. It didn’t take long before you soon forced Aaliyah to apologize to your girlfriend before you left, it was a bit awkward, but they were both able to set the record straight. Finally making it back to the car and hurling yourself in the passenger seat to let Hanni drive back home, being the most sober one between the both of you.

The drive back was silent, but she still resented you for the fact you forgot your anniversary, once you both made it back to the apartment she quickly changed and headed to bed. You found it odd that she went straight to the bedroom without a mindless conversation or a sweet treat, so you quickly ran to her aid. Maybe something was wrong! (There most definitely was, she was on the verge of tears as she laid her head down on the pillow, hoping that maybe by some miracle you’d realize how much today meant to her. And how quickly you forgot her anniversary for the whole day.)

“Hanni, is everything okay? Why do you look so down?” You asked kneeling in front of her as she rested her head on the pillow with her eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t reply, as she just turned her head away from yours, looking to the other side to get some rest. “Don’t be like that, what’s wrong hun?” You asked standing up and stroking her arm over the covers, to give her some comfort, from the discomfort you didn’t know you caused.

“Anniversary.”

“What?”

“Today was our anniversary.” She cried as she rolled back over toward you, tears welling up in her eyes. You felt awful as you continued to rub her shoulders, you really didn’t know it was your anniversary today, and when you looked at your phone to clear your suspicions everything clicked.

“Hanni…”

“What.” She barked as she hid herself over the covers once more, hiding her crying face. “Our anniversary is tomorrow, not today.” You laughed as you pulled the covers away from her body to show her your phone with the date plastered on top of the time. Hanni’s cheeks burned red as she sat back up, apologizing profusely for the way she acted, as you laughed at the whole situation. Once she finally stopped apologizing you grabbed her and pulled her into your chest as you ran your fingers through the back of her hair. Spending the rest of the night in each other's arms before the clock finally struck midnight.

“Would you look at that?” You looked up at the clock, displaying a perfect midnight. “Technically it’s our anniversary today.” Laughing you nudged Hanni before she pushed you off playfully as she stared at the clock.

“Happy anniversary Y/N.”

“Happy anniversary Hanni.”

[siriussimon]

simon riley who’s desperate for love. who yearns to be wanted or needed. being in the military for so long, it’s a challenge going back to civilian life. that wanting only grows when he moves in next to a pretty little thing.

he makes a habit of smoking his cigarette out front at exactly the time you stubble on home from your shifts at work everyday. any chance to see that pretty face was his reason to even go on living.

you on the other hand find him a bit creepy. at first. it took some time to warm up to. who wouldn’t feel unease when you see a man bear-like and over six feet with a skill baklava on? you’ve never seen his face but deep down you’ve been dying to figure this guy out. you’d always say hello to him on your way home, the only time you’d see a part of his face, mask pulled up over his nose that looked to be a bit crooked, lips scarred, and you came to the conclusion that maybe he was a famous boxer? you had many ideas on what he did in his life and most came down to some sort of violence.

he seems rough but maybe parts of him were tender and sweet and and and—

“ ‘ello? you hear me?” a gruff voice shook you from your day dream. there goes your fuzzy brain again, forgetting where you are, where are you?

a hand comes to rest on your shoulder, and you realize your arms are burning because you’re carrying your groceries and the elevator door up to your flat at opened waiting for the two of you to get off.

“ ‘ere lemme get that.” your neighbor, simon had said grabbing the two bags and carrying them with ease as he waited for you to lead him to your home. you only muttered a small ‘thank you’ face filling up with heat from embarrassment, daydreaming about your neighbor when he’s right next to you!

as you were opening your door he waited behind you. you were about to open your mouth to tell him he could just leave them by the door but he pushed past you, and headed straight to the kitchen.

“si- simon, you really don’t have to!” you stuttered out as you followed him to the kitchen, watching him set the bags down and unpack them. you felt so nervous having him in your house, this was the first time he’s ever been in here, you’d only had dreamed of him being in here—

“makes me feel useful.” he only murmured, and he felt like you could see the grin underneath his mask. you tried helping him but he only grumbled for you to sit down. so you just watched him put your things away, surprised to see that he knew exactly where everything was meant to go. and when all was done, you followed him out the door, thanking him for all his help.

your eyes eyeing the broadness of his back as you followed behind him, noticing his jumper had the name riley on the back. he stood on your welcome matt before turning around, his mask ridden up to show his scarred lips.

“i’ll be back for dinner, yeah?” his hand coming up to cup your cheek, placing the softest kiss on your lips, a small squeak leaving your mouth in surprise. you only nodded when he pulled away and watched him walk back into his place.

yup, you’re definitely crushing hard on your neighbor.

[shdysders]

last kiss

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which you and tara truly had your last kiss.

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: this song is fully based on last kiss by taylor swift. also sorry for bad update and shit writing, i’m currently not feeling motivated for it.

"I love you."

Those were the three words you had whispered into Tara's ear, with your soothing and mellifluous voice.

It had been late. 1:38 to be exact. You couldn't fall asleep, although you thought Tara was. Whispering in her ear and kissing her cheek, being completely unaware of the fact that she hadn't yet to doze off either.

She had tried her hardest not to let the huge smile spread across her face. You had whispered the words for just the two of you to know.

Later that night, Tara had opened her eyes, feeling the need to see your features once again before drifting off. You'd looked so tranquil, peaceful. Your face lit through the darkness like a radiant moon, casting a gentle glow all around.

You told Tara you loved her.

So why did you leave? Go away?

It was not until now Tara remembered the time when you had reunited with her after sixteen long weeks apart. The sixteen weeks of Tara's school semester, who had felt like an eternity.

She recalled the smell of the rain, the sound of the drops hitting the hood of her rain jacket, and the fresh downpour on the pavement.

You had stayed up the entire night, just to get to the airport just in time so Tara wouldn't have to wait when she landed. July ninth.

Tara had ran of the plane just to see you, sprinted towards you the second she saw your sneakers on the concrete floor of the arrival hall. She jumped onto you, embraced you in a bone crushing strength you didn't know she had.

She remembered the smell of your floral scented perfume in her nostrils, and the way she felt your heart jumping through the material of your hoodie. She could still feel your arms around her sometimes.

Now she didn't have anyone to sprint towards after she'd gotten off a plane.

The only way she could feel your smell now was when she wore your clothes, the garments that you had left at her house and then forgotten.

Tara put on your clothes almost every day, sitting on the floor of her room, letting the smell of the different fabrics bring her to a happier place; the memories with you.

She thought about how much she missed you all the time. Although she was unsure if you ever thought of her.

Tara felt unsure of everything. She didn't know if the split between the two of you was the cause of it, or if it was all of the betrayals from previous events. But she did know that the only thing she was certain of was that she didn't know how to be someone you missed.

She knew you didn't miss her, but that didn't stop her from trying to figure out how to get you to yearn for her. As much as she did for you.

Was the key to get a new partner? Or post stuff that showed she was happier than ever? What could possibly make you want her again?

Something else Tara thought about constantly, was your last kiss. The last kiss she never thought the two of you would have. She thought you would spent the rest of your life alongside one another.

She had never thought about her relationship with you ending nor taking a drastic turn, but when it did come across her mind one time, she'd never imagined that it would happen like this.

She never planned on kissing Chad.

It wasn't on purpose. Of course it wasn't.

She would never intentionally do something to hurt you. Never.

But she had done it anyway. She had tried to blame it on the alcohol that she had poured into her body minutes before, but she was very aware that wouldn't get her anywhere.

Because the truth was; Tara didn't have a reason behind it, not at all.

She had asked herself the question over and over again; why she had done it, knowing that was the first question you'd ask her when she told you. But she couldn't come up with a proper answer.

Tara had felt out of place for months. She had felt this longing for comfort and validation. She knew that if she talked to you about it and expressed how she felt, you would've erased that feeling. Oh how she wished she had went to you to begin with.

She didn't know why she didn't.

Tara knew she could trust you. She knew she could trust you like a lighthouse guiding her through stormy seas.

Yet her mind told her something was wrong. She was fighting a battle with herself at that point,

the internal battle being between what she knew was right and the temporary relief she sought.

She felt disgusted with herself for sleeping with Chad. They had known each other ever since birth, and she thought that might've ruined their friendship for all eternity, however that wasn't the relationship she was worried about ruining.

The relationship she was worried about destroying was with the person's name she had accidentally moaned out.

Your name.

It was always on her lips.

Even when she tried to enjoy herself with other men, all she could find herself thinking about was you.

You'd forever be the name on her lips, no matter how hard she tried.

As she looked back on your time together, she couldn't help but remember the swing of your step. The way you moved with such grace and confidence. Each stride carried a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her heart.

You were the life of the party, always showing off, whether it was in beer pong or in dancing, you loved dancing. You would always pull Tara onto the dance floor just so she would join you, and she would roll her eyes for it.

Tara wasn't much for dancing, she'd never liked it and was never going to. But for you, she did dance. She danced like nobody was watching, and she never seemed to regret it, because it always made you beam with a smile.

She'd do anything to watch you smile. She'd do anything to be with you again.

Because she loved the way you greeted Sam with a gentle handshake whenever you joined them for dinner. She loved the way you walked with your hands in your pockets.

How you'd kiss her when she was in the middle of saying something. She'd always end up kissing back, and she never complained, yet she still called it rude interruptions, and there wasn't a day she didn't miss them.

She'd do anything to experience that again.

The only experiences with you she had now, was the ones she tried to relive with your clothes on her body. When she would sit on her floor, pressed into a corner of the four walled room, either sobbing or just thinking about you, and how she didn't know if you ever wasted a thought on her.

She was now watching your life in pictures as regularly as she used to watch you sleep.

You slept over at her house almost every night, and on every occasion Tara would lay in front of you for hours, just admiring your features and relaxed face. She never told you about it, but now she wished she did.

She could feel you starting to forget her, as often as she used to feel you breath. Whenever you embraced her as you slept, she made sure to keep count your breaths and the amount of seconds between them, like they were about to stop if she didn't count.

They never stopped. Luckily. But she stopped hearing them after she'd told you the truth. About what she had done with Chad. She never got to hug you again after that, or count your heartbeats.

Tara tried to keep up with your old mutual friends as often as she could, asking them how you were doing. She always received short answers, politely short answers.

She could tell they wanted nothing to do with her. Same as you wanted nothing to do with her, Chad or even Mindy.

You would occasionally greet Mindy in the corridors, never even bothering to look at Tara or Chad, which was understandable, but that didn't stop the jealousy from flooding through Tara's veins from the sight.

She hoped you were doing well. She hoped it was nice where you were. Wherever you were. Whoever you were with.

She hoped that some day, when the sun would shine and it'd be a beautiful day, that you'd be reminded of something about her, and that'd you wish you had stayed. For whatever reason.

She hoped that at some point, you'd think back to the last kiss you shared, that you would change your mind, and that you'd want to come back to her.

Just so everything could be the way it was. The way she ruined.

[bahrtofane]

your relationship with jude is something that remains to be seen. and yet you love him, he loves you. will you finally admit it?

Word count - 900+

Watch it - silly over thinking reader, its okay jude is there

—--

“I think you’re one of a kind.” he hums, flicking the hair tie on his wrist-your hair tie-against him. The soft slap it lands on his skin brings you back to reality. 

You don’t look up. Partly afraid, partly ashamed. Who are you to be one of a kind to Jude ? 

He swallows, fidgeting with his hands from his seat across from you. You worry him in more ways than one. Eager to come when he calls, and yet so shy and timid when you get here. It's almost like you're afraid of him- are you? He hopes not. That's not what he wishes this to be.

You sit at the dining table in his home, you don't know why you sat here first. Couch felt too intimate, too real. He didn't oppose, letting you take a seat farthest away from the head of the table. There's a hidden meaning here you wish to bury. But your mind knows it all the same.

You have to face it head on eventually, why not now.

“I’m sorry.” you mumble out, as graceful as a newborn calf. Half the confidence as one. You finally manage to look him in the eye, you want to cry the moment your eyes meet. He sits leaning against the table, afraid of missing a single word from your lips. 

His eye brows furrow, “what for?” soft as ever. 

“I don't know,” you sigh,”for-i guess just-making you deal with me while you have so much going on.”

He frowns, “I wanna show you something,” getting up and motioning for you to follow,

Did he not hear you? What is he up to. 

You follow him through the halls of his house, past doors and hallways till you get to a door at the end of the hall. You look at him, brows raised, puzzled. 

He pushes the door open and you're greeted to a bedroom. Jerseys line the walls, there's a shelf for trophies. And then it dawns on you, this is his room. You've never been here, not yet. A threshold that you haven't let yourself cross. And here you are, here he is, holding the door open for you. It's like he's opening his heart out, carefully carved an incision over his chest where you fit. You blink.

“Come.” is all he says.

So you do, sliping inside and awkwardly standing off in the corner.

He smiles at you, soft, shaking his head. He rests a knee on the edge of his bed, patting the top. So you do, gently sliding on and waiting for his next move. 

He doesn't speak, instead kneeling down and shuffling under his bed. He brings out a shoe box, handing it to you. 

He's giving you a pair of shoes?

You open the box and  find a scattered collection of memories spanning the time you've spent together.

Polaroids if you two, movie tickets, game tickets, little trinkets you hand him on a whim. 

“I was gonna put it in a proper box but I figured you needed to see it today,” he scratches the back of his head, gaze shying away from your own. 

He's scared. You see it in the way his legs bounces next to you on his bed, the way he's chewing his bottom lip, hands balled up in his own comforter. He's scared it's too much, that he'll be giving too much too soon, too much for you and you'll shrink away from him indefinitely. He can't help it, he loves too hard, too soon. Love. he loves you. Do you love him too? He hopes, prays. His right hand picks at his nails, he's picked it til he's bleeding. He pays no mind, he doesn't even notice. Do you love him too? Say something,, anything, he wants to say, yell, scream and shout.

He's Jude Bellingham, and he's afraid of his own love. He's nothing but a boy who years for one the way he yearns for them. He's Jude. And he yearns for you. 

You take a breath in, setting the box down next to you. He panics, eyes going wide and scrambling out of his seat. Oh he's done it again hasn't he. Letting his big stupid dumb heart do the thinking. 

You pull his arm, getting up, and tackling him in a bone crushing hug, sending him back first to his bed,just about knocking the air out of him. 

“I love you,” you mumble, now laying on top of him. And he laughs. He laughs loud and bright. You love him.

“I love you!” he manages to blurt between giggles. 

You smile, but you can't contain your tears. He keeps every memory? In a neat box under his bed? As a reminder of his love? In order to always keep you near? To never forget not even a second?

You didn't know someone could love so much, so hard, so wholly. And here he is. Giving his heart to you. The little incision on his chest now a gash where his hearts been ripped out, handed to you. He trusts you all too much. But you love him. Oh how you love him. If it meant carrying the world you would. 

Oh how sweet jude is. He wipes your tears, gently kissing your forehead. 

“Hey hey, it's okay. I got you.” he mumbles into your neck.

Does he ever.

[jjunberry]

wrong address

pairing! park sunghoon x reader

genre! angst with a happy ending

synopsis! part two to return to sender. just as y/n seems to move on sunghoon manages to steal her heart…again.

wc! 2.8k

the last few months of school were painfully embarrassing for you. not that anyone brought up the letters but you did share classes with a few of the boys who got one. jake, taehyun.. you never really got to properly talk about the letters with them but they understood. it was just a silly crush, nothing serious. you never met for those letters to see the light of day. the one person who’s letter actually did mean something wanted nothing to do with you. sunghoon, he ignored you at all costs even moved his seat. he truly met what he said to you.

when school finally let out for summer, you couldn’t wait to get away. away from the letters, away from sunghoon. or so you thought. that was until you got a summer job at the local ice cream shop. your first day on the job he walked in. park sunghoon walked in. his eyes landed on yours. before he could say anything to you the owner came from the back smiling widely. “oh sunghoon my dear i’m so happy to see you again.” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

‘’oh y/nie this is my nephew sunghoon he’s spent the last three summers here, he’ll be the one to train you!” you swear your heart dropped to your feet. he faked a smile for his aunt and as soon as she left the smile was replaced with a scowl. he quietly placed his apron on and started preparing cones. “look sunghoon i know i’m the last person you want to be working with, but i’d appreciate it if you’d try to work with me.” he let out a long sigh. his back muscles clenched. you could practically feel the tension in his shoulders.

“y/n you’re the last person i wanted to see here.” he spit. your heart ached just like the day he rejected you. “well i’m sorry to intrude on your summer job, but i need to save money for college so i’m not going anywhere.” he rolled his eyes. the two of you worked in awkward silence. this was how you spent most of your days.working together in silence.

after a few weeks you swear you felt him warming up to you. even after his rejection you still yearned to just be his friend. the shop was busy today. sunghoon and yourself was busy giving out cones and sundaes. You wasn’t aware of the ice cream on the floor until you slipped on it. a strong pair of arms grabbed your waist. your eyes met sunghoon’s and you swear your heart was beating out of your chest. you couldn’t tell if it was from his closeness or the fear of almost falling.

‘’you need to be more careful.” he said before returning to his task. you swore your heart beat never slowed down. when closing time finally rolled around you were more than ready to leave. you were putting away the washed ice cream scoopers when you felt him behind you. “here you forgot these.” he handed you two more scoopers. “oh thanks.” you mumbled. he nodded and put away the rest of the dishes.

the both of you hung up your aprons before leaving. he locked the door. “it’s late, do you need a ride home?” he asked, turning to you.smiling you nodded. “yeah that would be nice.” he nodded and you followed him to his car. you would have given him your address but he seemed to have known already. then it hit you, he remembered because of your letter. he pulled up to your house in silence and watched as you got out. “thank you.” you said.

“no problem i’ll see you tomorrow.” he said. you watched him pull away and you turned to your house. you grabbed the forgotten mail and shifted through it. bills, spam mail, but one envelope stood out to you. it was addressed to you. from your old middle school crush, jay park. he was your last crush before sunghoon. you traced the handwriting on the front. kicking off your shoes you took off to your room.

you used a paper cutter to open the letter. inside it was written on some plain notebook paper. the handwriting was sort of messy but eligible.

dearest, y/n

i have to say i was surprised to get your letter. i wanted to say of course i remember the time at the park whenever you fell off the swing and i patched up your scraped knees. you were crying and i gave you a band-aid. your smile that day was one i couldn’t forget. i remember thinking how i only ever wanted to see you smile. of course that was then. i’m glad you sent this letter out. i’m not too sure i was supposed to ever read the words you wrote, but i’m thankful.

i hope this letter finds you well. i hope that someday soon our paths will cross again, and if needed i’ll always have a band-aid in my pocket.

yours, jay

holding the letter to your chest you fell backwards onto your bed. your eyes closed the memories of that day in the park flooded your head. then your eyes snapped open. you have to write him back. but what would you say? a million different things to say raced through your mind all at once.

when your alarm for work went off you were already up piles of crumpled paper next to you. letting out a sigh you got dressed and did a light make up. when she arrived sunghoon was already inside setting up for the day. “hey y/n.” he greeted with a smile. it made your heart flutter. “hi.” you grabbed your apron and joined him behind the counter.

“so i was wondering something.” he said. his voice was distant because he was in the back room. “yeah?” you asked. he came from the back holding pints of ice cream. you grabbed one placing it on the counter. “there’s this small bonfire tonight, i was wondering if you’d want to come?” he asked. you smiled. “i’d love too!” he nodded. “yeah uh cool, i’ll pick you up later.”

the shop was having a slow day so you worked the register and sunghoon handled the ice cream. you were writing a reply to jay on a napkin from the store.

dear jay,

i was so delighted to receive your letter. i was surprised you wrote back but i’m glad you reached out. it was nice to hear from you after all this time. i also wish that our paths cross again as it would be nice to see you. i have to say i miss seeing you everyday at school but i hope life is treating you well. until i see you again.

yours, y/n

sunghoon stood behind you glaring at your words on the napkin. his chest felt tight. some other guy had the courage to say what he couldn’t and you were replying. he clenched his fist and slammed down an ice cream container, causing you to jump and turn to him. you could practically feel his anger radiating off of him. you didn’t understand because he was just fine moments ago.

“sunghoon are you okay?” you asked. his jaw was clenched. “i’m fine.” came his short reply. you didn’t push the subject but the rest of the day was full of short replies and the cold shoulder. you hoped that whatever was bothering him stopped before later or it would be one awkward night. when you got home you showered and dressed casually. you didn’t want to over dress but you also wanted to put in some effort, since he’d be there. you really felt that his feelings toward you were improving, and well you still had a small crush on the boy.

once you were dressed and ready you waited, and waited and waited. after an hour it became clear that he wasn’t coming. you sat on your porch stairs trying to keep in tears. you should have known, but with how nice he’s been you were hoping he would show up anyway. with a heavy heart you went inside and locked the door. you cried yourself to sleep that night.

the next day you made it to work before sunghoon which was rare. he must of been out late. you sighed and began the prep to open the store. sunghoon came in about twenty minutes later. he looked tired and he didn’t say anything at first.”how was the bonfire?” you asked. he was quiet. “i wouldn’t know, i didn’t go.” he said. you faced him. “you could have said something.” he rolled his eyes. “it doesn’t matter y/n. let’s just get to work.”

during your break you sealed your reply to jay and addressed the envelope. you planned to mail it after work. you left the letter in your locker and returned to your spot behind the counter, relieving sunghoon for his break. sunghoon opened your locker by mistake and noticed the envelope. a frown took over his face and he grabbed the letter. he couldn’t help himself.

he changed the address so the letter would never reach the boy. sunghoon couldn’t stand the idea of you with someone that wasn’t him. if tampering your letter meant getting another chance with you then that’s what he’d do, and he did. sunghoon placed the letter back in your locker before joining you behind the counter.

after work you dropped the letter off at the post office before heading home. you were excited for jay to receive the letter. it was nice to talk to him again.

it had been a week since you mailed the letter, you had gotten nothing back from jay. at first you were a little upset but soon you forgot about even mailing it in the first place. it was a busy day at the shop but you and sunghoon had gotten used to it. you were cleaning up the counter when the bell above the door rang. you looked up and your jaw dropped. there he stood, jay park. your old middle school crush. his eyes scanned the room before they landed on you. he smiled and made his way over to you. “y/n.” he said. you stared at him. “jay, hi.” the name caught sunghoon’s attention. he stood back watching you.

“what, what are you doing here?” you asked. he smiled. “well when you never replied to my letter i decided to come see you, i went to your house and your mom said you’d be here.” you stared at him. never replied? impossible you spent so long thinking of what to say. “i did send you a letter back.” he shrugged. “must of been the wrong address, that’s okay i’m here now.” he smiled. you smiled back.

sunghoon cleared his throat effectively catching your attention. he had an unreadable look on his face. it was a cross between anger and some other emotion you couldn’t put your finger on. “uh jay this is sunghoon, sunghoon this is jay.” you said. “Hey.” jay said. all sunghoon did was nod his head. the bell rang with more customers. “look man we are busy if you could order something that would be nice if not then leave.” sunghoon said with venom in his tone.

jay stared back before putting his hands up. “i’m good man, just wanted to see an old friend.” he backed away. “well you’ve seen them now you can leave.” you’re eyes went wide. who did he think he was? “right, anyway see you y/n.” jay waved before leaving. sunghoon ignored your stare as he tended to the customers that walked in. he proceeded to act like nothing happened for the rest of the day.

when it was finally time to close, you decided it was time to confront him. “sunghoon what the hell was that earlier?” you asked. “he was holding up the line.” he replied. you let out a bitter laugh. “no that's not what i mean and you know it.” he sighed. “he was trying to get you back, i had to do something.” he said his eyes glued to his feet. “sunghoon what the hell are you talking about, i haven’t seen him since middle school.” he scoffed. “save it i seen the letter, i mean seriously?” he was pacing now.

“so what if i was sending letters to jay, you have no right to be angry right now.” you were getting angry now. how dare he after all he’s said. “i am angry, i’m jealous.” you furrowed your eyebrows. “jealous?” you asked. he tugged at his hair. “yes! i’m jealous because he had the courage to do what i couldn’t.” he snapped. you felt the tears well in your eyes. “and what was that?” you asked with a shaky voice. “to tell you how i feel about you. god y/n i like you so much.” you swear your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

“well you sure have a funny way of showing it.” you spat. “remember you said you don’t want to date me, you never will.” you threw his words back at him. the ones that played in the back of your mind each time you looked at him and felt your heart flutter. it was a painful reminder of that day he threw your letter and heart on the ground and crushed it. “y/n.” he started but you put your hand up.

“don’t sunghoon.” you couldn’t hear anything else. you gathered your bag and walked towards the door. his hand wrapped around your wrist. “y/n please let me explain.” his voice is now shaky. you stared at where he held you. “i was scared when i read your letter, no one has ever felt that way about me before, and my friend were laughing at me. i didn’t mean to hurt you but so many emotions were happening it once, so i took the cheap way out.”

you scoffed and shook off his hold. “now that’s pathetic.” you spit his words back at him once again before leaving. sunghoon tugged at his hair. he hated watching you walk away from him again crying. he hated hurting you, but that’s all he ever seemed to do. there was only one thing he could do. he grabbed a pen and paper.

my dearest, y/n

i’ve never really done this before. i didn’t really know how else to say this. everytime i open my mouth i always seem to hurt you. so i figured i’d give this a try. y/n i like you. i like whenever our fingers brushed against each other in class passing papers. i like when you always greet me with a smile even though i’ve been shitty to you. i like that you make me smile with your cute laugh. i like the way you dress, the way you are always you.

i hate what i said to you that day. truthfully your words scared me because no one has ever cared for me that way before. i hope that i didn’t ruin everything between us, and that it’s not to late, because if you’d let me i’d really like to take you on a date, and make you mine.

always yours, sunghoon

your tears fell onto the paper, your neighbor had dropped it off after it ended up in her mail. the mailman had the wrong address.it had been a few days since you been to the ice cream shop. you slipped on your shoes and ran there. the letter still in your grasp. sunghoon was locking the door when you ran up. he turned to see you out of breath with teary eyes. his eyes drifted to the letter in your hand. he was starting to think you got it but threw it out.

“y/n..” he began but you cut him off by placing your lips on his. sunghoon’s eyes were wide before they closed and he kissed you back. his arms gripped your hips and your arms wrapped around his neck. when you pulled away he chased your lips causing you to giggle and placed your forehead against his.

“does this mean i get to take you on that date?” he whispered. you smiled and nodded. “i’d like that more than anything.” he smiled and pulled you closer by your waist. he titled your chin up and placed his lips on yours. “p.s i still like you.” he smiled. “good, it would be one awkward date if you didn’t.” you laughed and followed him to his car. you weren’t expecting your summer to go this way but one thing was for sure, you were glad to get that letter, it gave you sunghoon.

-

author’s note! the long awaited second part. i hope you all enjoyed it :)

tag list! @jjunieworld @304files

© jjunberry

[stylesloveclub]

Prose (part 4)

In which Harry and y/n like going to used bookstores together and kissing (in secret).

+++

Harry’s coat is soaked, his curls matted to his forehead and his eyes squinting from how rainy it is. He barely had time to pack up his stuff, let alone grab his umbrella, before darting out of the Literature building. His boots splash loudly in the puddles, wetting the hems of his trousers as  he runs across the street.

“Y/n!” he calls out, his his chest rising and falling heavily. After two weeks of ditching his office hours and running away from him after lecture, he’s finally caught up with her, “come on, we need to talk.”

A quiet rumble of thunder shakes the air around them, and y/n reluctantly turns around. She’d been avoiding this conversation – didn’t want to be lectured by Harry about how bad of a decision it was and that it never should’ve happened. She knows that already, and she doesn’t need to hear it again from him. It would hurt even more, coming from the same lips that she’d been so excited to kiss. 

“What’s there to talk about,” she mumbles, her eyes downcast to the floor, watching the rain splatter against the pavement. Her hair is wet, drops of water dripping down her forehead, over the slope of her nose, and landing on her pretty lips. They get caught in the dip of her cupid's bow, and Harry watches painfully as she licks it away. 

It’s a painful experience, to have to remain so composed and put together, when he wants nothing more than to lean forward and kiss her again. His eyebrows are pinched, and his lips part as if he’s imagining what it’d be like to feel her lips between his again. He can’t help himself from staring down at her lips like a puppy yearning for a treat.

“We– we can’t just… ignore what happened,” he says, pushing his wet hair out of his face. He licks his lips nervously, and his fingers twitch at his side. 

“Yes we can,” she responds quickly. “Listen– I know it was a bad idea. You don’t have to like… lecture me about it. We can just move on."

“But– wait, no. I don’t want to just move on.” Harry blinks quickly, half because of the rain and half because he’s confused. 

“I’m not gonna tell anyone,” she says quietly, toeing at the ground and wishing it would open up and swallow her whole. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” She looks like she’s about to cry, and he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t lean forward and hug her the way he wants to, he can’t even rest a hand on her arm. He watches sadly as she just wraps her arms around herself, a pathetic cardigan wrapped around her frame – as if that would do anything to protect her from the rain. How could this girl be so smart when it comes to school, he thinks to himself, but so utterly stupid when it comes to rainy days. “Let me drive you home, and we can talk about it.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea–”

“Come on,” he pleads. “It’s pouring, and we’re both getting soaked. Just let me drive you. Please.” His eyes are wide, and his hands are lifted up halfway, resisting the urge to reach out to her.

Thunder crashes loudly again, and y/n gives a silent nod. She follows him quietly to his car.

+++

“Did you regret it?” Harry asks at a stoplight. 

Y/n shrugs quietly. Not really an answer, but she doesn’t have the heart to vocalize her feelings. Of course she doesn’t regret it– she’d had a crush on him since the very beginning of the semester. But she knows that he probably wishes it never happened. So a shrug suffices. 

He sighs heavily. Her reluctance to talk to him is eating away at him, and he doesn’t know how to handle the situation. “Well I don’t,” he announces loudly. “I think you’re pretty, and kind, and sweet – and I enjoyed kissing you.” He peaks over at her through the corner of his eye, but she shows no outright reaction to his declaration. She just stares down at her fingers, tangled in her lap.

Okay, well now he feels silly for saying all that. 

He turns back to face the road, and the two of them are suffocated in the silence. The rain patters against the roof of his car and the windshield wipers rhythmically clear the glass. Y/n watches a single raindrop’s path down her window, following as it slides down and collects all the other drops of water on its way. 

Then she asks quietly, “You aren’t worried about getting in trouble?”

His eyes flicker to her. “S’not as big of a deal as you think it is, bunny. S’not like I’m actually your professor. We’re both still students.”

She’s silent again. Harry pulls up in front of her apartment, but she hesitates to unbuckle her seatbelt. He looks at her quizzically.

“So it’s not against the rules?” she asks once more, nervously.

Harry shakes his head. “No school policies against it.”

Her voice is quiet. “...and you don’t regret it?”

“Not at all.”

Silence again. She sits in his passenger's seat thoughtfully. They are both still very much wet from the rain. 

“I’d invite you up–” she suddenly says. “But, I have a roommate. And, um… if anything else were to happen… I still wouldn’t want anyone to find out. Even if it’s not against the rules.” She turns, her eyes wide and glimmering hopefully. She’s suddenly filled with excitement and confidence.

Harry nods understandingly. “Nobody has to know.” 

She still doesn’t leave his car, staring at him. “So… if we were to do anything else, it’d have to be off campus. And not at my apartment.” 

Harry’s lips part, and he nods again, slower, “I see… so, if we wanted to do something else… we should probably go to my apartment instead…” 

Y/n only realizes how much she missed the dimple in Harry’s cheek when he smiles at her for the first time since that day in his office.

His tone is teasing, “And… if I wanted to kiss you… then I should probably wait until we get to my place?”

Her eyes sparkle, “exactly.”

+++

On the way to his apartment, he warns her that it may be messy, and he also warns her about his precious little cat (a pretty white haired kitty with piercing blue eyes named Princess, because that’s the name the shelter gave her and he didn’t have the heart to change it) who would probably be meowing at their feet as soon as they walk through the door. 

Y/n doesn’t have much time to look around his apartment and assess the messiness though. As soon as they get out of his car and into the elevator, she finds herself unable to stand more than three steps away from Harry. She follows closely behind him, grabs onto his firm bicep as he types in the code to his apartment. He turns to her with a smirk – it’s endearing how eager and affectionate she is, looking up at him with stars in her eyes. She’s got a look on her face, like a kid on her way to Disneyland for the first time – except Disneyland is actually just Harry’s bed, and the rides involve a lot less clothes than Splash Mountain. 

He tests the waters. He spends a few seconds staring in her eyes, reveling in the palpable tension between them, and then he flickers his gaze down to her pretty lips. He dances between her eyes and her lips for a bit, his hand still on the doorknob but too distracted by her to turn it all the way. Instead, he leans forward, his eyes fluttering shut and his lips pressing against hers. It’s so nice to kiss her again, it’s everything he could have ever wanted.

She’s ready for it this time, eager for his kiss and not caught off guard on the floor of his office. She leans up on her tippy toes immediately, puckering her lips against his and kissing that boyish smirk right off his face. Her hands hold onto his biceps, and slide up to his shoulders, and she tilts her chin upwards to kiss him properly. 

Harry lets his tongue slip out, sliding it between her soft lips and grazing it against hers, warm and slick in her mouth. It makes her breath catch in her throat – he’s just so hot, and his tongue is in her mouth right now, and it’s all just so perfect. Harry actually lets go of the doorknob, forgetting that they’re still in the middle of his hall, and turns his entire body towards her instead of just his head turned towards her. The hand that had been on the door makes its way to her hip, and he towers over her, leaning forward and backing her up against the wall right next to his door. It feels like he’s a foot taller than her when he’s kissing her like this, pressing her against the wall and sliding his fingers into her hair to manually tilt her head back. 

He bares her throat to himself and tilts her chin upwards, all so that he has easier access to her pretty little mouth. Sliding his tongue against hers erotically, nipping at her lip and squeezing her hip tightly. He’s so soft and gentle and romantic – but he’s also taken full control, leaving her at his mercy. He tilts her head whichever way he wants with his grip in her hair, scratching at her scalp so she’s weak in the knees. It makes her whimper and keel, her heart racing in her chest like an overexcited little bunny. 

Harry smiles into their kiss when she feels him pawing at her, her frigid fingers pressing against his firm abdomen and gripping the fabric of his shirt, still partially wet from the rain. If she’s getting handsy, he better open the door and get her into his bed. But he can’t bring himself to break their kiss – so with his eyes still shut and his lips still tangled with hers, he uses a hand to blindly twist the doorknob and push the door open. They stumble in uncoordinatedly, and y/n doesn’t even have the chance to see if Harry was lying about having a messy apartment. She’s just trying to kiss him as much as she can, get as close to him as physically possible. She’s forgotten about how uncomfortable her wet jeans are, or how cold her fingers are after spending so long in the pouring rain. All she wants is to get into Harry’s bed. 

He guides her towards his bedroom, and peeks a nervous eye open to make sure that his room isn’t a horrible, gross mess, a sigh of relief leaving him when he confirms that it’s in an acceptable state to show this pretty girl. He’s tugging off his coat and letting it plop wetly onto the floor and undoing the buttons of y/n’s cardigan, when his sweet little kitty finally makes an appearance. 

A simple quiet meow is all they hear, followed by the gentle scratch of her claws tugging and pulling on Harry’s trousers. Harry giggles, and pulls away from y/n to stare down at his cat, who’s sitting ever so politely at his feet with one paw raised to rest on his trouser. She’s the cutest little cock blocker and she’s also his little baby. “Hi princess,” he coos. 

Y/n, with swollen lips and bated breath, is honestly a little jealous of how this cat must get so much attention from Harry, and how sweetly he just bent down to pick her up. She wants Harry to do that with her – to coo at her and lift her up and press a kiss on her forehead. She then scolds herself for being jealous of a cat.

The kitty, all fluffy with hair as white as snow, gives a big yawn and a sudden shake of her head that makes her collar jingle prettily. Harry smiles. “Let me just go get her some food n’then she won’t bother us,” Harry says to y/n. The implications of not wanting to be bothered makes y/n’s heart flutter, and she nods eagerly with wide eyes. 

He runs back quickly, and shuts the door behind himself, so that even if Princess finishes her food, she won’t be able to wander in randomly. Then he’s pulling the cardigan off of her, throwing it on the floor, and unbuttoning her jeans, all while re-initiating their kiss. He walks them backwards slowly, until the backs of her legs meet his bed and she’s falling backwards with a soft laugh. He smiles into their kiss as he tugs her jeans off – a slight struggle considering that the denim is all wet and sticking to her thighs, but he just laughs with her at the awkwardness of having to peel off each other’s wet clothes. With her jeans also on the floor, she’s left in a basic and plain pair of light gray underwear, and the white baby tee that had been underneath her cardigan. Her shirt has ridden up, revealing her ribs and her soft stomach, and he wants to just lean down and kiss all over her body. Her thighs, her belly, her neck. He can see her pulse racing in her neck, and wants to rest his lips over her chest and feel her heart pounding right against his lips.

She pushes herself up on her elbows, her legs spread at the edge of the bed with Harry standing between them. He’s smirking down at her, taking his time as he undresses himself, making her ache. His hair that had been soaked in the rain has dried up a bit, his curls fluffier and messier than usual. It’s his natural hair, the curls that form when he’s straight out of the shower and hasn’t had the chance to style them with his curl cream. It’s endearing. His fingers, so thick and long and manly, are insanely slow as he finds the buckle of his belt and undoes it. The sound of the buckle clanking makes y/n swallow thickly, and the sight of him standing at the foot of the bed, towering over her with a belt in his hand is so arousing for some reason. Her eyes flutter, but she forces herself to keep her eyes open as he buttons his trousers and steps out of them smoothly. Neither of them are saying anything, despite there being so much they want to say to each other. They just take in the moment, take in each other. There’s a tattoo on Harry’s thigh that y/n never would have expected, a tiger that looks so intimidating and regal on him. His thighs are thick and strong – it’s head spinning to finally see him undressing in front of her when she’d accidentally done it in her head so many times in his office hours. It was never an intentional decision to sit in his office hours and imagine what it’d be like to see him undressed – to imagine what he’d look like if she ever got the chance to suck him off, or how he’d sound. But it always ended up happening… he was just too hot. 

His fingers now undo the buttons of his shirt, another white button up (his work uniform, apparently) that he slowly opens to reveal a broad chest, filled with tattoos. Y/n’s mouth drops open. Never in a million years did she expect her sweet, smart, and flirty TA to be covered in ink, a sleeve of black drawings lining his left arm and decorating his abs. It’s insane. He is so hot. Harry just smirks.

Her eyes are wide and she looks dumbstruck, mouth open as she just stares at him, her chest rising and falling heavily. She feels herself clenching, her eyes roaming all over his body… his chest and the swallows on his collarbones… the butterfly on top of his defined abdomen… the ferns on the hard lines that lead down into his briefs. Her eyes flicker up, and she flushes knowing that Harry’s been watching her drool over him for the past minute. She can’t be embarrassed about it though, and finds herself staring at the hem of his briefs… and then just a little lower at the bulge. Her mouth waters without her consent. His big hand cups the bulge and he squeezes himself. She nearly passes out. 

She sits up fully so that she’s no longer half lying on the couch, and instead she’s face to face with his cotton covered cock. Not even trying to be hot or sexy or minx-like, she looks up at him through her lashes, silently asking for permission. She’d never admit just how often the thought of sucking Harry off had crossed her mind. Sometimes when she was in his office hours, she’d zone out while he was talking to her and just stare at his big hands – dreaming about feeling them at the back of her head, pushing her down to get his cock further down her throat. And other times, in class, when Dr. Richmond was lecturing on and on about god knows what, she’d find herself staring at Harry, sitting politely in the corner of the room, his legs spread naturally. She’d feel so dirty in class, imagining what it’d be like to sit between those thighs, rest her cheek on his leg while pumping his cock, when he was doing nothing to prompt such sexual thoughts. All he’d do was sit there, and she’d be thinking about laving her tongue around his cock-head, tasting him as he’d cum down her throat. 

“Go on then,” Harry grunts, tucking a piece of y/n’s wet hair behind her ear. She’s eager, licking her lips like she’s about to have some dessert, her eyes glittering and darting all over his face. She tucks her fingers into the hem of his briefs and pulls them down, revealing the bottom half of the ferns and a dark tuft of hair. She pulls down further and further, exposing his shaft, and pulls some more until she frees the head and his cock comes bouncing out of its confines. It’s large and nearly smacks her in her face, and she’s like a confused little bunny staring at it swinging in front of her. He can’t help but smile down at her fondly, his hand cupping her jaw. “You want t’suck me off, bunny?”

She nods, hypnotized but unable to make a first move. She’s too intimidated by his size, and how he’s towering over her, speaking down to her with his low, raspy voice. She just stares up at him with wide eyes. 

He grabs a hold of himself, wrapping his fist around the base of his cock, and just the feeling of his own hand gets him twitching and leaking precum already. She’s the sweetest thing, looking up at him with those big eyes, nibbling at her lips nervously. He pumps himself a few times, spreading his slickness down his shaft and all over his head. She’ll be able to taste him all the way down, feel him coating her tongue and spurting down her throat. 

He guides the tip to her lips, muttering a soft, “open up.” She’s so eager and obedient, parting her lips without hesitation and even going so far as to stick her tongue out for him, the precious little thing. He’s grinning like the joker, dimple in his cheek at the erotic sight in front of him. Gripping himself, he taps his head against her tongue softly, and traces a circle with the tip of his cock around the flat of her tongue. He does this a few times, his own fist sliding his cockhead over her tongue, the rough texture of her tastebuds heavenly on his sensitive tip. He feels smooth and slick on her tongue, and she sits there like an angel, tongue out and staring up at him sweetly as he does whatever he pleases. His cockhead is ruddy and red, so incredibly sensitive to the touch, and he groans through his smirk. Do you know how attractive it is to see a man moaning with a smile on his face? Y/n feels her panties soaking, and worries that it might be seeping onto his bedsheets. 

It’s honestly been a while for Harry, since he’s hooked up with anyone. He hasn’t dated anyone in a while, and it’s hard to find someone that he trusts enough to be himself with. He wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to trace his cock on any random person’s tongue, wouldn’t be calling a stranger “bunny” or whispering for them to open wider so he can push himself further in. 

“Come on bunny, show me what you can do,” he murmurs, encouraging her to grab a hold of his cock herself. That little taste of him from when he traced himself over her tongue has made her insane – she’s addicted to how he tastes and wants him further in her mouth. With his encouragement, she circles her tongue around his head. Tentatively at first, but when he groans out and bucks closer to her, she starts swirling more and more eagerly. She’s drooling for him, her mouth filled with saliva and just watering for his taste. She’s breathing heavily and small little whines are leaving her chest as her tongue slides from his head down his shaft. God. It’s addictive. She wants to lick up and down his cock for ages, just feel him on her tastebuds, but she also wants to wrap her lips around him and feel his cock fill up her mouth, but then she also wants to just jerk him off with her hand while she sucks his pretty balls into her mouth and roams her tongue around each other – oh the options are all so enticing, she’s overwhelming herself. 

Spit is dripping down the side of her mouth from how drooly she is over him, and she stops licking up and down his shaft and all over his head for just a second to swallow thickly. And then she’s immediately back on his dick, this time closing her lips around his head and sliding herself down his length, feeling the underside of his shaft against her tongue and his head tickling the back part of her throat. She wants to take him further so badly, wants to feel him fill up her throat, make her throat bulge with his thickness, just suffocate on his length – but when she pushes herself forward she has a teensy little gag, and has to pull off to catch her breath. “Oh, bunny,” he groans, biting his lip, “fuck.” She looks up at him teary eyed, her lips slicked and her chin covered in her spit and the copious amount of cum he’s already leaked into her mouth. It’s a sight that he’ll be dreaming about for days, every single night with his fist wrapped around his cock before he goes to sleep or when he’s jerking off in the shower before going to class. She wraps her lips around his cock again and bobs up and down eagerly, pushing herself forward so that his cockhead reaches the back of her throat, and then pulling back quickly so that his cock almost falls out of her mouth. She does this over and over again, her  tongue still lick at him as much as she can, flickering her tongue at his pretty tip and trying to lap up as much cum as she can, steadily leaking out of his slit. He’s so yummy and hot and she just wants to taste him and swallow him and feel him filling her throat – she tries to deepthroat him again, but disappointingly fails again. He’s just too big for her. 

She pulls off with a cough, huffing upset. She looks up at him sadly and he hushes her, delicately tracing a finger on her face, “S’okay bunny,” ((her heart races and does a few backflips every time he calls her bunny)), “we’ll work on it.” And oh, she can’t wait for that. Can’t wait for him to train her throat, get her adjusted to his size so that he can push himself down, fuck her face and stuff himself down her throat until he’s spurting long streaks of white cum into her mouth. Or maybe she’d tell him to pull out just in time so that he could coat her face. Or maybe she’d make him wait until she got his cock inside of her hole and he could fuck into her and cum right inside of her, pressing his balls up to her ass so that he could get it as deep as humanly possible. 

If she can’t get him down her throat today though, then she makes up for it by wrapping her lips around his balls and stuffing her mouth full of them. Her tongue circles around them, tonguing at the spot right between the two, and she makes sure to give each one a bit of their own separate love as well – sucking their roundness into her mouth, feeling how full they are. All while tugging at his cock and looking up at his red face, his flushed neck and the veins bulging in them. 

“Sweetheart,” he cries out with a loud moan. His fingers ball up into fists at his sides and his abdomen is clenching and fluttering erratically, “gonna make me cum. Where d’you want it, hm?”

She pulls off of his balls with a loud pop. “In my mouth,” she whines, as if it’s obvious. She’s been lapping at his slit, suckling out the yummy precum so desperately – she wants it all now. 

Fondling his balls and sucking harshly at his tip, she pulls the final trigger. His hips thrust forward and he groans out, his hands tightening in her hair as long spurts of white cum shoot out of him, coating her tongue and trickling down her throat. Her mouth overflows, stuffed full of his cock without enough room for all the cum that he’s spurting out to fit – so it trickles down her chin instead. She takes it so well, swallowing it all and suckling at him gently until there’s nothing more for her to suck out, and his cock sits limply against her tongue, worn out and sucked dry. 

His chest is red and heaving, and he’s weak in the knees. His sweet little bunny, so quiet and gentle in class, was the dirtiest little minx he’s ever had. He saw stars when he came, his ears ringing and his vision going white. It was a trip to heaven. 

He’s gonna have fun with her, for sure. 

+++

The used bookstore that Harry and y/n walk into is a thirty minute drive from campus. The store is dimly lit, fairy lights lining the shelves and small tables filled with books from local authors between the rows of books. There’s a cafe next door where Harry and y/n each get a hot chocolate to warm their numb fingers (it’s raining outside, again), and the smell of roasted coffee beans lingers on their clothes and follows them into the book shop. 

It’s warm in the book store. Not as warm as the cafe, but still warm enough for y/n to shed her raincoat and for Harry to unwrap the big, fuzzy scarf that he’d tied around his neck. His oversized gray sweatshirt is lightly stained with raindrops, y/n having convinced him that they didn’t need an umbrella, that they could just race out of the car and into the bookstore and only get a little wet. Either that, or he’d have to carry around a wet umbrella all around the bookstore, which meant that he wouldn’t be able to hold her hand while they shopped. And that simply wouldn’t do. 

With her fingers laced with his, they walk around in the fiction aisle, saying nothing. Y/n’s eyes trail over the multitude of used books, the ones with the colorful covers and bubbly fonts standing out to her the most (it’s hard to not judge a book by its cover!). Harry sips quietly from his hot chocolate and stares at y/n every few seconds, before averting his eyes to the floor. Or to their joint hands. He suppresses a smile to himself. 

It’s hard for him to contain his excitement. Since they started their relationship, it’s all been very hush hush. The only time he ever gets to touch her is when they’re at his apartment. He’s not allowed to hold her hand when they’re walking around campus, not allowed to stare at her for too long in class, even though he wants nothing more than to just watch her read and write her notes. Sometimes on Friday nights, when campus is empty and everyone has gone home, she’ll close his windows and lock his office door and let him give her a few kisses in the privacy of his office – but other than that, no PDA. It’s too risky, too scary, she whispered to him the night that they made it official, under the shield of his comforter. She didn’t want to have any rumors or whispers circling around, even if their relationship wasn’t explicitly against the rules. He, of course, would do anything for her. 

He was good about it. Kept his eyes off of her, didn’t praise her too much in class, kept his hood up whenever he went to pick her up in the middle of the night. But he’s an affectionate kind of guy – he’s the kind of boyfriend who wants to wrap his arms around her when they’re standing in line at the coffee shop. He wants to put his hand on her thigh when he’s driving her home from school, send her off with a kiss everytime she leaves his office hours. So being able to come to a bookstore in another city, where they wouldn’t see any of her classmates, and hold her hand while she looks for books… it’s such a special thing for him.

Her hand is warm and soft, and she wears these delicate little rings that clank against his bigger, clunky rings. Her nails are painted a dark burgundy color (courtesy of him, who whipped out his stash of nail polish and painted her nails after she whined about her hands being too shaky to paint her nails herself), and he rubs his thumb over her painted fingers lovingly. 

She untangles their fingers to reach for a book, and Harry’s hand feels cold and lonely. He tries not to visibly pout, and stuffs his hand into his pocket to maybe recreate the feeling of being held by her hand … but it’s not the same. He takes a step forward so that his chest is pressed against her back, and rests his chin on her shoulder, looking over at the book in her hand. Y/n smiles to herself – her boyfriend is like a puppy that can’t go three seconds without being pet or loved on. She tilts her head towards him and gives him a little kiss on the cheek, right on the spot where a dimple forms three seconds after she kisses him. His nose wiggles as he slowly says, “I actually have that book, if you want to borrow it.”

“Oh, really?” she hums, putting the book back. “Was it any good?”

He nuzzles his face closer to hers so that their cheeks are touching, and he can feel the chub of her cheek as she smiles. “4.5 stars.” 

His hand not holding his hot chocolate finds her hip as she spins around to face him, and he stares down at her with stars in his eyes. His dimple softly pinches his cheek and his lips quirk up to one side in a lopsided smile. She looks soft and sweet and cozy, in a white long sleeved top, a lacy trim at her collar, and a bow pinning her hair back. A heart shaped pendant rests in the center of her chest, a gift from him, and her eyes are bright and wide as she stares back up at him. She puts a hand on his shoulder, and her fingers tangle in the back of his hair.

She giggles as Harry just stares down at her and says nothing. “What?” she laughs, not understanding why he’s looking at her like one of the stars in the sky.

“Just so pretty, bunny,” he murmurs quietly. He leans forward, his nose nudging against hers for a kiss. She struggles to kiss him back through her own smile, but her painted nails scratch at his scalp while his fingers dimple her hips. His lips are sweet like the hot chocolate he’d been drinking, and she wonders if she tastes just as yummy and chocolatey – or if he’s just licking into her mouth because of how lovey and affectionate he’s feeling today. Her back presses against the bookshelf and his hips press into her front subtly, but it’s not in an insanely horny way, and more of a desperate attempt to press his body as close to hers as possible. To feel her chest against her chest, and feel her stomach against his. 

He loves kissing her, loves her pretty lips and her pretty face, her warm cheeks and her soft eyes. He sucks and licks and nibbles on her lips with quiet hums, and pulls off only when her giggles get too strong and she’s not kissing him back anymore. “Stop laughing,” he huffs, skimming his lips against her jaw. 

She giggles some more. How can he just casually call her pretty and kiss her in between bookshelves and not expect her to burst into a fit of shy, love-struck giggles? It’s too much for her, and the only way she can rationally react when she’s so happy and giddy is to giggle it out! “Sorry,” she smiles bashfully, her giggles still prominent, though, as the stubble on his upper lip tickles her cheek. “More kisses, please.”

He can’t help but smile at how sweet and polite she is, asking for more kisses. He puckers her lips against hers again for a quick kiss and starts a path up her cheek and all over her face too, which just sends her into a fit of even more laughter. He huffs out a chuckle of his own, and shakes his head, checking around them to make sure that they’re still alone in this aisle of books. 

“Wanna go to the sci-fi section?” he whispers to her. (He’s a bit of a sci-fi nerd himself and has turned y/n onto a few of his favorites, so now they’re both sci-fi fans). 

“M’kay,” she hums, her fingers untangling from his hair and sliding down so that her hand hooks into his arms. “Maybe we can see if they have that Andy Weir book you were telling me about, and go read it together in the cafe? M’hot chocolate is almost done and I want a cheese danish.”

And nothing sounds better to Harry than that. 

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hope u guys looveddd it !!! such a fun story to write and i really loved this couple. thank u for reading and dont forget to send me an ask or rb so that i know u guys liked it and if u want blurbs and stuff!!!!

Prose Masterlist

[staarboyyy]

Paid in kind

cooper howard [ the ghoul ] x bounty!reader | no pronouns

explicit - minors dni

tags / warnings ; gunplay, breathplay, bondage, spitplay, hairpulling, oral [ m receiving ], throatfucking, wallfucking, creampie, accidental yearning, prolonged eye contact is sexy, switch!cooper is underrated, mentions of past sexual experiences, nondescript reader genitals, rad x as ghoul birth control

summary ; you've been running for weeks, but there's nowhere he won't find you.

word count ; 5.2k

a / n; inspired by the wonderful @ghoulsbounty and @ghoulbrain ! both are such lovely writers, i couldn't help but jump on this old man's bones !! (also as a texan i just had to put a fic out there using my southernisms)

The sun was achingly bright - That was the first thing you recalled. It beat down against the tattered and worn material of what you could manage for clothes, your eyes squinting as they couldn't resist to meet the sky. Everlasting, going as far as you could see - It brought strange comfort to have this one constant in this place, while also being a nice change from the large warehouse you took shelter in. Your feet moved slowly, the gravel against the soles of your shoes shifting with each step, eyes still pinned on the infinite blue stretching above your head forever. Instinctively, you knew being distracted, and taking time to enjoy the small things in this broken world, would be far less than short-lived. Though, taking in slow breaths of the thick air, clogged with the stench of the dirt below your feet and a dry breeze that stung your eyes; So much so, that you hardly noticed the hulking mutated mass moving towards you. It took in ragged breaths, crouched forward, wet tendrils obscuring its surging bloodshot eyes and split-cheeked jaw, messily hanging off the hinges. This action exposed rows of teeth, tattered and yellowed over the years roaming this land - As you whipped your head around, your hand moved with a practiced poise, already hovering over your weapon, itching with the need to draw against this thing that amassed itself towards you. An ear-shattering crack reverberated through the air before you could even finish bearing your teeth, white-knuckling your weapon. The blast was nasty, crushing through the reptile's large skull with an obscene squelch before falling forward to the hot ground with a thud. It lay in the seeping mess of what must be its blood, a dark pungent green, reeking of hot rubber - It stung your nose with a sharp sour tang, churning your stomach as you threw your hand over your mouth, staggering backward from both the sudden onslaught on your senses and the sudden shot tearing through the air.

"Well, well."

Your blood ran cold as the familiar gruff voice came a few yards past the bleeding mess in front of you, your eyes shuddering over the scene to meet the speaker with a widening gaze. He came from around the corner of the warehouse, that man - The one that insisted on shadowing your every move, no matter how far you ran. The soft breeze of the blazing day swept the tattered edges of his long coat, soft jingles following him as he took a few slow steps forward. He had lowered the gun level your face, gloved hands steady on the weapon as his eyes found yours. They were alive - Coherent, a sharp contrast to the little visible skin he showed, stretching scars bound over his cheeks and neck arching down and distorting the grassy texture of his tanned skin. Slowly, his thumb rose, letting it rest on the gun's hammer with a punctuating step.

"Looks like someone's not payin' attention."

You had been on the run for hours, and yet he cocked his head off to the side as his gaze raked over your hardening expression; It was all for nothing, the ghoul hardly affected by the travel you were desperate to turn into escape. Escape from the world that still tangled itself around your neck, pulling you across this wasteland with little, if any direction. Your heart slammed against your ribs, taking in a tentative breath of the nauseating air, keeping your eyes as far from the gurgling body of the reptile. You were hot, hungry, and most of all, exhausted of running. Maybe he knew that - Maybe that's why he chased you, knowing that one day, you would finally give up. The clicking of the hammer being drawn back pulled you from your thoughts, eyes moving to meet the barrel, then scrape back up to him.

"Why don't you just kill me?" It hurt to talk, your throat cut up and raw from breathing the thick radiated air - Still you couldn't shake the question as it pressed past your chapped lips, keeping your eyes pinned on the barrel. It was challenging, how you spoke to the shell of the man. Your eyebrows drew together, focusing past the smoking barrel of his shotgun with an insistent expression. At this, his eyebrow muscles shifted with a slightly suprised chuff.

"So you do speak." The Ghoul. You heard stories, making your way across the wasteland with little you could to make do, falling into bounty work, and getting caught up with bad people - The wrong people. The ones that talked about digging him up, that he would be able to take out the one target that seemingly ruled the wasteland. The Ghoul's voice scraped across the air, the breeze carrying the rough twang in his voice, the jingle of his spurs as he shifted his weight. You didn't care for the stories of your peers; And my, there were stories. Cooper Howard, movie star, face pasted across battered billboards. You also didn't care for the night three men you worked beside insisted on digging him up - But when you saw your face smeared across the radiated land, posters crumbled and pinned messily to boards and the inside of almost every building; You knew he was looking for you.

"I don't know what you want from me," You said in a rasp, unable to dwell on the near teasing tone in his rugged voice, not in this sweltering heat, not with the stifling smell of the creature between you and The Ghoul - The thing, the shell of a man, Cooper Howard; Or at least what was left of him.

"Well - Looks to me, I just saved your life," He mused, clearing the raggedness in his throat as his eyes lowered to your hand. How it twitched over your weapon, tattered gloves hiding bruises and scars. Cooper pushed his tongue to his cheek, head falling slightly to one side as he eyed your trigger-happy fingers strum at your holster teasingly; His mind pulsed with flashing images, the forking of how this awaited meeting would actually pan out. His tongue slid over the grit of his teeth with a slow hissed breath.

"Now, you plan on usin' that thing?"

A beat met you, breath hitching for a moment as he flicked his speculative gaze to return to yours - And just as you caught each other's eyes, your hand moved. Your fingers wrapped over the mangled handle of your pistol, fabric tied over the base for some steadying on your trembling hands; And as soon as you drew, the bullet fired, keeping his eyes on yours as you squeezed the trigger tight. The sound rocketed through the dusty air, his left shoulder falling backward with an unnatural shift, letting his weight fall off to the side as he grunted softly. His gloved hand reached his shoulder, rubbing at the hole now torn through his jacket, hissing through his teeth. You tried to move quickly, the exhaustion cementing you to the hot dirt of the wasteland as your boot heels scraped against the rubble, pushing yourself away from the other. However, it didn't matter now, not as his hand moved from his crooked shoulder to the coiled thick rope slung around his thick belt, wasting no time seeing your sudden urgency to escape.

"Not lettin' you get away again sugar." You nearly made it to your feet as you heard the chilling metal clinks of his spurs, panting as the sun that boiled overhead went dark; Cooper stood above you with a scowl, grasping the lasso now looped around his hands, clutching at the fraying rope with the assured intent to use it. "Now, you best put that toy of yours away. I need you alive." The sharp pull of the lasso whipped through the space between you, taking hold of your throat with a sudden drawn pressure of your quickly swallowing breath. Your hands rose, letting the pistol fall from your grasp as you white-knuckled the rope, now being pulled by it to your feet. Cooper sucked his teeth, tightening the knot with a gruff exhale as your cheeks flushed, blood rushing in your ears in crashing waves. It wasn't choking you per se - Though the pressure spun your head, staggering as he yanked you forward, invasive eyes now inspecting both your growing frantics and the expertly tied knot.

"From how I'm seein' it - I deserve a little kindness for not lettin' that thing tear you apart," You still managed to scoff, even as the rough frayed rope pressed tighter, threatening to take your breath completely.

"Just trading one monster for another," You spoke in a strained voice, eyebrows twitching together as you still tugged at the rope constricting your air, temples pulsing with hot sparks of pain. His lip twitched, eyes darkening and forcing the knot to slide tighter against your throat for just a moment. You choked, breath pulled entirely from your lungs before suddenly falling against the dirt to your knees, ragged coughs pushing between your lips, drinking down gasps of air with a gluttonous groan. Upon opening your eyes, you could make out his boots, and the sound of his soft snickering - He was entertained by it, the way you so quickly fell from challenging him to kneeling, saliva spilling from your lips onto your chin as you coughed on the radiated air, finally able to tear the constricting rope away from your bruised neck. Cooper let it go on, head tilting off to the side with a smug expression before one of his hands met the top of your head. The leather creaked as his fingers spread and tangled themselves in your hair, gripping the locks and yanking back, you had no choice but to rest your watering eyes on his, trying to control your desperate need for clean oxygen.

"You know how many people want'ya dead?" He looked down at you with a blank expression, his jaw shifting slightly as he kept a firm hold on your hair. "Now, I could sure as hell use the caps," Cooper went on, the muscles of his brow shifting as he sucked his teeth. Your mind raced with the many posters you remember seeing, pasted in nearly every store window in Filly - You didn't know the price they set for you, you just knew it was enough to keep your head low and stay far away from any wastelander that seemed a bit too keen on helping you.

"But, I could also see about being paid in kind."

The hot smell of aged leather clogged the wash of dusty oxygen you gasped down in shuddered breaths. He gripped your chin with his free hand, thumbing the pooling saliva glossing over your bottom lip. He looked perversely deep in thought, eyeing the glassy strings as he drew his thumb back, lips parting slightly with a dry chuckle.

"Well ain't you a sight." Cooper sighed the words in a lower tone, as if speaking to only himself. You bared your teeth, jerking your head off to the side with a grunt, the hot sting of his iron grip on your hair causing you to hiss. "Ah, ah. You cut that shit right now," Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders, glaring towards him with a determined expression.

"You've been tailing me for weeks, you know I don't have anything you want." You spoke through grit teeth, making an attempt to reason your way from his grip on your hair, at least long enough to get a better shot on him.

"We both know that ain't true." Silence befell your snarled lips, eyes twitching over changing his expression - It was somber. As close as his mangled face could manage, muscles clenching in his jaw as his eyes sought something distant and familiar. He looked as if he was trying to remember a dream, eyes searching for that connection. How long has it been since he touched another with no violent motive to do so, you wondered. Your eyes softened, a sigh making its way past your cracked lips. Cooper would never admit just how human you were, that familiarity of how your breathing wavered haunting him. The man would not admit many things, that this motive for caps had fallen away weeks ago, that he pictured what this meeting would look like for hours on end; Would you be terrified, fight back as any normal wastelander would? Would you wriggle free of his desperation for a broken connection, even if rooted in malice? Questions like this kept him from approaching you on those nights.

The nights he watched you from afar, making a fire for yourself as you glanced over your shoulder every moment you could, cooking the little amounts of meat you managed to harvest while on the run. He considered interrupting it all, a quiet shot through the night you wouldn't see coming, even going as far as to click back the barrel with an uncharacteristically shaking hand. Though he never did. Even as you slept, and as he held his gun with a ferocious intent to use it, he never even made himself known.

"I saw you." Cooper's grasp on your hair reflected those many nights, fingers twitching, his senses toying with the idea of allowing you to go on or stopping this entire conversation entirely. "I saw you so many times and just waited for the moment you would fucking do it. And you didn't. So please, just be a human for a second and," The man growled, throat rumbling with a charred snarl as he shoved you backward onto the dirt, releasing your hair and wiping the remaining saliva on his glove over his duster. You caught yourself with a grunt - What would it take then? The heel of your palms scrapped into the hot gravel, as you refused to back down. You deserved answers. "And tell me what you want!"

You shouted the last words - If he killed you, so be it. It would just proved to you how much he's lost of himself, the stories, the fuzzy black and white movies you'd heard endlessly about; That you were right the entire time, there was no legendary Ghoul, just a man in pieces reformed by the wasteland. He grimaced at your voice pitching up, hand hovering his holstered gun with an instinctive need to defend himself before glaring down at you.

"Don't look at me like that." He muttered as he watched you push yourself from the ground, grimacing at the throb in your wrists as you knelt with squared shoulders before him. Your lips shaped the words, throat vibrating with the hum of your voice, though they never came to be; What could you say? He wouldn't answer you, and looked at you with pain in his eyes - Your eyebrows twitched, pursing your lips to pacify the pressing questions that threatened to spill. With a slow movement, you lifted your hand, perching your fingers against the worn fabric and leather of his thick belt.

"How do you want me to look at you?" You asked, the question desperate, seeking any answers he would give you. His gaze darkened, head tilting forward to carefully watch your hand, the shadow of his hat cast over his face. A part of you knew he wouldn't answer. Maybe part of you didn't want him to, even as your other hand lifted to slide the coarse leather tail of his belt through the metal buckle, trying your hardest to ignore the holster just off to the left of his hip. As you drew it away, your eyes snuck a glance upwards to meet his eyes. It sent chills through your veins, the focus on his expression a twisted part monster and so painfully human, his brown eyes unable to settle on just one part of you. He hadn't been touched by someone like this in years - Far longer than he could ever explain, let alone remember. His heart stuttered in his chest, lips twitching as a shuddered breath escaped him.

"Like that," Cooper whispered. His voice - Alluring, a deep purr pillowed with a desire. The voice was nearly foreign, the canvas of the wasteland falling away just for a moment; He let himself fall back in time, eyes softening as the familiar pull of his pulse rushed through his veins, the gloved hand that shielded his holster falling away. The warm leather of his glove met your hand, guiding you to him even as his eyes refused to keep your gaze for too long. His grasp on you was soft, his breathing wavering as your palm met the base of his cock, the friction even through his pants eliciting a soft grunt.

Cooper Howard was never a man to beg, even before the wasteland. Though, as he tipped his head back slightly, the word shaped his lips, swallowing back the urge with a clenched jaw. Now was not the time to let his guard down - But your hands were just so goddamn warm. Moving on their own now, your fingers dancing with the rusted zipper and loose button, he pressed his tongue to his cheek, unable to shake the urge. He released your hand and with an animalistically watchful eye, spoke.

"Please." The desperate tone of his growl was not one of demand - It was the need to be touched without scorching ropes, without venomous words, to be human again, even if for just a moment. There it was, you thought. The man in the movies, you could see it in his pleading eyes, in the way his fingers now laced themselves with tremors. He knew better than to be distracted in the heat of the chase, yet in that silent moment, he was helpless. As your touch lingered on the zipper of his pants, a barely audible groan escaped his lips. The coy tug at his clothing was met with barely resisted impatience, his jaw clenching and eyes darting around, warily assessing the safety of your surroundings. With a final click, the last barrier between you and Cooper's now sparking need was removed, freeing him from this teasing torment of anticipation. His cock resembled the rest of his visible skin, scars arching down the stiff base, veins tracing the underside of his shaft, and aching tip beading with arousal; You had your fair share of dalliances across the wasteland, and so had he - Though not like this, your eyes widening slightly as you took in the size of him, how his eyes watched your every reaction. As your hand wrapped around the man's throbbing cock, rugged and needy, hot and pulsating, his breath hitched.

In that moment, you were as much a captor as he was the hunter. The Ghoul's muscles tensed, beads of sweat dewed against his temples; He bit his tongue, silencing the breathy gasps pushed from his lips. Each stroke of your hand along his shaft sent a shockwave of pleasure and agonizing need crashing through him, his lungs straining for breaths that seemed to evade him.

"Shit," Cooper seethed the word through grit teeth, escaping your locked gaze with half-lidded eyes. His cock responded to each one of your movements, his hips stuttering forward in an unpracticed motion as he ached for more. Your thumb breezed over the scabrous tip, gathering the beading arousal now sliding down his shaft with a shudder.

"Like this?" Your lips ghosted over the tip of his twitching cock, eyes heavy as they sought perilously to meet his, letting the hot weight of him press against the soft of your cheek. Hesitantly, his brown eyes found yours, flickering over the wasteland behind you and your tattered clothes, how they shaped the silhouette of your body. His were parted, taking in unsteady breaths with tense shoulders, anticipating your every motion. His eyes were inexplicably human; Perhaps, you thought, for just a moment you could fall into the very same fantasy that he did. That connection, that heat - You craved it just as much as he did. As your tongue pushed from between your lips, you could hear the pleased groan fall from his chest, shoulders rolling back as he yearned for the pleasure you held just over his head.

"Just like that." Cooper gave a slight dip of his chin, shadowing his eyes with the brim of his hat. You hummed at his confirmation, your tongue pressing to the underside of his throbbing cock, generous with your saliva as you slid your mouth to wrap over him entirely. He hissed a chain of curses under his breath, now refusing to move his gaze from yours as his hips eased forward. He wanted more, greedy upon getting the first taste of something so painfully familiar, that heat he craved, the slick warmth of your lips making their way lower around him. Your tongue worked in slow waves, drinking down the salt of his sweat and the sounds you pried from him with every deliberate movement of your head. The texture of his cock rolled over your tongue, the tip now prodding at the soft of your throat, your lips tightening to accommodate the size of him; At this, his hips jutted forward, eyes tightening closed for a brief moment, eyebrow muscles drawing together in a pained expression of impetuous pleasure. He pushed himself deeper, hips now rolling forward in a rhythm he craved, his fingertips tingling as your teeth grazed against the sensitive scarred skin of his cock. "Fuck baby, that's it," Cooper took a heady breath, lifting a hand to his lips and bearing his teeth with a hiss. He took hold of the tip of his glove, swiftly biting down and pulling the thick leather away from his large hand. Warm bare fingers, met your hair, tangling through it with a purr strung tight in the mans chest. You were so soft, hot to the touch, searing his dulled senses with an electric singe he swore he forgot long ago. Glassy saliva slid over your chin, spreading messily over your lips as you took him as far as your throat would allow, the size of him taking your breath. " Christ - Takin' a ghoul's cock down your throat like that," He followed his obscene growl with a shallow thrust, threatening to surpass the limits of your pillowy mouth and throat as he watched you silently struggle for air. He held himself deep inside, each twitch and spasm of your throat working breathy gasps and trembling groans from his shivering body. After a smug moment, he pulled your head away from his length, the sting of your scalp hitching your messy breathing, instinctively moving to wipe the back of your hand against your soaked lips.

Cooper caught your wrist with his still gloved as it rose, swallowing down the biting urge to continue his ravaging of your throat. Sweat traced his jagged features, the shadow of his hat shifting with the glinting sun overhead, his panting causing his broad shoulders to rise and fall. He found himself searching for the words, on the tip of his tongue he could swear it - How long had it been, since he's been run this desperate for someone? His cock tensing and twitching at the simple idea of someone bent over for him? He tugged you to your feet with a chuffed exhale, keeping a firm hold on your wrist to keep your gaze on his. He wouldn't let you go, not now, not as the hunger flamed in his veins, not as he pressed your stomach against the warehouse you once took shelter in. The man pried off his other glove, tossing it to the dirt below your feet. He wanted to feel you.

"Is this what you wanted?" You breathed raggedly, a chuff of an almost smug exhale ghosting past your lips as you rested your cheek against the rusted steel of the warehouse. His hands were invasive, hungry as the rough skin grabbed hold of your waistband, calluses and scars rubbing over your skin as he yanked your pants to your ankles. A glaze of sweat lit your body aflame, his rough palms groping your ass with a shameless groan. "Is this what you pictured those nights you watched me?"

Your words tugged a deep moan from his throat, his bare fingers making their way to your lips; He gathered the left over saliva from your chin, yet your tongue extended to wrap over his middle finger, coaxing him into your mouth with a tantalizing arch of your back. His cock was heavy against your ass, pulsating with a fierce need for release, fingers lathering over your tongue.

"You got a mouth on you, huh?" Cooper leaned down, his length glazed with your saliva sliding over you - He purred in your ear, the throaty bass of his voice stippleing goosebumps over the nape of your neck. He drew his soaked fingers from between your lips, moving to slide them messily against your hole. Your breathing hitched, thighs parting instinctually as his fingers prodded teasingly at your entrance.

Cooper thought of those nights briefly, gloved hand wrapped at the base of his cock as he watched you from afar, teeth crushing into his tongue to silence himself. Cumming to the sound of your voice, the images of you pulsating in his mind wading into his mind, positioned just like this. He chuckled darkly, the tip of his cock throbbing against your soaked entrance. "Arch that back baby - There you go, that's it," He spoke against the shell of your ear, the rough palm of his hand planted at the small of your back, pressing down gently to arch you to his satisfaction.

You don't remember saying his name, though you distinctly recalled the scrawled cursive of navy blue and yellow all over billboards and television screens; There was nowhere he wouldn't follow, there was no way to forget the taste of his name falling over your tongue as he pulled you tight against him, pushing inside you with little hesitation. You could feel him still for a moment, heart staggering in his chest as you cried out. You cried out for him.

"Cooper!"

The man snarled, the palm on your back clutching at your clothes as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of you. The moment your hips met his, he pulled away, then back again. He filled you ruthelessly, pulling your weight against his own just to draw back and fill you again; He clawed at your hips, your lower back, grabbing any of you he possibly could to be sure he'd keep you there. Your head swam with electricity, the slight burn of being stretched so suddenly easing into a head spinning heat, bundling itself tight in your abdomen. Each one of his thrusts stoking the roaring fire in your senses, beads of sweat pooling in the curves of your body as you moved in tandem with the Ghoul.

"Fuck - Sayin' my name all pretty like," He grunted, his head falling back as he pulled one of his hands back, cracking his rough palm against the soft of your ass. You yelped, body flinching at both the sting and the sudden sound, but that seemed to only rouse his hunger for you more. You gasped and arched into the rhythm of his thrusts, feeling the slickness of your saliva and his thickness meld together in a twisted symphony of desire. You pressed against the warehouse, white-knuckled as the pleasure and pain coursed through your body. Every slap echoed in your ears, each time intensifying the sensation, your body clenching around him as you begged for more.

"Cooper, please" You cried out once more, the words tumbling from your lips as if his name was the only thing you'd ever need to say. His hands were tight on your hips, a strangled moan escaping him as he took you. Your eyes fluttered shut, lost to the euphoria of it all. You could feel the walls of your entrance clenching and pulsing around him, the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. The Ghoul's rough hands explored your body as your hips began to meet his animalistic thrusts, matching the rhythm and urgency until you were both moving in perfect synchrony, a symbiosis of lust and need. You clawed at the warehouse wall, your legs trembling as your body inched closer and closer to the edge.

"Shit, I'm- I can't, I'm gonna," You knew it wouldn't be long, the coiled rope of need within you was about to snap. A low growl escaped his throat in response, the sound of it sending shivers down your spine, and you knew he was close as well. A hand gripped your hair, tugging gently, his other hand still wrapped over your hip as he drove into you with renewed fervor.

"Cum for me, baby," He moaned for you, a bated breath on his lips. And so you did, the world shattering around you in a wash of blinding pleasure, the shudder that wracked your body echoing the spasms of your core. You screamed his name once more, the sound guttural and raw, as you shattered into pieces, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. Each spasm of your inner muscles caused him to shudder, his own release close at hand. You could feel your knees shaking, his body accommodating your limp weight as he kept you close against him.

"Look at you, fucked so stupid you can't even stand, sugar?" Cooper spoke between grunts, his hands lined with tremors as he held onto you with a desperate gasp. "Shit baby," His eyes locked on your ass, watching how you threw your weight back against him with reckless abandon - He clenched his jaw tight, the fire in his mind and senses sparking aflame in a sharp thrust forward. His movements became messy, clinging to you and muttering obscenities, shuddering out gasps as the fire roared inside him. "This what'ya want huh? Get filled up rough by a man like me?" Cooper groaned at your responsive whimpers, tipping his chin forward in a slow nod, the fire crumbling into an explosion within mere seconds. He came with torn outcry, burying himself to the hilt inside you, watching your hips slowly milk all he was walling to give you.

For a long moment, you remained locked together, breaths coming in ragged pants, before he slowly pulled out of you, leaving you feeling both empty and full at the same time. You slumped forward, still clinging to the steel wall of the warehouse, feeling every nerve in your body tingling. The soft clatter of a glass bottle pulled you from the wading pleasure of your mind, eyes slowly opening to see a bottle of Rad X hit the heel of your shoe. You swore his hands were still on you, the heaving of his breaths still on your ear - Though as you turned, kneels wobbling slightly, he had disappeared into the sinking dusk of the wasteland. Your eyes circled the land around you, shoes crunching the gravel as you leaned your sweat glazed back against the warehouse.

"Fuck," You sighed the word through panted breaths, glancing down at the Rax X, and quickly doing a double take upon catching sight of something else. A leather glove, discarded in the sand and gravel. With a hesitant breath, you leaned down slightly, fingers hooking the glove into your grasp. You held the warm leather in your hand, turning it in your grasp fondly.

Surely he'd be back for this.

[enchantedlov3r]

Yes to daddy kink as Joel fucking dear reader clueless until he's successful into giving Ellie a sibling and he doesn't care how long it'll take. After all, we want to be his good girl, we want to give him our babies

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! that's exactly how I screamed when I saw this request. Beware, you may need a towel during your experience...mwah!

Can be found in my masterlist as: Bred and fed

joel was the man you simped for so badly. you weren't that old. mid 30's while joel was in his 50's.

ellie was young and she was like a daughter to you. she drifted towards you when joel and her made it to jackson.

you hung out at their house more often and you spent a lot of time with joel as well living the domestic life.

you started to crush on him. his texan accent, the way he carried himself and asserted dominance, the way he looked at you, his smile, his laugh, god- everything about him just made you gush.

especially those hot ass arms he had. he could choke you and throw you into a wall and you'd thank him and call him daddy.

you were always shy and innocent. you didn't learn what sex really was until you were about 20.

this disease infected apocalypse didn't turn you into a full bloodsheding killer but it did make you more reserved and cautious of your surroundings and the people around you.

what you failed to see was how intoxicated joel was by you. every single thought running through his brain was always you and ellie.

then he put pieces together. seeing you live this domestic life with him and ellie made him think.

what if he made you his and then fucked you until you were impregnated by him.

then he could finally give ellie a sibling to tell her stupid but silly jokes to. the more joel thought about it, the more he yearned and craved for you.

so, today he was finally going to have what was rightfully his. he walked into the kitchen after being in the bathroom to freshen up to see you already up and washing dishes.

you had slept over the night before and joel let you take his room while he slept in the guest room.

you liked the smell of his sheets, they smelled just like him. you were currently wearing one of his flanneled shirts buttoned up and some panties.

nothing more, nothing less. joel had given you some of his shorts but you chose panties instead.

his eyes widened when he quietly made his way to the kitchen to see your glorious figure standing there.

you looked like a goddess. how the sun shined on your face illuminating your skin tone. how you looked so happy and peaceful washing the few dishes in the skin from the night before.

"howdy." joel spoke out causing you to gasp and turn around. "jeez joel, you scared the crap outta me!" you exclaim.

"sorry ma'am, wasn't my intention." he responds, winking at you as you shyly smile at him.

"well how was your rest? good I hope?" you ask, a little guilty for taking his room.

"slept real good, what about you? I know my bed is real comfy." joel responds taking a few steps closer to you as he leans on the counter watching you was the remaining dishes.

"it was really comfy, thank you again joel! I am sorry to impose but I just like spending time with ellie, you know?" you express smiling at him as you put the last dish in the dishwasher.

"yea, and no need to apologize darling. you're always welcome and as a matter of fact, where is that kid?" joel addresses.

"oh, she left to go hang with dina and jesse but, I think she might be out longer cause she's going on patrol with jesse later." you answer his question while drying your hands and wiping down the counters.

"ah, ok. well, what are you doin' later hun?" he asks smiling down at you. your cheeks feel warmer and its not the heat.

you shy away and smile down at your feet. "I was planning on staying in your house a little longer if that's ok? just uhm-wanted to spend some time with you if you weren't too busy." you speak out with a small smile.

"mhmm. well I have an idea of some fun we can have." joel leans down closer to your ear. you gasp at the sudden closeness and the feeling of his breath fanning against your neck.

"what do you say to the idea of jogging your pretty ass up them stairs and laying on my bed for me ass up hmm? how's that sound babygirl?" joel whispered seductively in your ear. his texan accent going straight to your throbbing pussy.

you can't deny the idea nor the throbbing between your legs. joel really had a way with words and making you feel loads of butterflies dance in your tummy.

your eyes just couldn't meet his but, he grabs your chin and tilts your head upwards so your big cute doe eyes meets his. "I need a answer sweet pea." joel asks. you quickly nod at him and let out an 'mhm' and quickly scurry up the stairs.

he chuckles at your reaction before biting his lip and walking up the stairs after you.

when joel arrives in the room he sees your pretty ass up in the air and your glistening cunt. your arms stretched out in front of you while you whine out as the cool breeze hits your bare pussy.

"atta girl. your so good for me." joel says as he walks closer slapping your ass making you yelp out in surprise.

"you know, i've been thinkin baby, ellie's been needin' a sibling, and I wanna give 'er that. so why don't you let me breed you huh? give me a baby love?" joel asks unbuckling his belt and letting his pant's drop.

you whine and nod obediently. "words hun, I need words." he groans out as he runs his hard cock through your folds.

"mhm p-please put a baby in me joel, pretty please. I wanna give ellie a sibling."you cry out as he slowly slips his tip inside your aching wet hole.

"that's my good girl." joel says completely submerging himself inside you.

he groans in your ear when he has successfully inserted himself inside you. he wraps his strong bicep around your neck, you moan out at the feeling of his arm tightening around your throat.

your doe eyes going wide and your tongue hanging out as you moan joels name out loud.

joel lets you adjust and begins to thrust into you, grunting while he feels your tight walls squeeze his cock.

"fuck sweetheart, you squeezing me real good." joel groans as his thrusts pick up pace.

the whole bed is shaking and your screaming at this point, screaming in pleasure as the adrenaline courses through your veins and joels.

joel grunts and moans deeply in your ear as you egg him on with pleas of him giving you a baby. "come on joel, just give it to me. please."

"imma give it to you baby girl don't you worry your pretty little head. bambi." he groans into your ear.

you rub your arm towards your soaking pussy and rub your clit fast as you feel your high approaching, you just needed joel to take you to the edge.

"come on joel, make me cum, put a fucking baby in me pretty please!!!" you scream out as his cock hits your cervix.

"fuckfuckfuck! I'm gonna cum in this pretty pussy bambi. oh f-fuck!" joel groans out.

a couple more thrusts later and his seed is being spilled inside of you. nice and warm cum seeping into your stomach.

you moan as you cum with joel creaming around his cock as your high courses through you.

joel keeps his cock inside you just to make sure nothing seeps out, he wants to make sure that your chances of getting pregnant is high and accurate.

both of you heavily breathing, holding each other under the sheets with joels thick cock still inside you.

"gonna make sure nothing comes out. I want you full and pregnant with my kid." he whispers in your ear as he rubs your stomach.

Taglist: @raynesbandaids

[queenburd]

it's not going to let me rest until i write about it, so tonight I want to talk about the TSP2 Expo in Ultra Deluxe, and why it's a thing at all, and what it means about the Narrator, and how deeply self-conscious he is.

The Expo is, and I say this without exaggeration, the Narrator's deep, desperate need to respond to the audience and the reviews from the Skip button ending. They say he's not funny; he makes "a whole lot of gags". He's still reactionary, he makes all of this in response to (and in my mind, in the downtime during) the Skip button, and it's the first thing you can find right after the game resets from the Skip button.

He's not over it.

TSPUD in general is in a big way about the relationship between an artist and their audience. (i swear on my life i've written those words before...) it's about how a creator can and does create for themself but does, on a real level, yearn for an audience to understand and appreciate, while also being scared that people wont get it, and also being scared about "needing" a reaction to begin with.

Create for oneself, sure, but you still want people to like the thing you made. You want them to experience it, this thing you put so much time into. You want them to laugh at the jokes, that's why the jokes are there, and you hope they hit right.

Elements of that have always been in TSP but they're at the forefront of TSPUD and especially all the Expo stuff. Even while the Narrator, in Skip button rants, berates the audience for wanting jokes and gags and bits to distract them, he immediately wants to please. He's yearning to be understood, and he thinks if he can just give the people what they want, then surely they'll find the meaning in his work.

And then there's that darn Bucket. And while the Bucket feels like, at times, a stand-in for the Narrator or a way for him to project, it's easier for me to see him trying to frame Stanley's bond to the Bucket as a parallel to his bond to Stanley, instead of the other way around.

Stanley is the thing that is here in this world and story to comfort the Narrator. But Stanley is also the thing that can crush the Narrator's spirit.

In the Press Conference Ending, Stanley's bold new approach to story-telling gets him lauded, gets him praise. In the Bucket version, he tries to make the Bucket understand him through other people understanding him, and it fails. It scans as the Narrator desperately trying to reach out to Stanley, even as he tries to get adoration from an audience. Stanley only has eyes for the Bucket in the Apartment ending; in the end, the Narrator only has Stanley for company, and he on some level wants Stanley to appreciate him. He asks for feedback in the Games ending. And while nothing will ever really make him happy, there, he still asks.

In the end, Stanley's the only audience that really matters. He wants Stanley to like the things he makes.

"Why did I create Stanley? Was I lonely?"

He was. And the audience he's looking for isn't one he can interact with.

TSPUD is about a creator's relationship with an audience, hoping they will play the game, and like the game, and understand the game, so that they'll keep playing. And the game "ends" when the creator says "okay. I think I'm ready to try something new. for real this time!"

And then he gets pulled right back, because the audience response is just so uproarious. How can you move on from a thing that did, on some level, garner you success? Shouldn't you just stick with the thing that made you successful? But how do you make it better, when it felt like a complete work?

When do you get to move on? When do you make that choice? Will the audience understand? Will they follow you? Or do they just want more of the same?

The answer isn't simple.

[mandu-17]

Trust me, Baby | Cho Miyeon x fem! reader

Requested by: Anonynoums

Request: Hi! Could get an imagine where miyeon confesses to reader that she likes her(reader also does) and they end up sleeping together. But, the next day reader finds out she’s “dating someone”, (which is really just a publicity stunt) and accuses miyeon of using her. Basically smut/angst but with a happy ending.

Warnings: Language, drinking, phone smushing in anger

Genre: Smut, angst and fluff

Wordcount: ~ 3,324

A/N: IT’S OCTOBER 3RD

“I love this colour on you.” Miyeon murmured, one of her hands put a stray of your hair behind your ear, in the other one she held a glass of champagne.

Your heads were almost pressed together, as both of you were watching your new nails.

“Thank you.” Your smile being slightly uneasy because of the sudden proximity between you two.

The thing was that you weren’t uncomfortable, in fact you were yearning for more of Miyeon. The two of you had known each other for many years and that little crush you developed on her was slowly getting out of control.

Especially whenever it was only the two of you hanging out just like that night at her apartment when the living room was lit by purple LED lights and few candles. With her weekend finally off, Miyeon invited you for a fun, girly sleepover.

Unfortunately for you, three glasses of champagne later, Miyeon was already feeling slightly more playful and touchy, in your opinion bold even.

She did not see any problem with her knee touching yours all the time, it also seemed like there was no need for her to explain her fingers fidgeting with sleeves of your hoodie.

“It’s unbelievable how you can literally pull off anything.” Miyeon’s back rested against the couch, after she put her glass, half empty on the table. Her eyelids were moving slower and slower.

It was almost 2 AM - the time when all of her tiredness was making its’ way to acknowledgement.

“It’s just nail color, come on.” You shrugged trying your best not to show how her raspy voice was affecting you.

“But I meant everything, clothes, hair colors...” You bit your lip when Miyeon paused and tense silence filled the space between you. “I think even bald you’d still be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Her brown, Bambi eyes raised up to meet yours. Corners of her lips also raised coyly creating a soft yet charming smile. The rest of her face was serious, as if Miyeon really wanted you to hear her out.

“I-I can’t be the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. I mean you’re an idol yourself working with and seeing all these other beautiful idols everyday.” You shook your head with an amused smile.

“Y/N?”

You hummed with a raised eyebrow.

“For once, just shut up.” Her words came out quietly but also stern.

Your eyes widened in shock.

“Now you’re just being mean.” You scoffed, not used to Miyeon talking to you like that. Yes, it was in a playful manner, but the two of you were usually very sweet to each other.

“I’m serious when I say you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and I’m also serious when I say that anything you wear looks incredibly good on you. Y/N, I-” Miyeon stopped suddenly and before continuing she licked her lips. “I like you.”

“I like you too.” She frowned at your response.

“Not like that. I really do like you, Y/N. And you’re more than just a friend to me.” You could clearly see how hard Miyeon was trying not to reveal her nervousness. Her voice as well as her breathing was unsteady, brunette tried to busy her fingers with the hem of her gray hoodie this time. On the inside she was already shaking in regret - was it a good idea to let you know the truth?

It was easy to panic when she did not hear a single word back from you. The look on your face in that moment was also something she couldn’t really interpret. Yes, you looked shocked to your core with your mouth hanging slightly open, but was it a good kind of shock? Was there a chance that you reciprocated her feelings? What if there was no going back now and all these years of friendship had ended right then and there?

“I-I didn’t... It’s not-” Miyeon began apologizing when something cut her off. It was you or more specifically your lips brushing against hers.

And before she even knew it, Miyeon’s eyes fell closed, your kiss just felt incredibly natural.

You trembled slightly in her arms when her hand cupped your cheek gently. Once her sweet smell hit your nose you were about to explode, you were certain. The heat of Miyeon’s skin, her soft touches and those two hums she let out against your mouth were overwhelming.

“I-... You-” You pulled away, a breathless stuttering mess. “Do you actually like me? Is this really happening?”

Brunette giggled loudly, her response came as another kiss and a quickly muttered ‘yes’.

This time was way more passionate, Miyeon even pushed you against the couch and straddled hurriedly. Your eyebrows raised in surprise nevertheless you were far from complaining. Like a snake you let your arms sneak around brunette’s tiny waist, you pressed her body firmly against yours. Miyeon raised your chin with her finger so that she had the best access to your neck. At first, she was only pecking your skin there, but soon enough her actions turned less soft.

“Are you sure? I mean, isn’t it too fast?” You moaned suddenly feeling her teeth graze the column of your throat.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” Her deep voice was there again. You bit your lip hard in order to contain yourself. As she straightened her back, those Bambi eyes looked down at you. “Love me, Y/N.”

You intertwined your fingers and brought her hand up to you lips. That was your answer.

Miyeon smirked, in her head probably already imagining all the things the two of you were about to do. Then, when she tried to lean in you gripped her thighs before picking up her whole body with bedroom being your destination.

“I really have to start working out too.” Brunette gasped wrapping her arms around your neck. She loved staying so close to you, especially now while you were showing off, Miyeon couldn’t help but adore you even more. Seconds later, you gently put her on that huge bed and your lips met again.

Surprisingly, it was her who took your shirt off first, although hers joined your on the floor almost immediately. Her, who pushed you to lay down on a cotton pillow. Despite everything you did your best to stay gentle with your actions.

Also, you just really wanted to see Miyeon’s vision for your first night together.

And just like with anything else you could imagine - there was no way she’d let you down.

Her eager mouth made sure to mark as many spots on your skin as possible, Miyeon especially liked your reaction at her biting onto your collarbone. That deep moan you let out got her thighs squeezing, she could already feel how wet and desperate she was getting for you.

Refusing to wait any longer, Miyeon got rid of her pants making you follow quickly.

“There’s no going back now.” She whispered with her 40 degrees nose resting against yours.

“I don’t want to go back.” You answered while your hand was sneakily getting to the clip of her bra.

Miyeon sighed in relief once the last piece of clothing in your way fell down, she hid her face in your hair feeling way too hot, shy even, after you started playing with her boobs. You cherished each and every single whine that escaped her. And even though it was your first time seeing and touching her breasts you felt addicted already to the softness of her skin.

“Oh, Miyeon.” You whimpered when she sat down directly on your thigh and pressed down on it.

“Shit, Y/N.” Her wet folds created such an intense, pleasant feeling on your leg, you bit your lip harshly.

Just as Miyeon’s hips began to rock back and forth you expected her on focusing on chasing her own pleasure while riding your thigh, but that’s when she surprised you once again. Her long, slim fingers reached out to the wetness that arose in between your legs.

“Fuck-” Both of you panted, lost in your own intimate paradise.

With no warning, Miyeon pushed two digits into your dripping core causing you to mewl weakly. The way she curled them inside you made you wonder where she got that experience from.

“Baby, right there. Please don’t stop.” Brunette gripped your shoulder tightly with her right hand while her left one was knuckles deep in, fucking you.

You gripped her hips in order to guide her a little faster, make her press down a bit harder and finally to turn her into a moaning, sweaty mess that won’t be able to walk properly the next day.

Miyeon’s back arched unexpectedly when you flexed your thigh, she started shaking and soon after that her limit was reached. Bambi eyes rolled to the back of her head, as she came with a loud cry.

She never let her fingers rest though, through it all they kept on pumping in and out of you, it was becoming too much. The rhythm of her hips, breathy sounds she was making and all the sweat coating both of your bodies - you felt like passing out.

When your climax came, with teary eyes you kept on repeating Miyeon’s name like she was the only thing you’d ever gotten to touch, hear and see. In no time you felt overstimulated which made you push Miyeon’s hand away.

“S-sensitive.” You mumbled, still helping her ‘down’ from your leg and lay beside you.

Both your chests continued on raising and falling rapidly, when you felt her curious eyes on you. You turned your head to the right to take a long look at the most wonderful woman you’ve ever met.

Miyeon was already curled on her left side, her face illuminated only by the moonlight. She trapped your leg between hers, as she let herself stare at you endlessly. You didn’t even need her to say anything - Bambi eyes were your answers.

Only when her breathing returned to normal, her cheeks slowly regained their pale colour and you noticed her messy hair did you acknowledge what the two of you had actually done.

Shyly, you closed your eyes.

“Told you there’s no going back.”

With a hum, you nuzzled your face into her shoulder.

~

Grinning like an idiot, you walked into the kitchen with the intention of making coffee for your lover and you. It was around 9 AM and Miyeon was also up, already locked in the bathroom while brushing teeth and washing her face as every other morning.

You clicked on the coffee machine and watched brown liquor pouring down into the first one of two white mugs you’d had prepared. Your fingers mindlessly played with the zipper of Miyeon’s big hoodie that you borrowed. Once hers coffee was done, you switched the mugs and waited for another one to fill up. It was your phone beeping that pulled you out of that small coffee trance.

With no thought, you made your way over to the couch and looked for the device for a moment before eventually finding it behind a fluffy pillow. Miyeon and you didn’t have time to clean up the living room last night.

Your phone screen lit up because of your coworkers typing on the group chat. Uninterested, you muted the conversation - it was the weekend after all, you’d catch up with them later.

Once you were in the kitchen again with a comforting cup of hot coffee in your hand and your phone in the other one, you decided to scroll through social media while waiting for Miyeon to stop occupying the bathroom and finally let you know what she’d like for you to cook for breakfast.

That was when it’d popped up.

You dropped the mug, having to reread the article’s title at least two more times. They indeed included photos that showed Miyeon’s heart eyes.

(G)I-DLE’s Miyeon and SF9’s Hwiyoung spotted on a romantic night walk by the Han River! The couple of visuals look so in love!

Miyeon ran into the kitchen, panic present in her eyes as she heard glass breaking.

“Everything okay?” She gasped spotting sharp white pieces of the mug scattered on the floor.

“What is this?” You ignored her while nearly shoving your phone into her face.

Miyeon frowned before visibly paling once she got the look at what the issue was.

“Y/N, don’t... It-it’s not what it looks like, okay?” She stuttered.

“You know what that fucking looks like? You’re a cheater, Miyeon. You used me! Are you fucking kidding me right now?” In a sudden rush of anger you sent your phone to the ground.

“Y/N! Calm down-” Miyeon winced, trying to get a hold of your shoulders after hearing the second crack that morning.

“Don’t fucking touch me! You ruined everything. Y-You- Dammit, Miyeon! I can’t stand you. Just leave me alone!” There was nothing she could really do considering the state you were in. You weren’t thinking straight, clouded by jealousy and anger - Miyeon understood that it was no use for her to try and explain the situation to you. She let you go, gave the space you needed and promised herself that she’ll catch you and talk to you only after you cool off.

~

Without her by your side, you were cold.

Even that stupid hoodie bathed in Miyeon’s perfume didn’t help.

With no destination in mind, you walked around the nearest park wondering why on Earth did it have to be you? To finally touch the sky with your long time crush and then be harshly pushed down from one of the clouds.

That Hwiyoung.

His annoyingly perfect face was something you were unable to compare with even in your best make up look. And these stupid words that Miyeon told you last night, that had already engraved deeply into your brain and heart, that you were the prettiest.

How could she?

That was what hurt the most. How could Miyeon so simply flirt with you, her friend when her only goal was to use you. Maybe her and Hwiyoung had a fight and you were her second choice? Maybe she just wanted to forget about him for one short night? Maybe they just started dating and Miyeon thought that cheating at this point wouldn’t count? There were so many maybes, you felt like either throwing up or beating the shit out of someone.

Without her by your side, you felt lonely.

All these people in the park seemed so distant even though they were taking the same paths you were. You felt isolated in your own broken heart. There were no words to describe how furious at Miyeon you were and how at the same time you were already missing the feeling of her arms around you, keeping you safe. Until then, you’d never noticed how selfish she actually was. That’s how blinded you were by your feelings.

~

The next few days were blurry. After coming home from work you’d only lay down on the couch, barely eat and sleep a lot. Sleep was your true escape as even at work half of your coworkers were non stop talking about Korea’s new favorite Visual Couple.

Then on following Friday, almost a week after your argument with Miyeon, she showed up at your door. You were woken up from your nth nap by the sound of doorbell.

“We have to talk, Y/N.” Bambi eyes were determined to make things right, but in her voice you could hear a note of sadness.

You scanned her features for a moment before wordlessly letting her in by opening the door wider.

Just like anyone could imagine, it was painfully awkward at first. You were still half asleep and Miyeon didn’t know where to start.

“For you.” She pulled a single red rose from behind her back and handed it to you.

You only stared at her.

“I expected that one.” She nodded to herself and put the flower on your kitchen table.

“Just start already, Miyeon. I have better things to do.” With a roll of eyes you plopped down on the couch.

“That article you saw wasn’t true.” Her soft voice came from somewhere on your left.

“Everyone is now talking about you two. What do you mean it wasn’t true?” Your arms crossed on your chest.

“It’s just a PR move to attract more viewers. Hwiyoung and I play in a drama called Replay and our companies thought it’d be a good publicity stunt.” You looked at her blankly, after a moment of your eyes on her, Miyeon felt unsure. “Look, I don’t even have his number on my phone.”

She gave you the device and let you scroll through all the contacts. You even search up names like ‘Baby’, ‘Darling’ or ‘Honey’ but nothing came up. With a frown, you gave it back.

“Why didn’t you tell me then? We were catching up last weekend and what? You somehow forgot to mention your new fake boyfriend?”

“I-I had it in mind, but... When I tell you I can’t think straight when I see you I’m not lying. I got so into your stories that I wasn’t even viewing him as anything important. And especially after we kissed, I... I hadn’t thought of him until you showed me that article in the morning.” Miyeon gulped, looking down on her lap. “I’m incredibly sorry, Y/N. I was planning on telling you, but like I said even in the morning, I was just in such a good mood because of you that I wasn’t thinking about my job.”

“If you don’t have his number then...” You started carefully, “How do you meet up for the paparazzi to see?”

“Our companies contact each other. We’re just being dropped at a place, our managers tell us what we should do and what we should look like. That’s basically it. Hwiyoung and I usually talk about dance practices, studio recordings or shooting for our drama. It’s always only about job.” When Miyeon saw you still processing her words, she added “It’s you that I want to talk to about everything else. It’s you that I want to stare at until I fall asleep and it’s you that I want to wake up with. I’m crazily in love with you, Y/N.”

Brave Bambi eyes stayed on you the whole time. She was putting herself out there for you. Putting an end to your friendship as well.

“I’m in love with you too, Miyeon. I’ve been for so long, but gosh you have no idea how terrified I was when I saw that article.” After all this time you were able to finally breath again. As anxiety was slowly leaving your heart, it was roaring loudly in excitement.

“I have an idea. How about we never bring this up again, huh?” Miyeon asked while standing up from her seat and taking a seat on the couch right next to you.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Fondly, you watched her lean in, as your fingers intertwined on your lap. With a happy sigh you got to kiss her again. Frankly speaking, a big part of you was afraid that you’d never get a chance to do so.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Wait here.” Miyeon gave you a quick peck before storming off to her purse. She came back with both of her hands hidden behind her back. “I figured you might need it.”

She handed you a box with a new phone inside. Genuinely speechless you opened your mouth in shock. Such a sweetheart, your brunette knew damn well that you only had an old brick as a spare phone.

“Miyeon-” You began whining, knowing that it was way too much than what you could have asked for.

“Shh, you’ll thank me later.” She winked.

[pengujoon]

A SILENT WISH

cont. inumaki toge x reader, fluff. inumaki misses reader very very much. living together au, post high school timeline (?), intentional lowercase.

a/n. happy birthday my favourite boy. inumaki's my first fav from jjk even before i got deep into this so he holds a special place in my heart

you had been away overseas for work for what felt like an eternity, and inumaki hadn’t been able to hide his lowkey yearning for your return. it had been two long months, and his birthday was just around the corner. little did he know that gojo was behind a plan to surprise him, with you as the ultimate gift.

as inumaki’s birthday approached, you and gojo plotted in secret, arranging everything meticulously. when the day finally came, you were hidden away in the cozy little apartment you shared with inumaki. the excitement bubbled within you, knowing that your surprise was about to unfold.

the apartment was dimly lit, with a delicious cake resting on the table. inumaki’s eyes sparkled with anticipation as he prepared to blow out the candles. gojo, ever the instigator, leaned in and asked with a mischievous glint in his eye, “inumaki, what did you wish for?”

inumaki sighed, a tinge of sadness in his voice, and he closed his eyes to make a silent wish. but as he blew out the candles, he felt someone’s hands over his eyes, and he thought they were gojo’s hands.

he shook his head dejectedly, not expecting his wish to come true anytime soon.

then, the hands over inumaki’s eyes were suddenly removed, and he blinked in confusion. in front of him stood not only gojo but also panda and maki, all of them grinning as if they were in on a secret. but there was more. inumaki felt hands on his shoulders, and his heart raced. there should only be three people in the room, right? the three people were standing before him, so who…?

gojo and panda smiled knowingly, with a phone in gojo’s hand, and maki smiled too. inumaki’s confusion turned to curiosity.

then, in a soft whisper, you spoke into inumaki’s ear, “boo.”

inumaki whipped his head back so quickly it was a wonder it didn’t spin off. his eyes widened, disbelief and joy washing over his face in equal measure. there you were, standing before him, your smile radiant, and your eyes filled with warmth and love.

inumaki couldn’t contain himself any longer. he pulled you into a tight, almost crushing embrace. the world faded away, and for a moment, there was only the two of you. he carried you and spun you around, laughing like a child, his happiness radiating from him.

as he finally put you down, inumaki held you so tightly it was as if he never wanted to let go. his eyes shone with the light that had returned, and a tear of pure happiness escaped, glistening in the soft light of the room. he couldn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. his actions and the depth of his emotions said it all. you had given him the greatest birthday gift of all, and he was completely smitten, unable to contain his overflowing love for you.

“oh, there, there,” you whispered, gently running your fingers through his hair, savoring the feeling of his warmth and the silky texture of his hair. “i’m back.”

inumaki, with tearful eyes of happiness, looked into your eyes, his smile brighter than ever. his voice quivered as he whispered softly, “konbu konbu,” a phrase you understood as a tearful “welcome back!”

in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. it was just you and inumaki, wrapped in each other’s arms, a beautiful reunion that neither of you would ever forget.

oh to have someone this excited upon seeing me 😭