#there will be a Glasses On version in the coming weeks

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

Boyfriends

Based around the song Boyfriends by Harry Styles

Word count: 9,985

Content warning: fighting, cursing, mentions of alcohol and a lot of angst.

A little over two years ago

The concert was electric, every beat of the music reverberating through Y/N’s chest as she moved through the press pit with her camera. She’d already taken dozens of photos—Harry under the spotlight, interacting with the crowd, lost in the music but she knew her best work came from capturing the moments no one else saw.

As the final notes of the encore rang out, she noticed the security team starting to guide photographers toward the exit. Her mind raced. She couldn’t leave yet. Not when there was a chance to get the kind of candid shots that would set her portfolio apart from the rest of her competitors. 

She slung her camera strap tighter over her shoulder and approached one of the large security guards standing near the backstage entrance.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice steady despite her pounding heart. “I know I’m supposed to head out, but I’d really love to capture some candid shots of Harry as he comes off stage. It would tell such a story.”

The guard raised an eyebrow. “Not sure that’s allowed. Press isn’t usually permitted back there. Private.”

“Please,” Y/N insisted, her tone earnest. “I promise I won’t get in the way. Just a few quick shots, and I’ll be out of there. I promise.”

The guard hesitated, studying her for a long moment before sighing. “Fine. But if anyone asks, I didn’t see you.”

“Thank you!” she said, already slipping past him toward the backstage area.

She hurried down the dimly lit hallway, her sneakers squeaking faintly on the polished floor. The muffled roar of the crowd faded behind her, replaced by the sounds of crew members breaking down equipment and distant chatter. This is what she lived for. 

Just as she rounded a corner, the door to the stage swung open, and there he was towel slung over one shoulder, his face glowing with sweat and adrenaline. Y/N froze, momentarily stunned.

Harry’s eyes landed on her, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Well, aren’t you persistent? Must’ve made a pretty convincing case to the security team.” he said, his voice warm and teasing.

Y/N blinked, her grip tightening on her camera. “I just… I wanted to get some shots of you coming off stage. It’s where the magic happens, right?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his damp curls. “Magic, huh? I don’t know about that. Mostly sweat and bad jokes back here.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” she quipped, raising her camera slightly as if to ask for permission.

Harry tilted his head, his smile softening. “Go ahead, photographer. Show me what you’ve got.”

Y/N didn’t waste another second. 

A few weeks later 

The small Italian restaurant was tucked into a quiet corner of New York, dimly lit with candles flickering on each table. It was the kind of place where conversations were hushed, and the aroma of garlic and fresh bread filled the air. Y/N sat across from Harry, her hands wrapped around a glass of red wine, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest as he leaned back, effortlessly relaxed.

“So,” Harry began, a faint smirk on his lips. “I have to ask, do you always beg security guards to let you backstage, or was that just a one-time thing?”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks warming. “I wasn’t begging. I was persuading. There’s a difference and hey! It worked.”

“Right,” he said, drawing out the word playfully. “Well, whatever it was I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so determined to take pictures of me covered in sweat.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her amusement. “I was trying to capture the moment—the real you. Not the polished, on-stage version.”

Harry tilted his head, his gaze softening. “That’s what caught my attention, you know. I mean, I’ve had photographers at shows before, but you…  had this fire. Like you weren’t just there for the job, you cared about it.”

Y/N’s fingers traced the stem of her wine glass as she looked at him, surprised. “You noticed all that?”

“Of course,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You were practically sprinting down the hallway to get the shot. I remember thinking, ‘Who is this girl, and why is she running so fast?’”

She laughed, trying to play it cool. “It’s my job. I just wanted to do it well.”

Harry’s smile widened. “Well, you did. The way you didn’t hesitate to push for what you wanted. Most people don’t do that around me. I liked it.”

 Y/N raised an eyebrow, her confidence returning. “And what about you? Most people would’ve just walked past me, but you stopped. Why?”

He took a sip of his wine, considering her question. “Maybe I liked the challenge. You didn’t seem fazed by all the… ‘Harry Styles’ stuff. You were just yourself. It was refreshing.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, but she kept her tone light. “So, basically, you’re saying I charmed my way into your good graces?”

“Exactly,” Harry said with a grin. “And now, here we are. A photographer and her subject having pasta in a little New York restaurant. Life’s funny like that.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe,” he teased, his voice low. “But I’m glad you begged that security guard. Makes for a good story.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. 

Present day

The faint sound of an alarm broke the quiet of the early morning, its persistent buzz pulling Y/N from sleep. She groaned, rolling over and burying her face into the pillow, trying to block out the noise. At the foot of the bed, her chubby orange cat, Teddy, stretched lazily, his tail flicking in mild irritation at the disturbance.

The bed shifted slightly as Harry moved beside her. She peeked one eye open to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging on a pair of flare jeans. His hair was a tousled mess, and he was moving with the sluggishness of someone who hadn’t had enough coffee yet.

“Harry?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Where are you going?”

He glanced back at her, already reaching for a hoodie draped over the chair. “Studio,” he said simply, his tone casual.

Y/N sat up slightly, blinking at him in confusion. “The studio? But… we were supposed to go to the market today. Remember? We talked about it all week.”

Harry froze for a moment, his hand paused mid-reach for his phone on the nightstand. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, right. Sorry, love. Totally slipped my mind.”

She stared at him, the sting of his words sinking in. “You forgot?”

“It’s just been busy,” he said, his voice tinged with exasperation—not at her, but at himself. “You could still go, though. Pick up a few things for us?” He gave her a small smile, as if that would smooth things over.

Y/N frowned, leaning back against the headboard. “So, you want me to go alone? After we planned this together?”

“It’s not that I want you to,” he replied, clearly sensing her frustration. “I just can’t get out of the session. It’s important.”

Her chest tightened, the hurt creeping in despite her best efforts to brush it off. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Lately, the studio seemed to take priority over everything else.

“Right,” she said quietly, her tone laced with disappointment. “I’ll go. Don’t worry about it.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, and he stepped closer to her side of the bed. “Y/N, I’m not trying to upset you. I just need to get this done.”

She looked up at him, her expression guarded. “I know. I get it. You’re busy. It just… feels like you’re always too busy these days.”

His face softened, guilt flashing in his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond but seemed to think better of it, instead leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Y/N forced a small smile, watching as he grabbed his keys and slipped out of the room, the sound of the door clicking shut echoing in the quiet.

She let out a sigh, glancing at Teddy, who had barely stirred from his spot at the foot of the bed. “Looks like it’s just you and me today, buddy.”

Teddy let out a sleepy meow, as if in agreement, and Y/N pulled the covers closer, wondering how long she could keep pretending this didn’t bother her as much as it did.

After getting dressed and going solo to the market Y/N sat on the couch in their London apartment, absently scrolling through her phone. The soft hum of the city filtered through the windows, but inside, the space felt eerily quiet. Teddy, her ever-loyal orange cat, was curled up beside her, his rhythmic purring the only sound in the room.

For weeks now, it had been the same routine. Harry would wake up early, leaving the house before she’d even fully opened her eyes, and come home late, exhaustion etched across his features. He was always kind, always apologetic in his soft-spoken way, but the words “I’m sorry, love” were beginning to feel hollow.

It wasn’t that she didn’t understand. She did. Harry was driven, passionate about his music, and that was one of the things she loved most about him. But lately, his determination felt more like a wall between them than something to admire.

She let her phone drop onto the coffee table and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. Every time she tried to bring it up—how distant he seemed, how much she missed him—she felt silly, selfish even. His work was important, and she didn’t want to be the needy girlfriend who couldn’t handle his busy schedule.

But it hurt.

It hurt to feel like she was always the second priority, to have their plans constantly pushed aside for another recording session, another photoshoot, another promotional event. It hurt to go to bed alone and wake up to an empty side of the bed, save for Teddy’s occasional company.

She ran her hands through her hair, letting out a slow breath.

Y/N didn’t need grand gestures or romantic getaways. She didn’t need a fancy dinner or expensive gifts. She just wanted Harry—the Harry who used to stay up late talking with her about anything and everything, the Harry who’d pull her into his arms for a kiss in the middle of the kitchen, the Harry who used to make her feel like the center of his world.

But now? Now it felt like she was living with a ghost of him, someone who passed through their apartment in a blur of schedules and commitments.

Teddy shifted beside her, his big green eyes blinking up at her as if sensing her mood. She scratched behind his ears, her lips tugging into a faint smile.

“I don’t know, Ted,” she said softly. “How do you tell someone you love them, but you’re starting to hate how they make you feel?”

The cat let out a small chirp in response, and she let out a half-hearted laugh.

Y/N shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. But deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before everything boiled over. She could only hold it in for so long. She did what any girl would do and called her best friend for a girls night. 

Y/N paced back and forth in the kitchen, her phone pressed tightly to her ear. Teddy watched her from his spot on the counter, his tail flicking lazily as if he could feel the tension radiating from her.

“Addy, are you busy tonight?” Y/N asked, trying to keep her voice steady but failing miserably.

“Not particularly,” Addy replied, the faint clinking of dishes in the background suggesting she was doing something mundane. “Why? What’s up?”

“I need to rant,” Y/N said, letting out a heavy sigh. “Like, properly rant. Maybe cry a little. You free for a sleepover? I’ll bring wine.”

Addy didn’t hesitate. “Of course, babe. Get over here. I’ll grab the blankets and make a snack spread. You know I never say no to wine and a vent session.”

Y/N felt a small smile tug at her lips, a flicker of relief breaking through her frustration. “You’re a lifesaver, Addy. Seriously.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Addy said, her tone warm. “Now hurry up. We’ve got wine to drink and whining to do.”

Y/N laughed lightly, though her chest still felt heavy. “Be there soon.”

She hung up the call and turned to Teddy, who was now licking his paw as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Alright, buddy, you’re in charge while I’m gone,” she said, grabbing his food bowl and refilling it. Teddy let out a small meow of approval, hopping down to inspect his meal.

Y/N moved quickly, tossing a few essentials into an overnight bag: her favorite pajamas, a toothbrush, her phone charger. She grabbed the bottle of wine she’d been saving and gave Teddy one last scratch behind the ears before locking the door behind her.

The short walk to Addy’s flat was brisk and refreshing, the cold London air biting against her cheeks. She tried to let the walk clear her head, but her thoughts kept circling back to Harry, to the way things had been lately, to how exhausted she felt.

By the time she reached Addy’s building and knocked on the door, she was ready to collapse. Addy flung the door open, already in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, her face lighting up when she saw Y/N.

“There she is!” Addy exclaimed, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. “Come in, wine queen. We’ve got a couch, snacks, and a whole lot of ranting to do.”

Y/N laughed, the warmth of her best friend’s embrace melting away some of the weight she’d been carrying. “You have no idea how much I need this.”

“Trust me, I do,” Addy said, ushering her inside. “Now, start from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.”

As Y/N sank into the couch, wine glass in hand and Addy by her side, she felt a flicker of hope that maybe—just maybe—she could figure this out. But for now, she was grateful to have someone who would listen without judgment. Someone who just got it.

The first glass of wine went down smoothly, maybe too smoothly. Y/N poured herself another before Addy even finished her first, and by the time they’d gotten halfway through the second bottle, the conversation had turned raw and unfiltered.

Y/N leaned back into the couch, her cheeks flushed—not just from the wine, but from the surge of emotions she’d been bottling up for weeks. She swirled the last bit of wine in her glass and sighed.

“I don’t even know why I’m so upset anymore,” she said, her voice tight. “It’s not like it’s new. Harry’s been… distant. Detached. Nonchalant, even. Like, I could’ve told him I was leaving tonight, and I swear he wouldn’t have noticed.”

Addy frowned, pulling her knees up onto the couch. “Are you serious? He didn’t even ask where you were going?”

Y/N shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh. “Nope. He probably assumed I’d just be home when he got back—like always. That’s the thing, Addy. He doesn’t notice anything anymore. It’s like I’m… invisible to him.”

Addy’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Y/N, that’s not okay. You’re not a piece of furniture. You’re his girlfriend. He should be noticing you.”

Y/N stared at her glass, her voice quieter now. “We barely even talk anymore. It’s all ‘Sorry, love, the studio ran late,’ or ‘Can you handle this for me?’ It’s like I’m his roommate, not his partner. And the worst part?” She swallowed hard, her chest tightening. “We haven’t been… close. Like, at all. No hugs, no kisses, no… sex. It’s been weeks, Addy. I don’t even know if he wants me anymore.”

Addy’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was,” Y/N muttered, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “And I’ve tried, you know? I’ve dropped hints, I’ve made plans, I’ve even dressed up when he’s home just to get his attention. But it’s like he’s so caught up in everything else that I’m… I’m not even on his radar.”

Addy put her wine glass down and scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “Hey, listen to me. This isn’t about you. Harry is clearly drowning in his own world, and he’s taking you for granted. That’s on him—it’s just what boys do.”

Y/N leaned her head against Addy’s shoulder, her voice breaking. “I just miss him. I miss us. The way we used to be, you know? When we’d spend hours talking, when he’d grab me and kiss me just because. I miss feeling like I mattered to him.”

Addy tightened her hold, her voice firm. “You do matter, Y/N. He’s just too wrapped up in himself to see it right now. But you deserve better than this—better than feeling like you’re waiting around for scraps of his time.”

Y/N sniffed, her tears finally spilling over. “I don’t even know how to talk to him about it without feeling like I’m nagging. What if he’s just… over it? Over me?”

Addy pulled back slightly, looking Y/N in the eyes. “If he’s over it, then he’s a bloody idiot. But you need to talk to him, Y/N. You can’t keep holding all this in. It’s going to eat you alive.”

Y/N nodded slowly, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “You’re right. I just… I’m scared, Addy. What if I say something, and it doesn’t change anything?”

“Then you’ll know where you stand,” Addy said softly. “And you can decide what’s next. But no matter what, I’ve got you. Always.”

Y/N managed a small smile, her heart aching but lighter knowing she didn’t have to face this alone. For tonight, though, she let herself sink into the comfort of her best friend and another glass of wine, the weight of her worries just a little easier to bear.

The morning light filtered through the thin curtains in Addy’s living room, waking Y/N from a restless sleep. The pull-out couch wasn’t exactly luxurious, but after the wine and emotional exhaustion from the night before, she hadn’t cared.

She rubbed her eyes and reached for her phone on the coffee table, squinting at the screen. A notification from Harry stared back at her, and her heart sank as she opened the text.

Harry:

Would’ve been nice if you told me you weren’t coming home last night.

The words were short and clipped, and Y/N could almost feel the passive-aggressive undertone seeping through. She stared at the screen for a moment, a mix of guilt and frustration bubbling up in her chest.

“Seriously?” she muttered under her breath, sitting up and running a hand through her hair.

Teddy’s bowl had been full, the apartment was clean, and it wasn’t like she had disappeared without a trace. But still, Harry managed to make her feel like she was the one in the wrong.

She typed out a response, her fingers hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

Y/N:

I stayed at Addy’s. I forgot to let you know. Sorry.

She tossed the phone onto the cushion beside her and let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the couch. Her chest tightened with the familiar ache that had been building for weeks.

“Everything okay?” Addy’s voice came from the kitchen. She appeared moments later, a mug of coffee in hand, still in her pajamas.

Y/N looked up and gave her a weak smile. “Harry texted me. He’s annoyed I didn’t tell him I wasn’t coming home.”

Addy raised an eyebrow as she handed Y/N the coffee. “He’s annoyed? The same Harry who’s been barely speaking to you and blowing off plans left and right?”

Y/N shrugged, wrapping her hands around the warm mug. “Yeah, that Harry.”

Addy flopped onto the armchair across from her. “Honestly, I don’t know whether to laugh or scream. He has no right to guilt-trip you after how he’s been acting. He sure knows how to get under your skin.”

Y/N sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. “I don’t think he meant to guilt-trip me. It’s just… I don’t know, Addy. Everything feels so off between us. Even little things like this turn into a thing.”

“Because he’s not giving you what you need,” Addy said bluntly. “You wouldn’t feel this way if he was showing up for you. Instead, he’s putting all this effort into everything else and leaving you with scraps. It’s not fair, Y/N.”

Y/N bit her lip, staring down at the coffee in her hands. “I know it’s not fair. But I still love him, Addy. I just… don’t know how to fix this.”

Addy leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You shouldn’t have to fix this alone, babe. He’s your partner. He should be just as invested in making things work. If he’s not, that’s on him, not you.”

Y/N nodded, but the knot in her stomach didn’t ease. She glanced at her phone again, tempted to say more, but decided against it. Instead she got herself together and said goodbye to Addy before making the short trip back to her home. 

Y/N unlocked the door to her apartment, still groggy and in her pajamas, her head pounding from last night’s wine. She stepped inside and was greeted by Teddy, who meowed loudly as if scolding her for being gone.

“Morning, Teddy,” she muttered, bending down to scratch his head before kicking off her shoes.

When she looked up, she froze. Harry was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, his phone in his hand. It was rare to see him home at this hour, and for a moment, she was too surprised to say anything.

He glanced up at her, his expression unreadable. “Nice of you to finally come home,” he said, his voice calm but with a cutting edge. “I thought maybe we could’ve done something today, but you were gone and by the looks of it, hungover.”

Y/N blinked at him, her exhaustion giving way to irritation. “Are you serious right now?”

Harry leaned back into the couch, raising an eyebrow. “What? I’m just saying, it would’ve been nice to know where you were.”

Her frustration boiled over, the tension that had been building for weeks finally snapping. “Oh, you mean like all the times we made plans, and you bailed on me? Is that what you’re talking about, Harry? Because if we’re keeping track, you’ve canceled on me more times than I can count.”

Harry rolled his eyes, his tone dismissive. “Here we go again.”

“No, seriously,” Y/N said, her voice rising. “Do you have any idea how it feels to be constantly put second? To have you forget about us because you’re busy with your career? And then you have the nerve to act like I’m the one in the wrong because I stayed at Addy’s for one night?”

Harry set his phone down, looking at her with a mix of annoyance and exasperation. “I don’t have time for this right now. You’re blowing things out of proportion. I’m working hard and you’re acting selfish.”

Y/N stared at him, her mouth falling open. “Selfish? Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been here, Harry. I picked up my life and moved here. To be with you. To be close to you. I am here waiting for you, supporting you, picking up the pieces of this relationship while you put me on the back burner. And now I’m selfish because I’m upset that you don’t seem to care anymore?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “I never said I didn’t care. But I can’t drop everything just to make you happy. I have obligations, Y/N. I thought you understood that.”

“I do understand,” she snapped, her voice trembling. “But what about your obligation to me? Or does that not matter anymore?”

The room fell silent, her words hanging in the air like a challenge. Harry looked at her, his expression softening just slightly, as if he hadn’t realized how deep the cracks had gotten.

Y/N swallowed hard, her voice quieter now. “I’m not asking you to drop everything, Harry. I’m asking you to show me that I matter to you. That we matter, even if it’s only for a few hours.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, the weight of her words settling over him. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t have a quick answer, and that silence spoke louder than anything he could’ve said.

With that, she turned and walked toward the bedroom, leaving Harry sitting on the couch. 

Y/N scooped Teddy up on her way to the bedroom, the orange fluffball letting out a small chirp of protest before settling into her arms. She pressed her face into his fur, taking comfort in his warmth as she turned back to look at Harry, still sitting on the couch.

“Well,” she said bitterly, her voice carrying just enough to make her point, “at least Teddy will spend time with me.”

Harry didn’t respond, his face unreadable as she turned away and headed down the hallway. She pushed open the bedroom door, setting Teddy down gently on the bed. He immediately curled up in his usual spot, his tail flicking as Y/N climbed in beside him.

Pulling the blankets around her, she stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts swirling. The fight had drained her, but her mind wouldn’t stop replaying everything—Harry’s dismissive tone, the way he had rolled his eyes at her, the frustration and sadness that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her chest.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to think of something better, something good. Slowly, her thoughts drifted to the earlier days of their relationship, when everything felt effortless and magical.

Like the time Harry had surprised her with a trip to Disneyland Paris.

She smiled faintly at the memory, her heart aching with nostalgia. It had been just over a year into their relationship, and she’d mentioned in passing one night how she’d always dreamed of going but never had the chance. She hadn’t thought much of it—just another drowsy late-night conversation between them—but Harry had clearly been paying attention.

He’d woken her up early one morning, a mischievous grin on his face. “Pack a bag,” he’d said, barely able to contain his excitement. “We’re going on an adventure.”

She’d laughed, confused but thrilled as he refused to give her any details. It wasn’t until they were at the airport, with two tickets to Paris in his hand, that she realized what he had planned.

“You didn’t,” she had whispered, staring at him in disbelief.

“I did,” he’d replied, his grin widening. “What’s the point of dreaming if you don’t make it happen?”

The trip had been everything she’d hoped for and more. They’d spent the days running from ride to ride, indulging in too many churros, and taking pictures in front of the castle. He’d bought her a pair of Minnie Mouse ears, which she’d worn the entire time despite teasing him for wearing his matching Mickey ears.

And at night, under the glow of the fireworks, he’d wrapped his arms around her and kissed her like they were the only two people in the world.

It was one of the most thoughtful, romantic things anyone had ever done for her, and it had cemented her belief that Harry was someone special—someone who truly saw her.

Now, lying in bed, those memories felt like they belonged to a different time, a different version of them. She glanced down at Teddy, who had dozed off at her side, his soft purring filling the silence.

“How did we get here, Ted?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Teddy didn’t respond, of course, but his presence was steady, a small comfort in the midst of her swirling emotions.

She rolled onto her side, clutching a pillow to her chest as tears silently slipped down her cheeks. She missed the Harry from those days—the one who surprised her with trips, who laughed with her over burnt pancakes, who made her feel like the center of his world.

Y/N stirred slightly when she heard the quiet creak of the bedroom door opening. She kept her eyes closed, her breathing steady, even as she felt the bed shift under Harry’s weight. He laid down beside her, the mattress dipping slightly as he settled in.

The faint scent of alcohol hit her almost immediately, making her chest tighten. Her eyes opened just a fraction, though she remained on her side, facing away from him. Had he been drinking?

Her heart sank further. Of course, he had every right to do what he wanted—he was an adult, after all. And after the way she’d walked home hungover this morning, she didn’t exactly have the moral high ground to say anything about it.

But still.

The thought of him out, drinking alone or with people who weren’t her, only deepened the ache that had been gnawing at her all day. It wasn’t about the drinking itself—it was about the growing distance between them, the choices they both seemed to be making that pushed them further apart.

She lay there in silence, staring at the faint shadows dancing across the wall. Part of her wanted to roll over, to ask him where he’d been or why he smelled like tequila. But another part of her—the tired, frustrated, heartbroken part—couldn’t muster the energy for another confrontation.

Instead, she stayed still, her hand resting gently on Teddy’s fur as he purred softly in his sleep. She could feel Harry’s presence beside her, close enough to touch, yet it felt like there was an ocean between them.

After a moment, she heard him exhale deeply, the bed shifting slightly as he adjusted his position. She wondered if he was awake, if he was thinking about the fight they’d had earlier, if he even realized how much she missed him.

But no words came. The silence stretched between them, heavy and unyielding.

The next morning, Y/N forced herself out of bed despite the heaviness that still lingered from the night before. Teddy trailed behind her as she shuffled around the apartment, gathering her gear for the day’s photo shoots. She threw on a comfortable outfit, pulled her hair into a loose bun, and grabbed her camera bag, trying to shake off the lingering ache in her chest.

Photography had always been her escape. It didn’t matter if she was capturing sweaty concerts or snapping portraits of families; behind the lens, she felt purposeful. Grounded.

The day passed quickly as she moved between locations, her subjects ranging from a young couple celebrating an anniversary to a family of five with a rambunctious toddler. She smiled, laughed, and gave her all to each session, momentarily forgetting the tension waiting for her at home.

When the shoots were done, she wandered the streets of London, her camera still slung over her shoulder. The city was alive with people, the winter air crisp as she strolled past cafés and flower shops. She pretended to savor her independence, stopping to snap a few shots of the bustling streets, but the nagging loneliness in her chest was impossible to ignore.

By the time she returned home, the sun had set, and the apartment was dark and quiet. She dropped her bag by the door, kicking off her shoes as Teddy padded over to greet her.

“Hey, buddy,” she murmured, scooping him up for a quick cuddle. The silence in the apartment felt heavier than usual, and she sighed as she put him down and reached for her phone.

She typed out a quick text to Harry:

Y/N:

Hey, are you going to be home for dinner? I was thinking of ordering Chinese.

She stared at the screen for a moment, willing the typing bubble to appear. But it didn’t. After a few minutes, she gave up and placed the order anyway, opting for her usual dishes.

By the time the food arrived, Harry still hadn’t responded. She ate quietly at the table, Teddy perched on a nearby chair, his curious gaze following every bite.

It wasn’t until later that night that she heard the front door open. Harry walked in, his jacket slung over one arm and his keys jangling in his hand. She turned to look at him from the couch, immediately catching the faint scent of alcohol.

“Hey,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice even. “I texted you earlier. I was going to order Chinese. Thought maybe we could eat together.”

Harry glanced at her, his expression neutral. “I was with the band,” he said, his tone casual as he set his keys on the counter.

Her chest tightened. “I would’ve liked to come out with you,” she said, standing up and crossing her arms. “It’s been ages since we’ve done something together, Harry.”

He looked at her, an edge of defensiveness in his eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal, Y/N. Just me and the guys. You wouldn’t have wanted to sit around and listen to us talk about music all night.”

Her frustration bubbled to the surface. “You don’t know that! You didn’t even ask. I would’ve loved to just… be there with you. Spend time with you.”

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not like I’m trying to exclude you. I just—”

“You just don’t think about me anymore,” she interrupted, her voice quieter now but no less hurt. “Do you even realize how lonely it’s been, Harry? You come home late, you barely talk to me, and now you’re out drinking with the band while I’m here eating takeout by myself.”

He stared at her, his jaw tightening. “I’m doing the best I can, Y/N. You think this is easy for me?”

“No, Harry, I don’t think it’s easy,” she shot back. “But it’s not supposed to be just you. It’s supposed to be us. And lately, it feels like I’m the only one trying to hold onto that.”

The silence that followed was deafening. He looked away, his lips pressed into a thin line, and she felt the familiar ache in her chest grow heavier.

Without another word, she turned and headed toward the bedroom as she had been night after night, and of course with Teddy trailing behind her. 

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands, trying to steady the rush of emotions building inside her. Teddy rubbed against her legs, offering silent comfort, but her chest still felt impossibly heavy. She heard Harry’s footsteps approaching and tensed, unsure if she had the energy for yet another argument.

When the door opened, she glanced up to see him standing in the doorway, his hand gripping the frame. For a moment, she thought he might apologize—finally acknowledge the hurt he’d been causing her.

But instead, his tone was sharp. “You’re always making this about you, Y/N. Do you ever stop to think about the pressure I’m under? Or is it just easier to sit here and point fingers or bitch at me?”

Her jaw dropped, the sting of his words hitting harder than she expected. “Are you serious right now?” she asked, her voice trembling with both anger and disbelief. “Did you come in here just to insult me?”

Harry’s expression shifted, the fire in his eyes dimming as her words seemed to sink in. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair. “No,” he said quietly, his voice faltering. “That’s not… I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But you said it,” she replied, her tone cold as she stood and faced him. “If you’re under so much pressure, why don’t you talk to me about it instead of shutting me out and turning to alcohol? Why am I the one who has to sit here, waiting, wondering if you even care anymore?”

Harry looked at her, guilt flashing across his face, but he didn’t have an answer. His silence spoke volumes.

Y/N nodded slowly, her mind made up in that moment. She couldn’t keep living like this, caught in the limbo of his neglect and her own heartache. “You know what? I think I need some space. I think weneed some space.”

His brows furrowed, his lips parting as if to argue, but she cut him off.

“I’m going to fly home and spend some time with my family,” she said, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. “You need to figure out what you really want, Harry. Because this—” she gestured between them—“this isn’t working. And it’s not just on me to fix it.”

Harry hesitated, his expression torn. “You don’t have to—”

“No,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “I do. And you need to do some real soul searching while I’m gone. Drinking in secret, shutting me out… that’s not going to help you or our failing relationship. You can’t keep running from whatever it is that’s eating away at you.”

He didn’t protest, didn’t argue. Instead, he simply nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor.

The lack of resistance stung more than she cared to admit, but it also solidified her decision. If he wasn’t willing to fight for them, she couldn’t keep fighting alone.

Y/N took a deep breath, stepping past him and grabbing her suitcase from the closet. As she started packing, she felt a strange mix of sadness and relief.

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a knot in her stomach. The decision she had made the night before still felt right, but that didn’t make it any easier. She moved through the motions quietly, packing her suitcase and making sure Teddy had enough room in his carrier. The orange fluffball meowed pitifully as she zipped him inside, his big eyes watching her with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“I know, buddy,” she said softly, rubbing a hand over the top of the carrier. “We need this. Trust me.”

The cab ride to the airport was quiet, the city slipping past in a blur. She avoided looking at her phone, unwilling to see if Harry had texted or called. She doubted he had.

Hours later, she landed in upstate New York, the cold January air biting at her as she stepped outside the small airport. Her cousin Mia was already there, leaning against her car, arms crossed and a scarf wrapped snugly around her neck.

As soon as Y/N walked over, dragging her suitcase and holding Teddy’s carrier, Mia’s sharp gaze zeroed in on her. “Okay, spill. What the fuck happened? And why did you just up and leave your international pop star boyfriend?”

Y/N sighed, her breath fogging in the icy air as she loaded Teddy into the backseat. “Can we maybe not do this in the parking lot?”

“Nope.” Mia slammed the trunk shut after tossing in Y/N’s suitcase and leaned against the car door, refusing to budge. “You flew across the Atlantic with your cat. That screams big drama, and I need the tea, like, yesterday.”

Y/N groaned, running a hand through her hair as she leaned against the car next to Mia. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“It always is,” Mia replied, her tone both sarcastic and supportive. “But I’m gonna need more than that. Did he cheat? Is he secretly married? What’s the deal?”

Y/N shot her a glare. “No, nothing like that. He’s just… he’s been distant. Forgetting plans, working all the time, barely talking to me. It’s like I don’t even exist to him anymore.”

Mia tilted her head, studying her cousin. “Okay, so he’s an idiot. Got it. But why leave? Why not just, I don’t know, call him out on his bullshit?”

“I did,” Y/N said, her voice cracking slightly. “I tried, Mia. I tried so many times. And last night, he…” She paused, swallowing hard. “He came home smelling like alcohol again, and when I told him I would’ve liked to go out with him, he said it wasn’t a big deal, like I didn’t matter. And then he had the nerve to call me selfish when I got upset.”

Mia’s jaw dropped, and she raised a hand. “Oh, hell no. He did not.”

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening as the memory of the fight replayed in her mind. “So, I told him I needed space. That I was coming home for a bit, and he needed to figure out what he wants. And he just… let me go.”

Mia let out a long whistle, shaking her head. “Okay, first of all, good for you for leaving. Second of all, what an absolute dumbass. Like, I’m sure he’s charming and hot and whatever, but damn, girl, he doesn’t deserve you acting like this.”

Y/N let out a small laugh despite herself. “You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t need to know him,” Mia said with a shrug. “I know you. And if he’s making you feel like shit, then he’s not doing his job as your boyfriend.”

Y/N nodded, her heart feeling a little lighter for the first time in days. “Thanks, Mia.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Mia said, opening the car door. “We’re gonna fix this. Either he pulls his head out of his ass, or we find you a hot new boyfriend who actually knows how to treat you right. Deal?”

Y/N smiled, climbing into the passenger seat. “Deal.”

As Mia started the car and pulled out of the lot, Y/N leaned back in her seat, gazing out at the snowy landscape. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was exactly where she needed to be.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N poured herself into rediscovering the things she loved, the parts of herself that had been lost in the haze of her strained relationship. She spent her days hiking the trails of upstate New York, taking in the crisp air and breathtaking views, her camera always in tow. At night, she indulged in greasy slices of pizza from her favorite childhood spot, the simple comfort of it reminding her of easier times.

She found herself smiling more, laughing louder, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was living for herself again. The weight that had pressed on her chest back in London had begun to lift, replaced with a growing sense of independence and self-assurance.

One night, Mia announced that it was time for a proper girls’ night out. “You’ve been hiking and taking artsy photos long enough,” Mia teased, rummaging through Y/N’s suitcase. “We’re hitting the clubs tonight. You, me, and some dangerously overpriced cocktails.”

Y/N laughed, watching as Mia held up a dress she hadn’t worn in months. “I don’t know, Mia. I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of scene again.”

Mia rolled her eyes, tossing the dress at her. “Nonsense. You need this. Trust me.”

Hours later, Y/N found herself in a crowded club, the bass thumping so hard she could feel it in her chest. She’d forgotten how freeing it felt to just let go, to dance without a care in the world, the swirl of neon lights and the buzz of tequila making everything feel lighter.

Mia kept her entertained with her usual wit, sharing hilarious, sometimes borderline chaotic stories about her own life. Y/N laughed until her sides hurt, her worries melting away with every sip of her drink.

“Okay, okay,” Mia said, holding up her hands as they stood by the bar for a breather. “You remember that guy I told you about—the one with the weird obsession with his bonsai trees?”

Y/N snorted into her drink. “How could I forget?”

“Well,” Mia continued, leaning in conspiratorially, “turns out he didn’t just have bonsai trees. He had dollhouses. Like, full-on, hand-painted dollhouses. I walked into his apartment, and it was like stepping into a miniaturized version of my nightmare.”

Y/N burst out laughing, nearly spilling her drink. “You’re kidding!”

“I wish I was,” Mia said with a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, that’s why I’ve sworn off dating guys who call themselves ‘artists.’”

The two of them dissolved into laughter, the kind of deep, genuine laughter that made Y/N’s cheeks ache. She hadn’t felt this carefree in months.

As the night went on, Y/N found herself dancing again, her body moving instinctively to the rhythm of the music. She felt alive, untethered, and—for the first time in a long time—free.

Mia nudged her at one point, grinning mischievously. “See? I told you this was a good idea.”

Y/N nodded, her smile wide as she looked around the room. “Yeah. You were right. I needed this.”

And in that moment, as she twirled on the dance floor with her best friend cousin by her side, she realized that she was falling in love again—not with someone else, but with herself.

The morning light streamed through the windows as Y/N stood over the stove, flipping bacon while Mia chopped fruit at the counter. The apartment smelled of coffee and breakfast, the comforting sounds of sizzling and light chatter filling the space.

A sudden knock at the door broke the rhythm.

Both girls froze, glancing at each other. “You expecting anyone?” Y/N asked, eyebrows raised.

“Nope,” Mia replied, setting the knife down. “Probably Amazon or maybe bonsai guy finally returning to plead his case.” She smirked and tossed the dish towel over her shoulder.

“Go see who it is,” Y/N said, flipping the bacon. “And hurry back before this burns.”

“On it.” Mia walked to the door, muttering about early-morning interruptions as she swung it open.

She froze, her hand gripping the door, her mouth falling open. “Holy fuck,” she said, her voice loud and full of shock.

“What?” Y/N called, turning away from the stove, confused by Mia’s tone. “Who is it?”

When Mia didn’t answer, Y/N wiped her hands on her pajama pants and walked toward the door. Her heart started to race, a strange tension settling in her chest.

As she reached the entryway, she saw him.

Harry.

He stood there in the hallway, looking slightly disheveled, his hair messy, his coat hanging open. His expression was a mix of determination and something softer, something that made Y/N’s breath catch in her throat.

Their eyes met, and for a long moment, the world seemed to stop.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of everything left unsaid.

She froze, her hands still at her sides, her mind racing as she tried to process the fact that he was here—standing on the doorstep of Mia’s apartment in upstate New York.

From the kitchen, Mia called out, “Do I keep the bacon going, or are we about to have a soap opera moment?”

But Y/N didn’t respond. Her eyes stayed locked on Harry, her chest tightening as she waited for him to say something more.

Y/N’s shock quickly gave way to a mix of confusion and irritation as she stared at Harry, standing there like he belonged on her cousin’s doorstep in the middle of upstate New York. Her arms crossed instinctively, and she narrowed her eyes.

“What are you doing here, Harry?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended. “How did you even find me?”

He shifted on his feet, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat. “You still had your location on,” he said simply, his voice calm. Y/n felt a little dumb for not realizing she forgot to turn that off. Even then, he had connections and could’ve easily found out where she was. 

Y/N’s jaw dropped, her confusion boiling with frustration. “You tracked me?”

“You didn’t answer my calls or texts and your phone went straight to voicemail,” he replied, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, anger bubbling up. “If you’re here to try and convince me to come home. I’m not going back.”

“I’m not asking you to come home,” he said quietly, meeting her gaze. “I just want to talk. That’s all.”

She stared at him, searching his face for any sign of an ulterior motive, her mind racing. Before she could respond, Mia’s voice cut through the tense silence.

“Y/N, for the love of God, if you’re going to yell at him, do it outside,” Mia called from the kitchen, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I have neighbors, and I don’t want them thinking we’re hosting some kind of reality TV reunion in here.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, letting out a frustrated breath as she glanced back at Mia, who was leaning against the counter, arms crossed with an amused expression.

“Fine,” Y/N muttered, turning back to Harry. She grabbed her coat from the hook by the door and stepped outside, letting the door click shut behind her. The cold air bit at her cheeks, but she barely noticed as she faced Harry again.

The cold morning air hung around them as they walked down the quiet, woodsy street, the crunch of gravel under their shoes the only sound at first. Y/N kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her jaw clenched as she waited for Harry to speak. He walked beside her, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, his head slightly bowed.

Finally, after a few minutes, he broke the silence. “I royally fucked up,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I took you for granted, Y/N. I thought… I thought you’d always be there, no matter how much I messed up, no matter how distant I got. And that was wrong.”

His words lingered in the crisp air, but Y/N didn’t respond. She kept her eyes ahead, her steps brisk and determined.

When he didn’t say more, she stopped abruptly and turned to him, her voice sharp with frustration and hurt. “You’re right it was wrong, Harry. Do you even realize how much you’ve hurt me? How lonely I’ve felt these past few months?”

Harry stopped too, his gaze dropping to the ground.

Y/N took a deep breath, her words spilling out in a torrent. “You’ve been more intimate with the studio than you’ve been with me. Do you know how humiliating it is to feel like you’re competing with someone’s job? To watch you pour your passion into everything else?”

His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“And the worst part,” she continued, her voice breaking, “is that I thought… I thought we were heading toward something real, Harry. I thought maybe you’d propose soon, that we’d start building a life together or a family. But now? Now it feels like we’re just heading for a breakup.”

Her words hung heavy between them, the raw honesty of her pain hitting like a punch to the gut. Harry finally looked up, his expression anguished, but he still didn’t speak.

“You didn’t even fight for me when I left,” Y/N said, her voice quieter now but no less hurt. “You just let me go, like it didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter.”

“I—” he started, but she held up a hand.

“No. Don’t say anything yet. Just… listen.”

He nodded silently, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“I love you,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I can’t keep doing this if you’re not going to meet me halfway. And if you can’t give me that, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

The words came out heavier than she expected, the weight of them settling in her chest as she stared at him. For the first time since they’d started walking, Harry’s eyes locked on hers, a mix of guilt and something else—something she couldn’t quite place—flickering in his gaze.

But he didn’t interrupt. He just stood there, listening, the gravity of her words sinking in. And for once, Y/N felt like he truly heard her.

Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his hands still buried deep in his coat pockets. He looked at her, his jaw tightening for a moment before he let out a long breath.

“I don’t really know what to say,” he admitted quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. “Except that I’m sorry. For all of it.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes slightly, her arms still crossed as she waited for more. She wasn’t ready to let him off the hook so easily.

He looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been… I’ve been a bloody idiot, Y/N. I didn’t realize how much I was messing this up until you left. And even then, I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I’d already lost you.”

Her chest tightened, but she didn’t speak. She wanted him to get it all out.

“So, I—” He hesitated, his cheeks reddening slightly as he looked back at her. “I talked to my mum.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “You talked to your mum about us?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t know who else to go to. She called me clueless—which, fair enough—but she also gave me some advice.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching despite her frustration. “Oh, yeah? What’d she say?”

Harry’s gaze softened, his voice dropping. “She told me to stop thinking about what’s easy for me and start thinking about what’s right for us. She said if I couldn’t figure out how to show you how much you mean to me, then I don’t deserve to have you in my life.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart twisting at the honesty in his voice.

“She also told me I’m a terrible communicator,” he added with a faint, self-deprecating smile. “And that I’ve probably made you feel like shit more than once without even realizing it.”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Y/N said, her voice tinged with both irritation and something softer.

Harry nodded, his expression serious again. “I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N. I know I’ve got a lot to make up for. But I’m here because I don’t want to lose you. I want to be better—for you, for us. I just… I need a chance to prove it.”

She stood there, the cold air biting at her cheeks as she searched his face. There was something different about him now, something that felt raw and unguarded. She wasn’t sure if it was enough, but for the first time in weeks, she felt like he was truly seeing her.

She didn’t reply right away, letting his words hang in the air as she turned them over in her mind. Finally, she sighed and looked down at the ground. “You’ve got a lot to prove, Harry. And I’m not going to make it easy for you.”

His lips curved into the faintest smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair as the tension in her shoulders began to ease. She looked at Harry, his eyes still searching hers with an intensity that made her heart twist. Despite everything, despite the hurt and frustration, she couldn’t deny how much she missed him.

“I really missed you,” she admitted softly, her voice trembling just enough to make him lean closer. “Even when I was mad at you—even when I thought I couldn’t stand the sight of you—all I wanted to do was just… jump on you and kiss you. Hug you.”

Harry’s lips parted slightly, a flicker of surprise and relief washing over his face. “You mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” she said, a small, rueful smile tugging at her lips. “I love you, Harry. That’s why this hurt so much. You’ve always been my person, and for a while there, I didn’t feel like yours anymore.”

His face softened, and he took a tentative step closer, his voice low. “You are, Y/N. You’ll always be my person. I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t.”

The sincerity in his voice melted the last of her defenses, and she let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes. “You’re so lucky I love you. But you better believe I’m going to make you work for it.”

“I’m ready,” Harry said with a soft smile.

Y/N tilted her head, her smile widening as a thought crossed her mind. “You know, I’m a little embarrassed now.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Because,” she said, letting out a laugh, “I have to go back inside and tell Mia that we made up. And trust me, she was rooting for full-blown drama. She’s probably already drafting a speech about why I should dump you.”

Harry chuckled, his first genuine laugh of the morning. “Think she’ll let me stay for breakfast, or is that asking too much?”

Y/N smirked, shaking her head. “Don’t push your luck. But if you charm her enough, she might give you a piece of bacon.”

“Well, I’m pretty good at charming people,” he teased, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her.

Y/N rolled her eyes but leaned into him, finally letting herself relax in his embrace. She rested her head against his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, and for the first time in weeks, she felt like things might actually be okay.

“Come on,” she said after a moment, pulling back slightly. “Let’s go face the dragon.”

Harry grinned, threading his fingers through hers. “Lead the way.”

As they approached the house, Y/N noticed a familiar figure standing in the window. Mia was leaning against the sill, a mug of coffee in her hands, her face a mix of amusement and curiosity as she stared out at them.

“Looks like she’s already got commentary locked and loaded,” Y/N muttered, glancing at Harry with a smirk.

“Should I be scared?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Always,” Y/N replied with a grin.

When they stepped onto the porch, Mia was already opening the door, one hand still clutching her coffee. She looked them over, her eyes flicking between Y/N’s flushed face and Harry’s sheepish expression.

“So,” Mia began, drawing out the word with a smirk. “I’m guessing you two worked it out, considering the lack of yelling and door slamming.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we talked. You’re not getting the drama you were hoping for.”

Mia shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “Honestly? I’m kind of happy. As much as I love you, Y/N, I also really love walking around my house in my underwear. Having you here has seriously cramped my vibe.”

Harry stifled a laugh as Y/N gawked at her cousin. “Oh, my God, Mia!”

“What?” Mia said, grinning as she stepped aside to let them in. “I’m just saying, you two reconciling works out for everyone. Love wins, and I get my space back. It’s a win-win.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing as she stepped into the house with Harry following behind. “You’re impossible.”

“That’s why you love me,” Mia said with a wink, heading back to the kitchen. “Now, who’s hungry? And Harry, if you’re sticking around, you better pull your weight. Bacon doesn’t flip itself, pop star.”

Y/N glanced at Harry, who was clearly trying not to laugh as he hung up his coat. “Welcome to the family,” she said with a grin.

“Thanks,” Harry replied, leaning closer to whisper, “I think I’m more scared of Mia than I was of losing you.”

Y/N smacked his arm playfully, but the smile on her face lingered as they followed Mia to the kitchen. 

[theghostofashton]

wip wednesday

thank you @carlos-in-glasses @paperstorm @strandnreyes @bonheur-cafe

@whatsintheboxmh @nisbanisba @carlossreaders @tellmegoodbye for the tags!!

Carlos keeps staring. The words don’t add up in his mind. TK may as well have just told him that the sky is green.  “I was such a mess when we first met.” It wasn’t that long ago, but it feels it, like he’s looking back on a version of himself that barely exists anymore. That’s probably a good thing. All that comes to mind when he thinks about those months is how much they hurt. How tired he was all of the time. TK shrugs. “Not to me.” “Really?” “Yes,” TK emphasizes. He joins Carlos on the couch, closing the space between their bodies. “I thought you were beautiful.” Carlos isn’t sure what to do with that. The knowledge that TK saw him that way during the worst few weeks of his life, a stretch of time when getting out of bed each morning and facing the world felt Herculean. He was putting so much energy into doing just that, going through the motions of routines that used to fit him, a life that used to feel like his. It didn’t, after his father died. The effort to try and slot back into it felt like trying to squeeze into a piece of clothing that no longer fit.  And TK thought he was beautiful. Carlos leans forward and cups TK’s cheek as he presses their lips together. He feels TK start to smile into it, one of his hands sliding across his back and pulling him in.  I love you, Carlos thinks, and feels overwhelmed by the strength of it.

open tag!

[yinyuedijun]

since it is on the brain tonight. have one of my favourite (very very long) scenes of desire path backstory (happened in both versions of the fic, og and current)

(tw implied child abuse and incest)

background: you've just been adopted into the itoshi household and have had a really hard time opening up. sae hears you crying in your bedroom every night. here, he finally decides to try and help you. you're about 6 here, sae is 8.

___

Still, you had your bad nights. Progress has never been linear with you, not now and not back then. Sae recalls one midnight where you had a crying fit that disintegrated into a violent string of coughs, each one so powerful that it made him wince.

He wondered how the whole house wasn't awake, listening to your pain. Rin always slept like a rock—Sae could see him snoring away in the other bed, so it made sense that he wasn't bothered—but surely their parents were hearing this? But then he decided not to linger on it for too long.

It didn't matter since he was going to help you anyway.

He ended up knocking on your door with a glass of water. Almost immediately, all the shifting in your room stopped, almost like you were trying to silence yourself. But Sae could hear the coughs being torn violently from your throat, even though they now sounded strained and muffled.

"Hey," he called out softly. "It's me. Are you awake?"

Silence. Sae knew to give it a moment before he tried again.

"Can I come in?"

If it had been anyone other than you, you told Sae years later, your fingers running lazily through his hair, lifting the bangs out of his face, I wouldn't have said anything. I'd have pretended to be sleeping. But I let you in because it was you. You squeezed his hand, then, and your eyes were close—so close, heavy on his own and weighed down by the vulpine flick of your eyeliner, by the mascara sooty and thick on neatly curled lashes, by your childhood shadows. Your strawberry gloss shone next to his lips, and your heated and tender words kissed them: Do you understand what I'm saying, Nii-chan? If it had been anyone else, I wouldn't have been—

"...okay."

When Sae crept into your room, found an empty bed. You were hiding underneath it, curled up in the tiny space between the floor and the mattress, hugging the quilt he'd handed to you weeks ago. He crouched down, showed you the glass of water. Sae wasn't sure if the offering would be enough to draw you out from under the bed, but another coughing fit—this one strong enough to make you teary-eyed—had you crawling out. You mumbled a little thank you as you took the glass from him and drank.

"You haven't cried like that in a while," Sae commented, and you gave him a stricken look. After a long moment of unadultered panic in your eyes, he heard you string more than two words for the first time:

"...s-sorry. I'm really sorry." You were looking down at the floor, and it was like all the progress Sae had made over the past several weeks had gone up in smoke—you looked petrified, small, a cornered animal with nowhere to run. "I didn't know you could hear me."

"Don't apologize. I don't mind it."

"...you're not mad?"

Sae thought it was a funny question. "No. Who'd get mad at something like that?"

You didn't reply, just looking away, and Sae felt a little frustrated, then. He'd been working so hard to make you feel comfortable and thought he'd finally made some progress—but now he was seeing you regress in real time. Back into the fragile little thing that his parents had decided to adopt out of the blue, looking like you couldn't trust anything around you. Like you couldn't trust him. Sae couldn't help but think—

"You don't like it here, do you."

Even at that age, you had a distinctly doe-eyed look when you were confused, and he remembers staring at it.

"No," you said. "I do."

"Then how come you don't wanna talk to any of us?"

Maybe his voice was a little too harsh. Or a little too blunt. You flinched, your body retreating into the turquoise shell of your quilt.

"Sorry."

"That's—" Sae paused, chewing his lip. Tried to make his voice as gentle as possible, because he knew his usual tone would scare you. "...you don't need to be sorry. I'm not mad. I just wanna know what's been making you so upset. Like—how come you always cry at night?"

You got that nervous, uncertain look in your eye again, and Sae got the distinct feeling that you were wondering if this whole conversation was some kind of trick. He added, "I just wanna know how to cheer you up. I don't like seeing you so sad all the time."

You blinked, gave him a surprised look, but it was fleeting, quickly making way for another gloomy expression. "You don't need to worry about me… I don't think I'm going to stay here for very long."

Sae's brow furrowed. His mom had made it sound like you were going to be his little sister just like how Rin was his brother—that is, permanently. "Why not?"

The face you made was so miserable that it startled Sae. He hadn't had a lot of experience with sadness as a kid—most of what he'd witnessed revolved around soccer, when the opposing team lost, and Sae never felt very sorry for them. Sometimes Rin would throw tantrums or cry over silly things, but those were easy to handle. Sae supposed that the worst sadness he'd ever seen was in his mother, who tried her best to hide it—

—but not even her saddest expressions could compare to how shattered you looked in that moment.

"...your dad doesn't actually want me here, Sae-san."

Sae's brow creased. You have a new sister, he recalled. You need to take care of her, OK? It's your job as the eldest.

"That can't be right," Sae replied. "Dad said he wanted you to be part of this family. He even said I should look after you."

Instead of responding, you looked long and hard at Sae, and for the first time, he experienced the strange feeling of being dissected by you. He felt translucent and naked under your eyes—keen for such an innocent age, seeing everything in the dark.

"We have the same father, but different moms. You know that, right?" you asked quietly.

He hadn't.

"Your dad didn't like my mom very much, and that's why he didn't want me. He's only being forced to take me now 'cause my mom decided she didn't want me either." Your eyes started to shimmer, and you hid them in your blanket. "My stepdad and my brother also left 'cause they didn't want me. And I don't think your mom likes me very much, either. So"—you breathed in deep and whispered, and Sae felt like he was watching a vase tip over the edge, a sandcastle crumbling into dirt, his mother crying as she fumbled for her cigarettes when she thought no one was watching—"it's not gonna be very long 'til your parents throw me away too."

Sae went silent. If his heart ached for you when he first laid eyes on you, then it was being crushed right now. He didn't think very hard about it when he placed a hand over one of yours.

"They wouldn't do something like that," he said.

Your fingers twitched under his, like you wanted to pull away.

"They want to. I can tell."

You're just imagining things, Sae nearly replied, but then he remembered that he'd never once heard his parents come here at night to check on your crying, and then he went quiet.

"...it doesn't matter," he eventually decided. "I won't let them."

A little sniff. "No?"

"No. I'll make sure you stay with us."

You blinked the saltwater away from your lashes, then gave him a curious look. "Why?"

"Because I'm your brother, and it's my job to take care of you."

"Really?" you asked, voice watery.

His eyes softened, his usual impassivity crumbling for you.

"Really. I would never let anyone throw you away," he said, and the words felt so ugly in his mouth that he couldn't fathom how anyone had done that to you. How anyone could have done anything to you. You were so sweet, and so kind, and so vulnerable, and it left him feeling sick when he imagined you being hurt in any way. "I'll keep you safe. Promise."

Sae nearly jumped when he felt something move in his hand. He looked down, saw your little fingers prodding at his own, and he offered you his open palm. You took it readily, Sae found himself transfixed by the latticework of your entwined fingers.

"Thank you, Sae-san."

"It's nothing," he wrote off. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, gentle in a way that his voice wasn't. "But I'm your brother now, remember? You should address me properly."

You smiled a little, studying your interlocked fingers, and Sae felt a peculiar warmth in his chest, an uptick in his pulse.

"Okay, Nii-chan."

Nii-chan. Sae's always loved hearing that title in your mouth. Not out of a demand for respect the way Rin obsesses over it, but because you've always seemed so happy to say it, the syllables sweetened by your adoring tongue. Okay, Nii-chan, you've always said. I'll listen to you, Nii-chan. I trust you, Nii-chan. I love you, Nii-chan. I love you, I love you, I love you.

So please don't leave us again.

Please don't throw me away.

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part six

About the ending of this one: don't hate me! Hate Hotch :)

Warnings: angst! the usual! a meeting with Strauss, Rossi knowing Hotch too well and it annoying the fuck out of Hotch (lovingly)

Everyone knows the case isn’t over, but it might as well be. With nothing else to uncover and Lila safely returned home, the BAU team is called back to Quantico.

Hotch makes sure that the Monroes have some security round the clock in their neighborhood, especially on their street. He doesn’t think anything will happen, but then again, no one can ever be certain. 

The problem is that they can only afford the security for so long. One week, at the most.

You ignore Hotch the entire way home on the jet. In your defense, you ignore everyone. You put your headphones in and curl up in one of the chairs toward the back, perfectly secluded from everyone else.

Hotch watches you, trying not to look as worried as he feels, and hating that he feels such deep worry for you. Sure, your words stung earlier, that he’s the last person you’d want to work for, but they weren’t entirely untrue. You are the last person he expected or wanted to walk through those glass doors. 

He hasn’t had the chance to discuss your placement with Strauss, but he will. Either it was pure coincidence that she placed you here, or she thinks she’s being funny. If it’s the latter, he hopes she can see how hard he isn’t laughing.

Rossi lightly kicks Hotch’s leg under the table. He raises his eyebrows when Hotch drags his eyes over to him.

“What?” Hotch says, settling down further into his seat, glancing at the file he’s supposed to be going over. “Got a cramp?”

Rossi scoffs. “Do you?”

Hotch hums. “When do you think they’ll send us the sketch?” He’s trying hard to change this subject to anywhere but where Rossi wants to take it.

Rossi, of course, ignores Hotch’s question. “I’m guessing she didn’t appreciate you prying into her past.”

Hotch focuses very hard on one word in the file, wondering if he might make it catch fire. “No, she didn’t.”

“Well,” Rossi sighs, looking out the window. “Serves you right.”

Hotch’s eyes snap up, glaring tiredly at his friend.

“What?” Rossi asks innocently. “It’s too soon. You should’ve known better.”

“You know just as well as anyone that in order for this team to work well together we need to have an established level of trust—”

“Save the pep talk,” Rossi waves him off. “I think you just can’t stand being left out of the loop. There’s a missing piece here and you can’t take it.”

Hotch doesn’t know if Rossi is still talking about you or not. “Richard said—”

“I heard what he said,” Rossi interrupts again and Hotch really wishes he’d stop doing that. “And if it was anything that concerns us, don’t you think it would’ve come up in her background check? That you, as Unit Chief, have to go over.”

Hotch can’t say that he disagrees there. He does go over the background checks, just a glance, really. Maybe his eyes lingered on yours a little longer, so what? Maybe he tried to focus on smaller details to puzzle you out, so what? That’s not a crime.

What is criminal is hiding things from the team, especially the Unit Chief. He hates to pull rank, he really does, but when one of the FBI’s Most Wanted sits in an interrogation room and says he recognizes your newest agent, isn’t that cause for concern? Especially when said agent refuses to elaborate?

Why would Richard Monroe of all people recognize you? Or a younger version of you, so he says, because you’re older now than he remembers. Did he see a picture of you? How and where and why and from who? 

Rossi is right. There’s a missing piece. And Hotch can’t stand it.

+++

Hotch gives you the following day off. You know damn well that isn’t standard, and that everyone else is still going into the office, but you don’t argue with him. He’s as surprised as you are about the fact.

Instead, you sleep in, you have a slow morning, you make brunch, and you do everything in your power to not think about your father.

It’s easier said than done most days. It’s hard not to think about him when there’s so much you don’t know — so much you’ll never know.

Because he’s dead. You know that for a fact. Got a phone call from the prison ward and everything.

Still, your mind wanders. You hold your coffee close, the mug practically burning your palms, but you’re too in your head to feel it.

Lila…everything about it was so similar to your situation. Kind of. Given that you still don’t know who kidnapped her, and you might never find out, it could be a freak coincidence. 

You roll your eyes at yourself. Coincidence. Yeah, right. You stopped entertaining the childish idea of those long ago. Everything happens for a reason, which is why you have such a gut feeling about Lila. You just need to get to the bottom of it.

But you have no clue how.

+++

When you return to the BAU the following day, well rested and somewhat less anxious, you head straight for Hotch’s office.

Not because you want to. God, no. Hotch summoned you via text while you were still on the freeway.

You make him wait, though. You need coffee first.

After a pit stop at the staff coffee pot, and then at Emily's desk to chat, you waltz into Hotch’s office without knocking — his blinds are open and you can clearly see he isn’t busy — earning you an exasperated look from your new boss. 

“Don’t give me that look,” you snap without thinking. “You’re the one who called me for a meeting when I wasn’t even halfway here yet. So what? What do you want?”

Hotch really wonders why he tries to be patient with you. “Sit down.”

“Gladly,” you smile, knowing it has to look as fake as it feels. You lower yourself into one of his stiff chairs across from his desk.

Hotch takes a moment, clearly pulling himself together, before he asks, “How are you?”

Your coffee freezes midway to your mouth. You drop the mug back down, resting it on your thigh, letting it burn you there. “Fine,” you give a little shrug. “Thanks for the day off, boss.”

“I thought you might need it,” he replies, like he’s caught you in something.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“I think you’re being an asshole on purpose,” you conclude. “I think I make you nervous, and you’re not used to that, so you take it out on me by being an ass.”

“Projecting, are we?”

“Proving my point, are we?” you grumble, ignoring how right he might be. You take a scorching sip of your coffee. “What did you actually want?”

Hotch stares at you for a moment, studying your face. You stare right back at him, unperturbed.

He’s going to learn that two can play at this game whether he likes it or not.

He’s the first to look away, down at the files on his desk. “The sketch artist spoke with Lila.”

“And?”

“She refused.”

You sit up straighter, nearly spilling your coffee. “What?”

Hotch’s eyes lift to yours. “She refused.”

You sit back again, propping your elbow on the arm of the chair to rub your forehead. “Okay. So what does this mean?”

Hotch threads his fingers together on his desk. “Her mom is going to talk to her, see if she can convince her to talk to the artist again.”

You nod slowly, looking out the window. “Okay. That’s good.” You’re not sure if she will. Or if it’ll get her in any trouble. She’s just a kid.

Hotch stays silent. Your coffee burns your thigh just enough finally that you move to rest it on the other arm of the chair.

You pause, looking over at him without moving your head. Your eyes narrow. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought you might like to know.”

You turn your head, smirking. “Missed me?”

He frowns.

You lift your coffee to your lips, waiting for Hotch to say something else, like you know he will.

He does. “I thought you might be able to shine some light on why she refused.”

You glare at him, but you finish your sip of coffee. “And no one else on the team was capable of shedding light?”

He stares you down. You return the favor.

You’re the first to cave this time. “What do you want from me, Hotch?”

“The truth would be a great start.”

All you can do is laugh, so you do, hanging your head. “Great meeting.” You stand and head for the door, raising your mug. “I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

You hear Hotch push his chair back as he raises to his feet. “We’re not done.”

You pause, but you stay at the door. “You just don’t know how to leave well enough alone, huh?”

“I can write you up for insubordination.”

“Go ahead,” you shrug. “I could use another day off.”

On that note, and before he can hold you captive any longer, you yank his office door open and escape to your desk.

Hotch watches you through his open blinds. The way you settle into your desk chair, the way your hand shakes as you lift your mug to your lips. 

It’s not that he can’t understand why you won’t confide in him -- or, well, it’s less about confiding and more about just telling him the truth. He doesn’t need to be your confidant, or anything remotely friendly. God knows you wouldn’t want that. 

But this is serious. A serial killer recognizes his agent, shakes them up so bad they have what he can only assume was a panic attack in the parking lot, and he’s supposed to, what? Forget he saw anything? 

Forget like his life didn’t flash before his eyes when he saw you crouched down, fighting to take in a single breath of air? Forget like he didn’t pace his entire apartment last night, recalling everything he knows about you to try to ascertain why an FBI’s Most Wanted would recognize you as a child? Forget like he didn’t nearly make himself sick with the implications of that?

It’s uncharted territory for him. Members of his team have hidden things from him before, but they’ve let the truth out. They’ve let him help.

You don’t seem keen to do either of those. Again, it’s not like he doesn’t understand. The two of you aren’t exactly each other’s favorite person -- and won’t ever be. But the nature of the work you do…this isn’t something Hotch can just let go.

+++

The next week at the BAU passes similarly and without much fanfare. No new cases come in -- surprisingly -- but a few seminars come up, some mountains of paperwork, and a meeting with Strauss.

The latter comes as a shock. You think for sure that it is Hotch’s doing, and you’re entirely prepared for a fight. You’re either being fired, reprimanded for your behavior, or who knows what else.

What you don’t expect is for it to be lunch. Plain and simple.

“Thank you for joining me,” Strauss says, in an uncharacteristically good mood, guiding you over to her comfortable chairs. “Sorry for the formality. It’s the easiest way to schedule these things. Please, sit.”

You sit across from her, waving off the apology. “Not a problem. I was a little worried, so I’m glad it’s only lunch.”

“Why?” she asks. “Is everything alright in the BAU?”

“Oh, yes,” you laugh it off. Hotch just hates me, but not to worry, the feeling is mutual. “Just new job jitters, I suppose.”

“Ah, still adjusting?”

“You could say that,” you nod with another sheepish laugh.

“Well, you shouldn’t worry,” she says. “I hear your performance is exceptional, and you fit right in.”

You raise an eyebrow. Hotch told her that? “Oh,” you try not to show your shock. “Thank you, I’m…I’m glad to hear that.”

She smiles. “Aaron can be a little rough around the edges, but you’re doing fine. Don’t worry. Ah, there’s lunch.”

Sandwiches are brought in, leaving you no time to really process what she has just confirmed. 

And he is never going to live it down.

The rest of your lunch meeting passes by easily. To your surprise, Strauss steers the conversation away from the BAU and toward how you’re settling in here in general. 

“It was a big move, I heard,” she says. “I hope the area is treating you well?”

“It’s great,” you nod. “I do love it here.”

Of course, work topics come up, such as professionalism among the team and how those lines blur around some. She doesn’t linger here, though, so you think nothing of it. 

“A new case will likely come tomorrow,” she says. “You’ll hardly ever be without one this long. Consider yourself lucky.”

You laugh at that, mostly to hide your scoff. You wouldn’t consider yourself lucky to be without a case because it only means Hotch’s focus is on you instead of catching a killer -- which is a much better use of his time. Safer for him, too. Because with every passing day you come closer to spilling hot coffee down his suit.

Kidding. Kind of.

“Mm! I do have one thing to ask you,” Strauss says suddenly.

You swallow your nerves and look at her expectantly.

“Richard Monroe,” she starts, and you feel your blood run cold. “He’s still cooperating in their investigation, however,” she pauses, lacing her fingers together. “He’s asked to speak with you.”

You blink. “With me?”

She nods. “You clearly made some impression on him. He’s apparently been asking for you for a few days, though they only just notified me this morning.” She pauses to sigh. “Do you have any idea what he might be after?”

You shake your head, dusting crumbs off your leg. “No idea.”

“Alright,” she accepts your answer far too easily. “Well, if there’s time, and if he keeps asking, I might ask you to go speak to him. Just to…keep the peace, I suppose. We can call it research for the BAU.” She waves her hand. “But it’s not at the top of my list.”

“Of course,” you nod slowly. “Just let me know.”

She smiles. “I’ve taken up enough of your lunch time, so I’ll let you get back to work.” She stands and you do as well, a rare moment where you’re itching to get back to the bullpen. “You’re going to do just fine here. You’re already exceeding expectations, so well done. Keep it up.”

“Thank you,” you return the smile, your chest expanding from the praise. It’s nice knowing your boss’s boss thinks you’re doing well, no matter how Hotch acts when you’re in the same room. Checkmate.

+++

Hotch scowls at the paperwork before him as he listens to your laughter filter up to his office. You returned from your meeting with Strauss in a frustratingly good mood and have been joking around with Morgan for half an hour.

Fed up, Hotch shoves his chair back to shut his door. Maybe he slams it. It doesn’t matter.

He hears the conversation come to a halt. Good. Maybe now they’ll get some work done for once.

He signs off on what he needs to, closing the folder and moving on to the next. And the next. And the next.

Before he knows it, he’s the second to last in the office again. Rossi knocks once on Hotch’s office door before he opens it, one hand holding his coat over his shoulder.

“Working late?” Rossi asks, striding in and settling down across from Hotch.

“Yes,” Hotch says, not looking up from the paperwork. He still has a mountain to get through, and maybe it could wait until tomorrow, but he needs to focus. On something that isn’t you.

“Want to get a drink?”

“No.”

“Alright. Any particular reason you’re so grouchy today?”

Hotch sighs, looking up at his friend and hoping his eyes convey the best I’m not in the mood look that he can. 

He must succeed, because Rossi presses even more. “Doesn’t have anything to do with, say, a certain new agent who seemed to be in a great mood today for the first time in a week?” He pauses, musing. “Or maybe it’s the fact that said new agent didn’t say one word to you today?”

Hotch’s jaw tenses. It’s true. Neither of you spoke to the other today. Plenty of glares were shared, though, which is the same as words for you two.

Rossi leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Aaron. She’ll come to you if she needs help. If she wants help.”

No, she won’t, Aaron wants to say, but he can’t. Because what’s his reasoning? Something he doesn’t want to admit.

The facts are that Rossi doesn’t know you. Rossi wasn’t there when Hotch first met you on that case all those years ago. Rossi wasn’t there to watch you try to do everything yourself and nearly fistfight Hotch every time he tried to take one thing off your plate. Rossi wasn’t there to watch you nearly get yourself killed because you refused to ask for help. Rossi wasn’t there to see the panic that had crossed Hotch’s face when he saw your reckless behavior. 

Rossi doesn’t know you. Not the way Hotch does.

Which is why after Rossi leaves, Hotch gathers his things, and stops to see Penelope on his way out of the office.

[oleandequill]

You know, it drives me crazy to know that technically there’s two (at least in terms of prominence cause I think there’s also a TFA one though it doesn’t seem as talked about) canonical Shattered Glass continuities: the one made by FunPub and the IDW reboot.

Cause the thing is, those two comics have vastly different Megatrons and Optimus Primes.

Like we have FunPub Megatron who is a mathematician and Optronix who was a librarian that backstabbed his way to the top.

Then we have the IDW versions where Megatron is a miner/civil activist who keeps getting tossed into jail and Orion Pax who is a senator in this version.

And what fascinates me is that in the FunPub version, Optimus actually lives (though he becomes Nova Prime). Meanwhile, in the IDW version, I think he dies (?) or well his fate is much worse in comparison to FunPub!OP.

Also what’s up with both Megatrons having a fakeout death? FunPub!Megatron does get killed by Cyclonus but he comes back as Galvatron. Meanwhile IDW!Megatron gets defeated by OP and is momentarily thought to be dead (he just went into self-exile).

There’s not actually a lot of difference between the two OPs (cause honestly they both seem insane), though I guess one could interpret FunPub!OP as much more depressing cause the only reason he’s evil is cause he saw life as meaningless unless history remembers you and when he becomes Nova Prime, he’s still a little jerk but he’s tamer so I assume that was his original personality. IDW!OP just wants total power and only initially hides behind a nice facade.

The two Megatrons are vastly different though in my opinion. Cause FunPub!Megatron really was just some guy who predicted civil war and was good enough to want to stop it (this Megatron wasn’t affected by the caste system, he just genuinely saw something wrong was happening and chose to do something about it). IDW!Megatron was someone who was affected by the caste system and was trying his best to bring attention to it. FunPub!Megatron is also very nice (like not overly nice but he’s genuinely such a nice guy and this is why he’s my favorite aside from him being a nerd lmao). IDW!Megatron is a bit more jaded (which is fair cause the caste system is horrible and his “friend” is an asshole).

Even the relationship between OP and Megatron are different in both continuities. I’m pretty sure in FunPub these two never interacted before the war, where OP gets pissed that this random mathematician is opposing him. In IDW, OP and Megatron were “friends” with OP even bailing Megatron out of jail, though their “friendship” was already toxic even before the war cause Megatron seemed to really see through OP’s BS.

All this to say, there should really be a crossover between both continuities.

SGFunPub!Megs and SGIDW!OP meeting would be kinda fun and dangerous, especially if they meet each other before the civil war broke out. Megatron wouldn’t know who OP is while OP would see another version of his Megatron who he could possibly trick. Also this has the added bonus of a hilarious scenario where Megatron predicts OP is the cause of the civil war through math and that pisses off OP cause genuinely tf you mean you computed that through math. This one is more dangerous though as OP genuinely wants power and will not be swayed by whatever Megatron says.

SGIDW!Megs and SGFunPub!OP might honestly end up the happier version ngl. Cause OP clearly has an existential crisis that Megatron can probably fix by convincing him that OP can still be remembered in history by doing the right thing… such as being a civil rights activist. Like… I’m just saying maybe FunPub!OP needs therapy (and unlike IDW!OP, he actually gets a canonical redemption arc so he’s not completely lost).

.

.

.

Anyway, will I write this? Maybe (I really shouldn’t though cause I have a series and two writing requests to finish lmao). Because I am officially employed now and thus have a fixed schedule unlike the previous weeks where my schedule was erratic (which is not good for my OCD as I need a fixed schedule or I will be very upset sksksksk) as I had nothing to do but read, play video games, and exist lmao

[mizgnomer]

Good Omens 2 - Glasses Off

[convoloutedinjoke]

Currently writing swap AU where Kim is just himself on hard mode. Like he wakes up in a clean, normal room, puts on the same outfit as always and doesn't tell anyone he's forgotten everything until Harry wheedles it out of him by badgering him for One Singe Secret (he cant remember any).

He then goes outside and points a gun at a civilian over a perceived threat.

[erstwhilesparrow]

the papers from the bankers say they doubt you’re coming home

So Cleo wins. Of course they win.

—

Scott has a garden. He used to tend it with his own two hands. He doesn’t anymore, but the garden finds its ways of being self-sufficient. It’s not witchcraft; Cleo doesn’t care and Scott drags decay in his wake like a wedding dress train. Gave up, at some point, trying to keep it in check.

That there’s life at all in the garden is nothing short of miraculous, so Scott hauls himself upright and down the stairs every afternoon to see the miracle for himself again. His old lizard-like friend—reanimated after an accident, and then what might have been sabotage, and then what definitely was spite—doesn’t keep names very well these days, but he roams the garden, and seems comfortable enough that Scott finds himself relaxing in his presence.

“Hello,” Scott says, voice rusty from disuse. He doesn’t need to talk much these days—whatever he’s about to say, Cleo reacts just the same, as if they’ve already heard it. “How are you doing?”

His friend flicks his tongue in Scott’s face, and the smell of rot—always there to some degree—intensifies. Scott’s had time to practise, to study. But a dead thing brought back has already split its self with death. There are points past which there is no return.

It could be worse. Scott and death are old lovers these days.

He tells his friend, “I haven’t seen Cleo since… two days ago? Two days ago for me.” Scott coughs. He gets two sentences before his throat gets dry, and if he cared, he’d be sad that this is the improvement. For all her power, it’s no wonder the Supreme Witch had to die eventually.

“Maybe I’ll ask where she went,” Scott laughs.

He won’t. He hasn’t. Nothing touches them out here. Cleo always comes back, swaggering or exhausted or sweet or fearful. Scott and the garden and death stand guard. It has been a long time since she let him fold her into his arms, but maybe Scott’s too hopeful for his own good. Someone, somewhere, keeping watch for her. He can do that while he waits.

—

“Okay. We can try again.”

Scott stumbles into Cleo’s study—library, really; it has long outgrown being a study, but Scott calls it such out of habit and Cleo can adapt—carrying a stack of books, a bundle of charred sticks, and a satchel round with shapes that Cleo is certain are familiar.

“What’d you find this time?” they ask.

“Golden apples. Enchanted ones.” There’s an exhausted gleam to his eye, and fiercer than that, pride. It is uncomfortably recognizable.

Cleo makes mistakes, okay? If their reputation is what it is in this world, it’s only because they’ve had the experience from a hundred prior failures. They don’t catch themself in time.

“Scott—” Cleo starts.

Instantly, Scott’s expression crumples. He recovers fast enough, lips pressing shut and eyes narrowing, but this other half, this ghost he’s carrying around, is like an open wound, and he has none of a time witch’s ability to let things scar over.

“We haven’t even tried,” Scott hisses. “Don’t look at me like that! How—”

It’s only the second time Cleo has seen this turn of events, so it still pierces them, quiet, as precise as if aimed. They shake their head. “It doesn’t work. I—We tried.”

“You’ve done this before? This exact thing?”

“Yes,” Cleo says, and nothing more.

Scars can still ache, and Cleo still feels it, like the remnants of a bad cut tearing from their sternum down to their guts. Despite the scar tissue, she had hoped too. She had forgotten she could hope like that. She had watched Scott retch in the garden afterwards and decided it wasn’t worth it.

“That’s—” Scott drops the supplies with a growl, and in perfect unison, he and Cleo flick their hands to catch everything before it hits the floor. “Did you—”

“Nothing yet,” Cleo interrupts, then winces. If Scott’s magic keeps him sallow and starving-eyed, keeps him a half-dead thing cannibalizing itself, hers layers over her like thin coats of paint. It’s the loneliest thing in the world to watch Scott reach for the book she’d been annotating and know exactly how the motion goes. She flinched, the first couple of times. Now, some wild, living part of her breathes, Catch it. Hold him. Please.

But it’s not Scott Cleo’s after, and it’s not Cleo that Scott’s after.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. We’ll… We’ll try something else.”

“Of course we will.”

Scott smiles as if that’s a new joke, and—Oh, it is, isn’t it? Cleo likes his smile, but it’s the same as being offered a handful of berries when what she wants is a feast.

Cleo has painted over their own past a hundred, a thousand times now. They wonder, quietly, privately, if they’ll know how to give up their time witch powers when this is all done, and worse, they wonder what they’ll be when they can’t.

—

“So,” Scott rasps. “We could test them out. Your new powers.”

They’ve had a total of one night’s sleep over the past four days, collapsed exhausted and shouting on Cleo’s couches as soon as the signal came through that she had won, that it had worked, that Scott’s death hadn’t needed to be permanent for a victor to be declared. 

The jubilation seems to have vanished with the sunrise. They’ve woken up too early and are standing in the kitchen in a facsimile of domesticity.

“We could,” Cleo says. Closes their eyes. Spits without looking into one of the buckets on the floor—blood and rotted meat and inky-purple residue. “We… Yes.”

“Does anything… feel different?” Scott keeps his arms crossed; can’t lean on the counter because there’s buckets of offal and basins shimmery with amethyst dust and ugly smears all over. Neither of them have eaten. Neither of them are eating.

“I think I’ve been here before,” Cleo says, quiet, confessional in a way they haven’t been until now. “I had—I have nightmares.”

Scott thinks about making a joke. Looks again at the buckets of blood, and the fact that he stopped going back to his house after a while. Cleo caught him sleeping on their couch the first time and only said, “It’s fine. You can take my bed here if I can take yours at your place.”

“I know,” Scott says. 

Cleo looks, briefly, surprised. It sparks some kind of surprise in Scott too. Maybe he shouldn’t be. There is no danger in being surprised once you’re untouchable.

“You too?” they ask.

Scott just nods.

They’re the same thing from two different angles—so they recognize each other, but can do no more than that. He’s thought about reaching over and wiping some of the rusty blood off their mouth. Can’t do it for the same reason he can’t go home yet.

Cleo’s hand comes up, hesitates, goes back to draw her wand and gesture with it. The buckets begin a slow, careful orbit around her. “Let’s clean up first? This place feels disgusting.”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Yours.” A wry grin and no hard feelings, just like that.

“The all-powerful Supreme Witch doesn’t have a spell for that?” Scott flutters his fingers. “What do you need me for?”

“It’s better when I’m with you,” Cleo says simply. 

They don’t elaborate. Scott doesn’t ask.

—

It’s the same thing from two different directions. Of course they help each other out. Doing favours, owing favours. 

Neither of them have named this thing, but each repaid debt has a little extra to it, a leash if you’re cynical, a promise if you’re too hopeful for your own good. They keep count, each separate, private ledger book a see-saw or a double pendulum, tracing out the shape of something others might think to call a type of love.

“That’s cheating,” Scott complains, when Cleo tells him how they’ve learned to loop time and get three times the amount of studying in.

“It’s winning,” Cleo corrects smugly.

Scott scoffs.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” they murmur, teasing-sweet.

“Can you cast it on me too?” he asks. The bags under his eyes have never been just for show.

A different Scott once asked the same question, and the same Cleo agreed until they could both spit curses with as much ease as most people breathed. 

The memory of sitting in the same room, up late poring over spell tomes and stepping out onto the balcony to attempt new hexes, is carved into Cleo’s memory.

Similarly carved, though they don’t like reaching for it, is the memory of how the two of them made themselves too dangerous too soon, how the other witches whispered behind their hands about them, how the two of them barricaded Kairos and settled in for a seige.

“They’re just meat,” Cleo had snarled, pacing the room.

Scott’s fingers had twitched. Each word heavy and sure in his mouth, he’d agreed, “They’re just meat.”

That’s the kind of philosophy that causes trouble, that gets you hunted, questioned, locked away. That’s the kind of philosophy that has no room for love.

The same thing from another direction, then.

“Time witches only,” Cleo sing-songs instead, in the here and now.

“I’ll curse you.”

“You won’t.”

The look Scott shoots them is so, so familiar. They’ll get to know that look, and then they’ll forget it. It’s a little scary, how sure they are of this.

“Fine, but can you help me with this? I can’t get it to go the direction I want it to…”

Cleo gets the funniest feeling suddenly, like they’re a child playing with dolls again.

—

Scott gets back home and shuts the front door behind him and puts away his materials all nice and neat in the too-big upstairs and that’s when it hits him.

A time witch. A time witch who hesitated a moment too long before dipping their head in some loose imitation of a bow. A time witch who was still picking glow lichen off their dress, but a time witch nonetheless.

Scott shuts his eyes and is suddenly, viciously glad he agreed to work with them. Fine. So maybe he doesn’t have to win this contest to get what he needs from it. His magic is already rot and horror; what’s a couple more pieces of himself for the meat grinder?

They seemed willing enough to extend a hand toward him. He gets the strangest feeling he would like them even without the competition, without the promise that they’ll help one another. Maybe he hadn’t realized how much he missed having company.

Absurd. Something about the way she looked at him like they already knew each other.

“Better study up on some curses,” Scott murmurs.

—

And so Cleo wins. Of course they do.

[screampied]

❛ BON APPÉTIT, BABY! ❜ g. satoru

☆ sum. stupid ovulation week is approaching soon and out of nowhere, you get baby fever. you ask your sugar daddy for help but his version of ‘help’ is trying to get you pregnant.

wc. 5.1k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), praise, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, implied multiple rounds, size kink, ōral (f! receiving), he makes out w your panties, overstim, major brēeding kink, nıpple play, spıt, impact play, petnames.

➤ sd! gojo masterlist.

fuck, these cramps never knew when to quit.

you were crawled up in a ball on the sofa, suffering in agonizing silence. you sigh, taking a brisk glance near the grandfather clock that sits beside satoru gojo, your sugar daddy’s glass cabinets. oh, you missed him. it’s been a few good months with him as his sugar baby and you felt like a princess—no, a queen. he’s showered you with many many praises, not just gifts but of course, that too. you’re so lonely in his mansion, but you wondered what he was doing right now. probably working, you knew how busy of a businessman he was, but you missed him. his smell, his presence, his petnames. whipping out your phone, you unlock it, skimming toward his contact. ‘toru’ with a pretty pink heart as his contact, you text him a sweet forward ‘miss you.’

not even seconds later, he replies, giving your message a heart. ‘Hi, sweetheart. i miss you too. being a good girl for me, yeah?’

with a pout, your eyes skim through his flirty words and you press the video call button. you couldn’t wait. . you needed to see him. satoru answers it, and as expected, he’s sat upright in his office. so handsome, his snowy white hair was ruffled yet neatly slicked back and parted. he wore the suit you picked out for him, the jet-black one with a tie that makes his pretty blue eyes pop. “hey you,” a raspy voice utters on the phone, and he’s snickering at how you’re just lazily slump on the couch, bored out of your damn skull. “put some clothes on, darlin’.”

“no,” you grump, although you did have clothes on. clothes that basically consisted of a thin sage tank top and panties. satoru was typing on his computer. you heard the quickness of his fingers typing away as he’s taking every few glances to look at you again. “come home, ‘toru. these cramps are killin’ me,” and you mumble the last part under your breath. “. . andiwantababy.”

it’s a long silent pause and he’s fully looking at you through the screen now. all that could be heard in the background was the screeching and beeps of his costly fax machine.

satoru’s got a glint in his eyes before his voice pitches, and he slyly hums. “oh, you want a baby, sweets? my, you really do need me ‘ta come home, huh.”

you squeeze your thighs together, positioning your phone to lie in landscape mode—you were still a bit sensitive from earlier, from touching yourself. as your breath excitingly hitches, you couldn’t help but pout again.

“ ‘toru, think ‘m havin’ baby fever or something,” and your words were oh so sweet. satoru’s sitting up against his chair, leaning up against his palm. the shine of his expensive g-shock glimmers in the light within each time he moves. “come home, please.”

“sweetheart,” he tsks, two white arched brows piercing together. he could never say no to you, he spoiled you so much . . not that he never minded either. you were his baby, and satoru playfully scoffs at your needy declaration. “you really can’t wait another hour? i’m almost done.”

“no,” you grouse, a cute glower stretching across your features, marinating as you speak. satoru chuckles at your bratty persistence, and you watch as he fixes his tie, lightly tugging on it.

“fine, fine,” he gruffs. “i’m coming, princess. wear that new designer set i bought for you, okay? ya know the one, the rose-gold?”

smearing your glossed lips against each other, you give him a nod. you ached for him, each second you spent on the phone was a constant reminder of how he wasn’t there with you. satoru found your clinginess adorable though. it was cute how you’d always text and call him while he’s at work. even if his responses were hours late, he’d always get back to you, sending you sweet ‘hi baby’ and ‘i miss you more, pretty,’ ‘s.

if you were feeling bold, you’d send him a few pictures of yourself in one of the many expensive custom-made sets of lingerie he buys you.

his favorite would have to be the ‘satoru gojo’ exclusive brand of lingerie for women, he literally bought the entire stock of all colors just for you.

“okay,” you mumble, already making your way toward his bedroom. a few of his servants and butlers were dusting away at furniture and his entire mansion was huge. it was spacey, you could practically get lost in it. as you stomp lightly, the bare soles of your feet slide against the glassy-textured floor before you glance down at your screen. “drive safe.”

“i will, sweets. see you soon, yeah?”

with a beep, the call ends and it’s just you trapped in your own silent thoughts.

as you made your way to the master bedroom, immediately, you’re met with the loud cologne scent of satoru. it’s enchanting, it’s always the same smell of cinnamon and spices. satoru gojo always smelled rich regardless. rich was his middle name. you dig through your walk-in closet he had made for you, fishing out the set he wanted to see you wear. it was dashingly pretty.

he bought the rose-gold set as a gift for your birthday, and even if it did hurt his pockets a lot, he never cared. anything for you—his pretty baby.

about forty minutes later, satoru returns home finally and he yawns, stretching his long limbs. you scurry to him, your head reaching just near the center of his chest and he lightly jerks back.

“hey baby,” he returns the hug, big callused hands roaming up and down your exposed skin. the lingerie fit you perfectly, displaying your curves and gorgeous physique. satoru buried his face into the crook of your neck, planting a soft kiss. “you’re so spoiled. i can’t always leave work jus’ because you miss me, y’know.”

“i know,” you let off a soft moan, his soft lips creating gingerly mushy traces everywhere near your skin. he was always so tender, nips of kisses slowly turning into flicks with his tongue. satoru’s left hand slowly snakes near your leg, raising it up before wrapping it around his slim torso. your ankle rubs against the burberry belt he wore. it clanks loudly and he then lifts you up. “s- satoru!”

“what?” he hums, leading you closer toward the bed.

you heard the playfulness in his tone, and he’s got you in such a firm grasp. his fingertips continue to roam down your soft skin, snagging against the laced fabric that wraps around your body like a christmas present. “god, you’re so hot,” he murmurs in a raspy tone, and you glance at his parted slick backed hair. it’s unkempt now, white strands and tresses running down his eyes. he lies you down on the bed gently, and that’s when he gets on top of you.

you gulp, meeting the eyes of satoru. pretty blue eyes, they’re always so mesmerizing to look at.

but this time, he’s got a more feral look in his pupils as they dilate. “sweetheart,” he whispers, using a thumb to caress the edge of your twitching lip. with the way you’re prettily sprawled all out like this for him at his very mercy, there’s so much he wanted to do. satoru’s eyes never leave yours, not for a single second. “do you really want a baby or is just the baby fever?”

“b- both,” you gasp, not even noticing his hand creeping down between your legs, parting them apart.

you moan, feeling his palm rub up against the outline of your panties. so soaked, satoru’s breath hitches at your sweet whimpers and he’s so close up to you. so close that his rock-hard boner presses up against you and fuck, it’s hard. a visible tinted bulge was sticking out the center of his slacks and it’s driving him mad.

the mental image of you with a swollen tummy, all plump and baring his child, it makes him groan. satoru’s had his fair share amount of sugar babies in the past, but none of them were you.

“such a silly little girl,” he huffs, a bit of humor in his tone. but not wanting to waste any time, he leans in, capturing your lips into a deep hungry kiss.

whiny moans pour into his mouth - he’s sweet.

the minty kind of sweet where you taste peppermint lingering on his tongue.

satoru kisses sloppy this time, gradually grinding his body against yours. it’s incredibly sloppy, not much passion and more-so filth—strings of spit tangle with each other, forming little lustrous cobwebs of saliva before he sucks on your tongue. his pretty white lashes flutter before he opens them, staring at you, grunting right in your mouth. his boner continues to rub off against your clothed pussy and his groans only grow louder.

“fuuuuckk,” he swears, smacks of lips ringing through his ears. it was something about you, he didn’t know what it was but you were addicting.

satoru starts to peel off the pieces of lingerie piece by piece. by peel, he’s carelessly tearing through it as if the entire designer set didn’t cost him an arm, a leg, and a fucking torso. but again, even with his pockets swollen and suffering because of you, he’d buy you the whole world if he could. well, he probably could. he’s satoru gojo. “sweets, ‘m gonna devour you.”

five words.

five words that constantly went on a loop in your head as satoru’s eating out your cunt like a starved man.

he was starved, it’s been hours since he’s seen you. as he’s delving his face right between the plush of your thighs. you moan, chomping the front row of your teeth down on your quivering bottom lip. fuck, he was just nasty.

merely seconds passed and he’s already slobbering over your pussy. strands and strands of glossy spit trickles from his lips and onto your folds. “ ‘toruuuu,” you whimper, relishing in the way his tongue curls all throughout your drooling core. he’s maneuvering all kinds of shapes and circles, even spelling all letters of his name on your cunt with his tongue. scarlet plump lips of his gently kiss near your labia whilst warm breath ghosts near your sappy slit. shaking all from his tongue, the bed grows rickety from your movements and you inhale a sharp breath.

your fingers get intertwined between his white locks of hair and you pull tight.

his head tugs forward into you and he grunts, swaying his slick pink muscle in and out of your cunt. “mngh,” he groans, and that’s when he sneaks a hand between your pried open legs.

you stare down at him as he’s devouring you whole, slurping everything out of you until he’s satisfied - and that won’t be for a good while.

it doesn’t take a while before he’s already completely pussy drunk.

satoru’s fingers slither near your pussy and as his flat tongue repeats to lap lap lap up your syrupy sweet juices, he pops inside a single finger.

an exasperated breathy gasp snatches straight out the back of throat before you immediately feel the mouthwatering stretch of his digits and it’s toe curling.

if it was one thing about satoru, his fingers were long, slender, and also very very thick.

with a single swirl motion he’s making with his finger shoved deep inside, you’re already at the verge of breaking. crumbling because of his sloppy tongue. his fingers could stretch you out just as much as his cock could.

satoru even had you keep your panties on for him. the same panties he bought you as a gift.

a gift where he collaborated with victoria’s secret, your panties had both of his infamous initials bedazzled on the front and back. god, every time he traces his tongue over the tiny little beads, it drives him crazy every time.

you drive him crazy.

his flat laid tongue teasingly licks at the silk fabric before it turns into a whole raunchy make out sesh. pretty white lashes flap as he’s slurping everything out of you, missing no spot.

he couldn’t afford to, not when you tasted this good.

“we’re a ‘lil squirmy today, huh,” he snickers, feeling your weak thighs writhe because of his tongue.

it felt so good, the way he’s casually slurping you, eating your pussy as if it was the last thing to devour on earth. such raunchy sloshing sloshes cry out from your cunt and he groans. your fingers remain tangled in his hair, yanking on his messy tresses before he flicks his tongue against that spot.

it’s soft and spongy, and with the help of his long fingers curling and scissoring in and out of your sopping pussy, you let off a candied three-second shriek. “oh, darlin. found it, did i?”

“fuck, ‘toru,” your body falls back against the silk pillows.

multiple wanton whimpers slither from your lips as he’s continuously toying his tongue against your g-spot. it seemed as if his tongue was helping with your cramps entirely. such pressure builds up in your body and you were just so hot that you felt like you were gonna explode. “gonna cum, fuck fuck.” you’re babbling out pathetic cries that fall deaf to his pointed ears. satoru hums in smug amusement, jaw feeling tight and locking but he doesn’t care.

he was feeling pretty exhausted from coming back from work but just a single taste of your pussy and suddenly, he was energized once again.

ironic.

his two fingers continue to swivel around inside your gripping walls as your body slumps into the mattress in lewd defeat. satoru grunts, grinding his boner against the edge of the bed to calm himself but you made it so hard.

you made him hard.

as he’s luxuriating in this eagle view of your legs prettily laid up for him, he’s merely knuckles deep.

you can barely stay still and the bed’s staring to grow rickety. satoru’s speed of his tongue doesn’t falters, and as he’s slurping every drop from your sappy folds—you let out your final elongated moan. it’s long, your legs erupt dramatically and shake within his hold before you’re finally cumming. it drags for a long time and you’re just nothing but hysterical.

overwrought with emotions and pleasure, your legs finally collapse—as if they weren’t already basically limp, you exhale deeply.

“fuck, fuck fuuuck,” you repeat, watching with hazy murky eyes as he pulls your panties back toward the center with his teeth. satoru licks up your sweet saccharine-flavored juices that seep out from you, savoring the honeyed taste on his tongue before you pull on his hair . . hard.

“tsk. watch the hair, girl,” he warns you, still being cheeky and playful.

your cunt embarrassingly twitches once he makes eye contact with you again. satoru sits up, his entire chin coated with nothing but your slit. its a stream of it and it’s pretty. it was just the way it trickles down and he laps the crevices of his lips with his tongue. “so cute,” he murmurs, and he closes the gap between you both. as satoru feels your trembly legs wrap around his waist, he pulls you into another deep passionate kiss.

you moan right into his mouth, lazily tossing your arms over his broad-built shoulders before feeling him yank your panties down your legs and ankles.

satoru’s body was hot.

he still had his business attire on, and he feels your hand slowly removing his tie. your other hand runs down his tux, sliding inside the center to feel his washboard chiseled and hiding underneath the piles of formal work clothes.

“such a needy ‘lil thing,” he whispers gruffly between kisses, chuckling once he sees the forming pout tweak against your swollen lips.

satoru rubs a thumb over you lip before his crystalline-colored irises meet yours. the silence was cold, he’s got a wolffish smirk compressing against his lips before he mutters right near your ear. “now, let’s give ya that baby, sweetheart.”

saying ‘baby’ was an understatement.

with the way satoru was about to fuck you, he planned on giving you triplets.

maybe even more, and the constant rambles of how little ‘ole you was stuck in his mansion all day with baby fever did something to him. oh, poor thing, suffering with cramps all day. it was the end of the world. to you at least it was. but like the loving sugar daddy he was, satoru figured he’d do his best to ease your little ‘problems.’

“gimme that pretty arch, goooood..” he purrs, using a hand to rub down your exposed back.

satoru groans—his formal trousers / pants were pulled down to his ankles and he’s staring at your pretty ass. so cute. he watches with a carnal glint in his eye as you position yourself, gnawing on your lip and the bars of your enclosure. the anticipation was about to bury you six feet under.

his leaky tip slowly smears and bedaubs against your dripping clit and you whine. your hands, clammy and all, roughly grip onto the richly-made sheets.

his tip was fat, it’s got a glistening swollen head that’s teasing you. satoru’s breathing grows shallow once he sees your pussy cutely trying to swallow. “fuck, please,” you croak, desperate for him to go inside. he always does this—everytime.

right before he’s preparing himself to fuck you raw, satoru smacks his bulbous cockhead against your sappy weeping folds, hearing your sweet little cries grow unsatisfied. all you could think about was having him breed you full . . over and over and over again, you didn’t just want it, you needed it.

you needed him.

“relaaaax, sweet thing. ‘m comin,” a chortle dies from his throat as he feels you trying to wriggle your hips.

you’re impatient, and once he’s fully aligned, he’s finally dipping his weighty cock inside your perfectly tucked folds.

suddenly, your needy whines stop and they turn into whines of rapture. satoru trails a big hand toward the cusps of your ass, tracing down the cute curvy curvature of your body before your skin’s met with a rude swat.

you moan as he’s easing himself inside your gummy walls, stretching you open even more than his fingers did. “atta fuckin’ girl. let me in, biiiiiig stretch, there we go.”

the stretch . . you’d never get used to it, never.

your stomach heaves once he’s reeling his hips in. “s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, your knees already buckling and becoming weak. satoru spanks your bare ass again just to hear those sweet yelps leave your lips. he’s so fucking big, it doesn’t take long before he’s bottoming out and you hear the welcoming ‘pop’. satoru groans once he starts to move, one hand holding onto your hip—another focused on your pretty perked ass. he likes this view, the view of his sweet girl arched over on all fours. satoru bites his lip as he starts to make delicious haste with his sharp keen hips.

“god,” his head throws itself back briefly at a certain angle.

already, white strands stick to his forehead with the help of his sweat substituting as glue. satoru’s voice shakes as his cock’s fully in, your clingy gripping walls were so warm and it makes his mouth water from the inside. “missed my favorite pussy so fuckin’ bad, so bad,” and you feel a few droplets plop down your back. satoru’s eyes rove over, watching you writhe again and he sheepishly snickers.

he was drooling.

“heh, sorry.” and he wipes his mouth with his wrist, the feral feeling pooling in his gut never fading.

you’re a mess underneath him, the second he starts to drill his hips into you—it’s over.

satoru’s stamina was always unhinged.

the bed croaks and groans from the constant shakes ‘n creaks it has to endure each second. the hinges were quite loud, you heard the rusty creaking wood that reverbs throughout the room. his cock continued to pound into you as his body’s on top of yours, in full sync with your own sloppy movement.

you’re whimpering, your head already being smushed against the pillow as the undersides of his thigh start to feel minuscule pangs. “toru, toruuu,” you mewl out in a melodic whisper. he’s hitting you deep, your glossed lips part into a circle before you huff.

each strike of his hips felt more precise and brutal. . you wanted more, you wanted to feel him more.

“i know, i know,” he coos, thumbs circling around your waist as he holds you in place.

satoru’s hips were so sculptured and sharp that they give you whiplash every time. he’s got such power within each salacious strike that it makes your head spin. every single stroke, you’re left stupid and speechless with your tongue already dangling out of your mouth. the room grew steamy within a span of a few minutes. it smells like nothing but pure passionate sex.

by now, your eyes were rolling toward the very backs of your sockets in utter elated pleasure. you’re seeing nothing but splashes of ivory black and white. “aht aht. c’mere, don’t fuckin’ run sweetheart,” his voice was as smooth as silk. satoru feels your unsteady hips trying to crawl away but he reels you back in. “nuh uh. take it, take it, take it, girl.” he groans, his heavy hanging balls thwacking right against your ass within each pivotal thrust.

the band of his platinum-colored watch rubs off against your skin again—he’s watching you jerk back against him. his cock was so full, he licks his lips at the thought of your pretty pussy and how you were gonna wring him dry like you always do.

“fuck me, fuck me ‘toru,” your whimpering words were repeating itself over and over as if you were a broken record. the pit of your stomach coils as each second draws itself out before he’s grunting gruffly. your cunt’s sloppy, coating his base with sheeny amounts and globs of slick. white hairs from his neat pubes stick against his skin and satoru’s now grinding into you. “ah, right there, ngh please.”

“thaaaaat’s it pretty girl,” he snarls in a raspy voice, feeling the fat smacking stings of your ass jolt backward into his pelvis. “fuck me right back, mhm. gimme this pussy, make me proud baby.”

as he’s whispering all sorts of praises and dirty words, you can feel yourself reaching your limit soon — it’s so close.

a fluttering sensation brews up inside your stomach before satoru suddenly groans. “fuck,” his cock’s wholly stretching you out to your elastic limit before it meets that same textured spongey barrier again. he knows right away because your knees buckle, your breath grows quicker, and you let off another surprised shriek.

right there, x marks the spot after all and he was constantly hitting his tip there until you let out cute shrilling screams.

“goddamn, ‘m gonna cum, sweets,” and his voice grows more shakier the longer he’s inside.

it’s as if time stood still.

the constant rotation of swiveling gyrations from each angle, each body has your head spinning like a merri-go-‘round.

you were probably looking a dumb cock-drunk mess. unkempt strands of hair were already flopping down your face and occluding your view of vision entirely. satoru pierces his white brows together before lightly shoving you further into the mattress. as you’re cutely arched forward with your ass raised up, he leans way into your back, wrapping a hand softly around the back your throat.

“gonna fuckin’ give ya twins. one isn’t enough, pretty girl. need that tummy swollen ‘n plump s- so bad,” and he inches his lips toward your spine, still pumping into you deep. “gonna make you my pretty ‘lil mama.”

as he continued to spoke, you whine as his cock plummets into your wet sopping cunt over and over. it’s to the point where your ears recognize the slapping sounds of skin. the squelches your wet cunt made had him groaning.

he’s breathing in huge chunks of air as he’s merely crushing you with his weight. as you both robustly rut into each other in flawless unison, satoru’s hefty weight that hovers over you anchors into yours, slamming further into you.

“fuck, don’t stop, hngh,” and your words were as shaky as your chattering teeth.

he couldn’t keep his hands off you, literally.

sweaty open palms paw at every part of your body. near your doughy tits, your ass—his favorite part, and even your pretty plush thighs that were nearly gluing together. “satoru, satoru, pleaseee.”

“mhm, sweets..” his voice tremors and cracks before a sharp gasp wretches out of him. out of nowhere, you feel his hips come to an abrupt stop and he groans loudly.

it’s so loud that it’s an almost bellowing roar, both of his ears clank at the blissful sensations. satoru grows quiet once he feels it, that familiar pressure that’s been stored full inside him for the longest.

he’s cumming, and it’s so much, a slimy knot shoots out and freely dribbles into your inviting swollen cunt and he chews the inside of his cheek. “fuck m- me,” he stammers, still holding both sides of your rickety hips.

the room’s filled with husky pants and skin slapping until he’s slowing down - velvety stringy ribbons spurt into you raw until he’s hoarsely panting like a dog at the sight.

he can’t stop staring. such a mess, but you’re his mess. god, the way it just leisurely trickles inside of you, spilling all down the sides of your jittery folds because it can’t keep all of it in. the sounds were even more filthy, sloshing squeaks feels the room and he goes quiet just to get a good enough listen. satoru came so much—so so much that it lasted for a plethora of long obscene seconds. as he’s trying to get over his orgasm, he’s still chewing at the inside of his cheek, his face growing flustered. his hips become strikingly sloppy and he’s basically humping you. “god, have my fuckin’ kids, sweetheart. ugh,” and satoru’s as prettiest as he’s ever been.

with his lip dragging from his teeth biting near the bottom, his eyes scrunch shut and white brows curl up. huffing out a big deep exhale, he’s sweating bullets.

his thick calves felt like they were on fire but he didn’t have enough of you yet. there was never enough of you. you had him whipped—he’s allowing you to milk him, relishing in the fact that your sweet cunt was just wringing him dry to the max.

satoru steadies your hips with his quavery hands, peering down at the masses of sweltering hot cum that drips down your legs and he grunts. “s- satoru,” you shiver, gasping once he pulls out only to flip you right over.

“not done. still got so much more ‘ta give my pretty girl,” he breathes, and it’s a feral look in his eyes. satoru raises your leg up slowly, his rings tickling against your bare skin. “lie on your back. i fuckin’ need more.”

satoru fucks you for hours.

any position you could even think of, he’s doing it.

both stacked bodies glisten with sheets of sweat as they rut back and forth against each other, fingers merrily intertwined. he’s determined to get you pregnant and your moans only fuel him. the rowdy snaps of his vigorous hips only grew stronger.

his stamina, you’re blinking, wondering if he’s even human. despite the drops of perspiration tearing from the sides of his face and his heaving long breaths, satoru showed no signs of fatigue.

he was drilling his thick cock into you again and again—giving you orgasm after orgasm.

your toes curl as you’re trying to keep up with him but it’s to no avail. weighty balls continue to rigorously slam into your core as you’re currently in mating press. the compressing weight of satoru melting against you makes you whine.

he’s so warm, and with the way he’s breathing down your neck, babbling how he’s gonna make you the most prettiest mommy in the world makes your cunt throb. “you’re so pretty like this,” he moans into your neck, his thrusts becoming weak yet again.

globs of cum dribble from your pussy as he’s right between your thighs, his cock springing up. he hisses at the feeling, feeling your arms wrap around his back. satoru groans at the twinge near his extensor muscles that flex.

you gave him scratches that ran all down his back. he pays for your weekly manicures just so you can paint his back with scratches with your pretty acrylics.

his pretty girl.

you’re a stammering mess, plugged all the way up with such creamy thin ropes and your body was already limp. with his dick still delved inside, satoru grabs your chin—pressing another kiss against your lips. you moan, twisting and tangling your balmy hot tongue with his before he presses a hand down on your tummy. you whine in his mouth, skimming your crumped up fingers down his little undercut.

satoru groans at the feeling of your digits toying with the back part of his hair. “s- satoru,” you speak between kisses in short gasps for air. your ankle brushes up and down his back and it makes him grunt - your touch made him weak. “ ‘m so full, fuck.”

“yeah you fuckin’ are, sweetheart,” he licks near your bottom lip.

satoru’s body was so hot against yours, even while he was fully milked out he was still stuffing you full. the sheets were a mess, but he didn’t care in the slightest. his cerulean-blue eyes rove down towards your chest before he leans down. you stare at him, panting—and that’s when he latches his tongue against your neglected tits.

so perfect,

he makes sure to lather viscous strings of saliva on both of them, including your sensitive perky nipples. “mhm.” he groans, feeling your fingers fish through his white tangled strands. he’s sucking on each of your breasts with the most stupidest pussy drunken grin.

after a few seconds, he removes his spit-slick lips, a string of saliva following before he gazes up at you. with a sly worn out gaze, he cups both of your tits with his hands, giving them a good squeeze. “aw. my girls are gonna be full of milk soon,” and satoru kisses near your chin, your forehead, your cheek, and then finally, your lips.

you return the wet sultry kiss before he abruptly pulls away, holding your chin. “can’t wait to be a daddy, darlin,” he says in a gruff drowsy voice. you watch as he gradually pulls out, moving his head down toward your bare tummy. satoru presses a kiss near your navel before his eyes stare right back up at you.

“now let’s wait for this pretty ‘lil bump, hm?”

[happy74827]

Feels Like Home

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You decide to take it upon yourself to become best friends with Wade’s new grumpy addition to the family (much to Logan’s dismay).

WC: 2453

Category: Fluff, Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Logan trope {TW: Bar Fight, Handsy Drunk Dude, Mentions of Blood + Bruising}.

[Dedicated to: @iluvloganhowlett] I finished it for you!! (I’m shocked at the speed too don’t worry 💀). Hopefully this fluffiness will help add onto the low supply out there.

And incase anyone hasn’t seen it yet: DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

『••✎••』

You’ve always had a keen eye when it came to others. It’s mostly why you and Wade get along so well; you’re the one person who can see straight through him. And while it means you are very close, it also meant that you can easily tell when something is going on with someone you don't know that well, like the tall, brooding man named Logan, who had just joined the club of misfits.

You could tell by the way he carried himself that he had been through hell and back. He was quiet, grumpy, and had a tendency to snap at Wade, which, most of the time, was a well-deserved snapping.

You could also tell that there was more to him. He wasn't just a grumpy guy; there was something about him that made you want to be his friend. Maybe it was the sadness in his eyes, or maybe it was how lonely he looked.

Either way, you knew he was in need of a good friend, and you wanted to be that friend. Not a pestering one like Wade, but the kind of friend that just makes you feel a bit better.

So, when you spotted him, downing glass after glass of whiskey for the third day in a row, you just knew you had to help.

And he hated it. Oh, man, he absolutely hated it. You were such a happy ray of sunshine, always smiling, always laughing. He found it so fucking annoying. He couldn't deal with you and your constant positivity. It was like you were the PG-13 version of the breathing ballsack next to you.

But you wouldn't give up. Every time you saw him, you would try to cheer him up by making silly jokes, giving him small gifts, or even just sending him encouraging smiles.

He didn't want any of it, but it seemed you were too stubborn to listen. Every small note you’d given him was left crinkled in the trash; every gift was placed away without ever being touched. Your smile never got a response.

That is, until one day, as you walked by him, he mumbled something that almost made you trip over.

"Thanks."

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face him, a look of disbelief on your face. You had tried so hard to cheer him up for the past few weeks, and this was the only thing you got from him? You couldn't believe it.

You had spent so much time and effort trying to make him feel better, and this was all he could say to you?

You wanted to hug him. To scream to the skies and celebrate that he finally accepted your kindness.

You held the restraint to do so, though. You didn’t want to cause him to close off again, and so instead, you sent him a soft smile, and a small nod, before you resumed walking (running) to your friends.

The next day, however, you were met with the biggest surprise of your life.

Logan was sitting at the bar, drinking. He didn't look too different, still dressed in his trademark blue jeans and flannel shirt, but his face was still holding that sadness you had grown used to seeing on him.

You walked over to him and sat down beside him, that classic smile of yours plastered on your face.

"Hi!"

He groaned. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

"Nope!" You replied cheerfully, popping the 'p.'

He grumbled under his breath and downed the last of his drink, signaling to the bartender for another.

"Come on, Wolvie," you said, nudging his shoulder. "Lighten up. Life's not that bad, is it?"

He turned to glare at you, his dark brown eyes piercing into yours. "It's Logan," he said, his voice a low growl.

You shrugged and leaned closer to him, propping your elbow on the counter. This was the usual part—the part where he would give vocal responses while you carried on your one-sided conversation with him.

The difference this time, the surprise of it all, was when a person approached the both of you. Mind you, a very drunk person.

"Heyyyyy, baby girl," he slurred, his hand landing on your shoulder.

You turned to him, and he was looking you up and down with that gaze you knew had only one intention. You still smiled, though, and politely moved his hand off your shoulder.

"Uh, hi?" You answered unsurely.

He slammed his elbow on the counter, his palm on his fist. "You are gorgeous," he commented, and you had to hold back the laughter that was bubbling in your throat.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you paid him no mind. Usual behavior from him, nothing new.

"No, really," the stranger continued, moving his arm around your shoulders, "I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Well, I'm glad you think so," you answered, still chuckling. "But, I think you're a little drunk."

"Drunk on love," he responded, "Say, wanna get out of here? I'll show you a real good time."

Here comes the awkward part, you thought.

You shook your head, and removed his arm from around your shoulders. "Thank you for… uh, the kind offer," you answered, "But, no, thank you."

You expected him to shrug it off and leave or to just be a dick, as many drunken guys are. But no, this guy did not know how to take a hint.

Instead, he tightened his grip around you and pulled you closer to him, his free hand moving down your waist. "Come on, baby," he said, his words slurring. "You know you want to."

You sighed. You were really hoping it wouldn't have to come to this.

You were about to speak, to politely, yet firmly, tell him to leave you alone, but before you could open your mouth, a gruff voice beat you to it.

"She said no,"

He didn’t even look at the man or you. His eyes were still fixated on the counter as if he was talking to his glass, but he had turned his head a bit to the side so that you could hear him clearly.

The drunk stranger was startled by the sudden intervention. He let go of you and looked over at Logan, confusion clear in his face.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his brows furrowed.

"Does it matter?" Logan grumbled.

"Yeah, it does," the stranger retorted, his slurring voice suddenly getting serious. "If I'm gonna be having fun, I don't want an audience."

Oh, how you hated confrontations.

Logan just scoffed with a slight hint of a smile, shaking his head as he still refused to turn around.

"Trust me, pal," he replied, "I ain't interested in watching you do anything."

"Good." He went back to his obnoxious grin, now directing his attention back to you. Oh, man, he was an eyesore.

"So, how about it, beautiful? Wanna head somewhere else?" He slurred.

You were about to reply, again, with a polite rejection, but your shoulder was being grabbed at again, and if it wasn’t for the small training session that Colossus had put you through, you were sure you would have lost your footing.

"Can you let go of me, please?" You asked politely, but the man was a brick wall.

"Nah, sweetheart," he shook his head, and the movement was so intense, you could almost hear the alcohol sloshing around in his head, "You're comin' with me. Trust me, you’ll be perfectly taken care of."

That was when the sound of glass slamming against the counter reached your ears, and you didn't have to see the source of the sound to know it was Mr. Grumps.

What you struggled for what seemed like an eternity, he took that needy arm away from your shoulders within a fraction of a second. It was almost shocking how quick he was, but then again, you knew what he was capable of.

With you safe against the counter, Logan turned to face the stranger, his face still showing that same neutral expression as before, though his eyes held an intensity that made the man flinch.

Normal people would believe he had the patience of a saint. But you weren’t a normal person. You knew this was dangerously close to making him lose it.

"Uh, Logan… maybe we should—"

But your words fell on deaf ears. The only thing that Logan could hear was the weak excuses the guy was trying to give as he tried to pull his hand from the tight grasp Logan had it in.

"Hey, man," he stuttered, his words slurring as the panic set in, "What’s your problem? Let go of me!

But Logan had no intentions of doing so. He held the stranger's arm firmly, his grip growing tighter until he could hear a small crack coming from the guy's bones.

"What's your damage, huh?" the guy continued, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking. "It's just a little fun, right, baby?"

You cringed as his eyes fell back onto you, and the pleading tone of his voice was beginning to make your skin crawl.

"Look, uh," you started, looking anywhere but his eyes, "I don't think—"

"Listen," the man continued, and your eyes fell shut. God, he was just not going to stop. "Maybe you can join us? Huh, big boy? That’s what it is, right? You want her all for yourself?"

Uh, oh.

"Logan, don’t—"

It was too late. He had already snapped, and with a grunt, he pulled the man closer to him, his other hand forming a fist around his shirt.

"Wanna say that again?" He growled. "Do it. I dare you."

The man was trembling in his grasp, but he was clearly too drunk to understand the danger he was in.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you her boyfriend?" He taunted, and the fact that he had the guts to do so while his hand was in a painful hold was astonishing, even for you. "Or are you just some guy with a crush? Cause, honestly, it's pretty pathetic. You can't even ask her out."

His words had Logan seeing red, and before you could do anything, the guy was pushed away and was about to be on the receiving end of one of the strongest punches you've ever seen.

So, riskily, to protect yourself and him from being thrown out of his favorite place, you jumped off the stool and slid in between them as he launched his punch, just stopping inches away from your face.

"Please," you said, your palms up and in front of you, as if that would do anything to stop the rage he was feeling, "Please, calm down."

"Calm down?" He repeated, his voice rising. "Are you kidding me?"

"You need to let it go," you told him. "He's drunk, Logan. He doesn't know what he's saying."

"And, what," he retorted, his anger slowly fading away, "Does it look like I give a single fuck about that?"

You sighed, your eyes meeting his, and that was enough for him to finally give in. His clenched fist dropped, and he released a frustrated sigh.

The dude behind you started laughing, his voice sounding as if he was trying to make fun of a fight scene.

"So," he chuckled, "That's it, huh? You're not gonna do shit? You’re just as pathetic as a—"

He gently moved you aside, and in an instant, the man was lying on the floor with a bloody nose, a black eye, and a few broken ribs.

You could only hold your head in your hands, knowing very well the mess you were about to have to deal with.

And it didn't take long.

As soon as Logan stepped away from the drunk idiot, security was on him, grabbing his arms and restraining him. He couldn’t care less, though, as he held a sadistic grin on his face, pleased with his work while being escorted out.

And, so, there, the two of you were on the steps of the apartment building. You, holding your hands in your lap, and he, staring up at the night sky.

The air was warm, the city lights were dim, and the sky was covered in clouds. There was an odd silence between the two of you, which wasn’t really all that odd, but the events of the night had changed the atmosphere.

"Thanks," you spoke, breaking the quiet. "For, you know, standing up for me."

"He was a douche," he stated, his voice gruff. "Someone had to send that fucktart crying home to mommy."

"You shouldn’t have done that, though," you told him. "Now, you’re probably banned from the bar. I know it's your favorite."

"Eh," he shrugged, "Booze is booze. There are plenty more places to get drunk."

You didn't respond. Instead, you focused your attention on the small bugs flying around the dim light next to the door.

"You shouldn't be thanking me, anyway," he continued, turning to you. That was new. "I should be the one thanking you."

You looked at him, your brows furrowed. This whole conversation was getting weird. "Uh, what for?" You asked, confused.

"For putting up with me," he replied, shrugging.

"Putting up with you?" You repeated, not understanding. "I don't understand."

"Y'know," he continued, his gruff voice a little less gruff. "Sticking around. Being friendly. Having… patience. I can be…I can be a real dick. Honestly, I still don't get why you keep trying."

The smile that found its way to your lips waa the most genuine one he's ever seen. Your eyes were full of kindness and understanding, and your lips, which usually held a grin or a smirk, were turned upwards in a soft, gentle smile.

"Logan," you said, your voice low. "You may be a grump, and you might not be the friendliest guy, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve kindness. Everyone deserves that… or at least a little bit of it."

He scoffed. "That's funny," he replied, turning his head away.

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head, confused. "What is?" You asked.

"I used to think," he began, "That no one would ever look at me in the way you do. Not after what I’ve done… not after what I am."

"You're a good man, Logan," you told him. "You proved who you were when you willingly helped Wade."

"Maybe," he sighed, his gaze meeting yours. "But, there's still a lot you don't know about me. I'm not exactly a knight in shining armor."

"Oh, my dear, Wolvie," you said playfully, leaning closer to him and placing your palm on his shoulder, "You never were."

[avelera]

God, if it WAS a timeloop, if Arcane Jayce has been experiencing version after version of The Horrors of not stopping Hextech, if him shooting Viktor isn't "killing" it's the final act of attempt after attempt after attempt at SAVING HIM I will walk of a ledge I swear, it's all coming together, I am a "Jayce was trapped in a time loop" truther now, I'm losing my damn mind. There is no way Jayce killed his partner unless another Viktor told him to do it or he has tried so many times over and seen the consequences of not doing so that he's completely broken, or he just knows from all those other versions that this is not Viktor or it's the only way to actually save Viktor... anyway I'm officially chewing glass and losing my mind I take back every version of "that is not Jayce" I am now a "That IS Jayce several decades of trauma later, trauma caused by trying over and over to save the world and save Viktor" I think we're going to be repaid for all of our "The goodbye was too brief" or "There was no emotion when Jayce killed Viktor" with an ENTIRE SEQUENCE that is just all the emotions Jayce has been pouring into trying to fix all of this any other way

Tune in next week at the end of my psychological breakdown to see if I was right or just ridiculous!

[plutotheplum]

Felt Good About You

akaashi keiji x fem!reader

summary: delivering a revised manuscript to your editor turns into something more.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, post-time skip, oral sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, handjob, p in v

wc: 4.8k

a/n: i'm afraid i have the fattest crush on akaashi

also on ao3!

“The romance isn’t working.”

You groan when your editor pushes your manuscript for this week’s chapter towards you. You didn’t need any more bumps in the road, not when you were already running behind on deadlines, with the publishing company breathing down your neck to get the next volume out.

“The romance is fine, Akaashi” you mumble, flicking through the pages of the manuscript to skim through his notes.

“If it was fine, I wouldn’t be here,” he replies dryly.

Akaashi was as blunt as ever. Most of the time you appreciated his honesty, he was the reason for such success with your manga after all, but sometimes he managed to get on your nerves.

“It’s an unnecessary subplot,” he continues, flipping through a couple of pages to show you a few of the panels you had drawn, “there’s just no plausible progression between the two, no chemistry.”

You glare at him. He was really starting to get on your nerves. Akaashi rolls his eyes when he sees your glare, reaching out to flick your forehead.

“You’re already behind on the scheduled publishing date,” he reminds you, crossing his arms over his chest, “and I get the short end of the stick because I’m your editor.”

“The higher-ups love you,” you retort.

You stare pointedly at the small stash of awards that were tucked onto a shelf in his office, the small trophies and plaques a clear display of the company’s commendation for his work. 

“Not enough to let me work in the literature department,” he mutters bitterly.

“I’m right here!” you protest, an exasperated expression spreading across your face.

“Yeah, yeah,” Akaashi murmurs. 

He taps your manuscript a few more times before giving you a stern look.

“Get me the revised version by tonight, otherwise you’ll miss out on this week’s issue.”

You curse him under your breath, giving him one final glare as you gather the pages of your manuscript into your hands. You had come into his office thinking he’d been fine with the story, but now you had somehow ended up with more work than before, and an even tighter deadline.

- 

A few hours later, you end up finding yourself outside Akaashi’s apartment. Guilt had won out in the end, and you figured that it wasn’t fair to let him take the blame for your tardiness. Revised manuscript clutched against your chest, you ring his doorbell.

You can feel your throat dry when he opens up the door. His hair is damp, towel slung around the back of his neck. He’s wearing an old volleyball shirt with sweatpants, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to him looking so domestic. 

Akaashi stares at you blankly, clearly not expecting you. Usually you would’ve just emailed the revised manuscript over to him, not show up outside his door.

“I felt guilty,” you blurt out, cheeks flushing at the awkwardness in the air, “and- and I ordered gyoza so it should be here in a few minutes.”

“Right,” he says after a moment, “you didn’t have to.”

You stare at each other for a moment longer until he sighs, opening the door wider to let you in.

“You’re just as bad as Bokuto,” he informs you.

The mention of the pro-volleyball player makes a smile spread across your face. You had met Akaashi’s volleyball friends a few times when they had enlisted your help in throwing Akaashi a surprise birthday party - which had maybe ended up in a disaster - as well as when you had wound up to a few of their games.

“He’s a sweet guy,” you reply, handing him your manuscript.

Akaashi only hums in response, walking over to his desk. He hangs his towel on the back of his chair before sitting down. You watch as he slips his glasses on, examining the pages of your now edited work.

“I thought you’d try and fight me about the romance,” he murmurs, his pen making a few adjustments here and there. 

“Figured it wasn’t worth it,” you sigh, slumping on the couch in his living room, “you were right, as always.”

He peers over at you, his eyes narrowing as he watches the sulky look on your face. Despite your random bouts of laziness, even Akaashi had to agree that you were a good mangaka whose popularity had built up a loyal reader base. 

“Look,” Akaashi says, setting his pen down, “if you’re that hung up about cutting those scenes, start drafting it now.”

Your gaze shoots up to meet his eyes.

“Seriously?” you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. 

Akaashi was dedicated, sure, but he wasn’t exactly one to take on extra work. Sometimes  you felt as though he would’ve been right at home in the literature department, editing novels instead of volumes of manga. It was like he worked with you out of obligation, not enjoyment, despite the friendship you had built up over the years.

“Yeah,” he says, pushing his glasses up a bit further to sit better on the slope of his nose, “I’m serious.”

You don’t get to dwell any longer on your editor’s change in mind, the sound of the doorbell piercing through your conversation. Akaashi waves you away when you move towards the door, grabbing the delivered containers of gyoza himself. 

He sits down beside you on the couch, handing you one container whilst he takes the other. For some reason, you’re feeling more on edge than usual. The brush of his arm against yours has heat rising to your cheeks, body growing taut with the way your stomach is swirling with nervousness.

It was no secret that Akaashi was one of the most handsome men in the office, and you had maybe developed a tiny crush on the man, which was now inflating into something that was not so tiny, and much, much harder to control the more time you spent with him. 

“You okay?” Akaashi asks, peering over you.

You don’t trust yourself enough to reply which is why you stuff a gyoza into your mouth and nod rapidly.

Silence lapses over you both as you eat, but you can feel his eyes boring into the side of your head. You pretend not to notice, trying to engross yourself in the taste of the gyoza and the tang of soy sauce.

Akaashi slouches slightly, his body relaxing as time passes. You can see it in the way his shoulders drop, his thighs spreading as he gets more comfortable.

“Instead of adding romance as a subplot, why don’t you make it into another story altogether?”

You blink over at him, surprised. 

“I don’t have time to write another manga,” you say, shaking your head, “I’d have to find another publisher if I wanted to write something that was purely romance.”

“Shonen manga in the romance genre exist,” he replies, running his hand through his hair, “or you could just self-publish.”

You’d been hoping to avoid the topic of self-publishing. Sure, you knew of it, participated in it even. It’d been used as a creative outlet, to get out some ideas that you couldn’t work on when your success as a mangaka had grown. Besides, it wasn’t like you could tell Akaashi that you had drawn up stories that were, well, inappropriate. 

“But that would be too much work,” you sigh, trying to stop his train of thought.

Akaashi stares at you thoughtfully. The more you spend time with him, the more you begin to regret your choice to come here. Emailing the manuscript to him would’ve been the smarter choice, but you just had to feel sorry for the guy.

“I did read one the other day that had a similar art style to yours.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You can feel your composure slipping. There was no way he could know that you self-published stories that were practically panel after panel of porn. Maybe he enjoyed it? One thought leads to another and you find yourself imagining Akaashi with his hand wrapped around his cock, his head tipped back as he strokes himself.

“What was it about?” you manage to grit out, trying to see through the haze of your indecent thoughts.

“About a couple,” he says simply, “they ended up fucking.”

You can feel the hope swirling in your mind fade. Akaashi definitely knew. 

“Didn’t know you read that sort of thing.”

“I’m a man, aren’t I? Sometimes porn just doesn’t cut it. The story was pretty great too.”

He thought the story was great? You can’t help yourself from perking up, the compliment making you feel warm. 

“I just find it so strange,” he murmurs, leaning closer to you.

You swallow harshly, mustering up a smile with your trembling lips, “why’s that?”

“The author’s note,” Akaashi says, “the little bunny avatar was the same as yours.”

So, you had messed up. You spy the front door from the corner of your eyes. If you walked, you’d get there in about ten steps, but if you ran, you’d get there in about three - maybe two - strides. Sure, you wouldn’t ever be able to face Akaashi again, but you think you’d be fine with it. Report filed to the higher ups stating creative differences and you’d be able to find a new editor, no problem.

“It’s all probably just a coincidence,” you say nonchalantly, “plenty of people like bunnies.”

“Some of the dialogue was similar to yours, distinct writing and all that.”

You grit your teeth. The man didn’t know when to let go.

“Like I said, coincidence.”

“Right,” he says, nodding along, “a coincidence. Was it also a coincidence that the couple that had sex was a mangaka and her editor?”

You scramble to your feet when he says that. Letting out an awkward laugh, your cheeks heated with embarrassment, you decide that this is the best time to take your leave.

“Have- have a good night!” you say, voice pitching.

Determination has Akaashi’s eyes gleaming and now you’re bolting, feet nearly tripping over each other as you dart towards his apartment door. It seems as though fate isn’t in your favor tonight, Akaashi’s hand curling around your wrist as he catches onto you before you can open the door. You squeak when he slams his hand against the wall, right next to your head as he pushes you up against the door.

“Classic scene,” he murmurs, his eyes narrowing as he takes in your meek expression, “you always use it.”

“Fuck off, Akaashi!” you snap, pushing at his chest.

It’s a struggle, but you reach back behind you, hand grabbing blindly for the door handle. He doesn’t let you reach it, catching your wrist and pinning it against the door.

“You sure?” Akaashi asks, his eyes darkened, “or maybe you want me to fuck you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, mouth opening before closing again. There’s nothing left in you, no retorts, no words to get yourself out of this situation. He lets out a sigh when he feels your body relax, his hand on your wrist loosening as he lets go. You stare up at him, biting your lip nervously.

“You should’ve said something,” he says quietly, adjusting his glasses.

“And embarrass myself?” you mutter, picking at the wool of your sweater.

Akaashi doesn’t say anything, his hand smoothing up your hip and settling on your waist. Your eyes widen, arousal shooting through your body as he presses himself closer, his other hand finding your waist. Akaashi squeezes gently and you bite back a whine, eyes drooping slightly as he just squeezes and pets at your sides.

“It was good,” he says hoarsely, “the story, the details, the sex… came to it a couple of times.”

“You- you liked it?” you whisper, voice airy.

“Yeah,” he whispers back, his eyes meeting yours, “liked it… like you.”

Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your cheek, your heart thudding in your chest. You never dreamt it’d come down to this, but you find yourself grateful for Akaashi’s observational nature.

He takes his glasses off, placing them into his pocket. Akaashi’s lips drag across your cheek, pressing soft kisses against your skin. He kisses the corner of your mouth, lips brushing against yours gently. 

“Kiss me, Akaashi” you whisper, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Yeah,” Akaashi says softly, “yeah, I’ll kiss you, baby.”

A contented sigh escapes you as he slots his lips over yours, kissing you gently. The heat between you begins to grow, his hands slipping under your sweater to feel your bare skin. You gasp into his mouth, his hands surprisingly warm.

Akaashi smiles against your lips, his hand running up your back as his kisses turn hungrier, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. You let him lick into your mouth, tugging at his hair desperately. Rocking up onto the tips of your toes, you deepen the kiss, pulling him impossibly closer. 

He wraps his arms around your waist, groaning when your nails scratch his scalp fleetingly. You bite your kiss-swollen lip as he drags his lips down your neck, landing heated kisses to your skin.

Akaashi kisses the pulse of your throat, his lips finding their way back to yours. Soft pants fill the air, his smile hazy as he peers down at you. You smile back, head tilting to the side to let him kiss your cheek again.

“You’re such a dork,” he whispers, his eyes twinkling.

“Shut up,” you whine, pushing at his chest.

He grins, his hands grasping yours. Akaashi pulls you away from the door, his arms wrapping around the backs of your thighs as he picks you up. You laugh, legs wrapping around his waist, lips pressing against his as he carries you to his bed.

Akaashi lays you down on his bed and you watch with half-lidded eyes as he pulls his shirt off. He might not have played as competitively like he did in highschool, but you had been there when he had played with his friends. It’d been entrancing to watch the way he had set the ball for his friends, the ball curving through the air cleanly for the spiker to hit.

“‘s not fair how good you look,” you grumble, pouting.

He rolls his eyes, crawling onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.

“You look pretty good yourself,” Akaashi says, his fingers playing with the hem of your sweater.

You lift your arms for him, letting him pull it off of you. His gaze fixes on the swell of your breasts and you flush, looking away.

“You’re shy now?” He murmurs, a soft laugh escaping him as he kisses your jaw.

“You’re such a jerk,” you huff out.

Akaashi smiles and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to be truly angry with him. He’s patient more than anything, caring and always honest. You’ve never met a man like him, never met someone who could quell your worries the way he could. It makes you want to never let go.

His body settles between your thighs, his nimble fingers pulling your bra free. Your nipples pebble in the cold air and Akaashi leans forward, his hot, wet mouth enveloping a hard bud into his mouth.

You whine brokenly, back arching slightly as he sucks your nipple, tongue swirling around the bud. He groans as you run your fingers through his hair, his mouth suctioning around your breast for a few moments before he pulls off with a pop.

His mouth finds your other breast, kissing the side of it, mouthing at your skin. You can feel his tongue caress the underside of it, laving across your breast before he bites gently at your flesh, his half-lidded eyes meeting yours. 

“You’re a fuckin’ tease,” he whispers against your breast.

You shake your head, mewling when his hand slides up, his fingers pitching at your spit-coated nipples. He rests his head between your breasts, watching you contentedly as you writhe under the onslaught of his touches. 

“A- Akaashi,” you whimper, hips bucking, “want- want more, please.”

“So polite, baby” he coos, his hands groping at your breasts. 

He pulls away from you and you whine, lifting your hips for him when he peels your pants off. There’s a moment of silence and you’re anticipating the feel of his mouth on your body, only for him to let out a low laugh. 

“Bunnies til the end, huh?” Akaashi asks, his fingers playing with the waistband of your panties.

Your brows furrow, not quite sure what he’s talking about until you prop yourself on your elbows and see that you’re wearing a pair of bunny-patterned panties.

“Oh, fuck off,” you groan, slumping back down onto the bed and slinging your arm over your eyes.

“They’re cute,” he smiles, prying your arm away from your face, “just like you, baby.”

Akaashi grasps one of your legs, bringing it to his mouth as he runs his hand along the length of it, kissing the sole of your foot and then your ankle. A soft hum leaves you, watching as he kisses up your leg, his kisses feather-light.

You run your fingers through his hair as he kisses the little bow on your panties, his nose pressing between your clothed folds to breathe you in.

“Pussy’s soaked through,” Akaashi murmurs, pulling back to look at your dampened panties.

“‘s your fault,” you slur, trying to push his face back to where you want it.

“All my fault,” he agrees, his tongue licking up over your panties, “guess I’ll have to take care of you then.”

You nod, trying to stop the little twitches that shoot through your body. Akaashi lets his mouth latch onto you, trying to suck the slick that’s soaked through the fabric of your panties.

“A- ah!” you pant, fingers fisting his hair as he squeezes your hips, his face nuzzling deeper between your thighs.

Akaashi’s lithe fingers pull at your panties, dragging them down your thighs. You don’t miss the way he tucks them into his pocket.

“Always so pretty, baby” he whispers, his thumbs pulling apart your folds to expose your pussy.

He moans when he sees the translucent strings of arousal that cling to your folds, his tongue darting out to lick up the little strings. You whimper when he kisses your clit gently, watching as he rubs the pad of his thumb against your swollen clit. Thighs twitching, you shift, trying to tilt your hips a little higher so you can feel his mouth on you.

“Ask for it,” Akaashi says, his cheek pressing against your thigh as he stares up at you.

“‘m not- ‘m not asking for it,” you retort, glaring at him.

“Bet it’d feel good,” he whispers, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

You whine when he just keeps his tongue there, saliva dripping from the tip of it and onto your pussy. He makes an obscene noise, gathering some more saliva, spitting on your cunt.

“All you gotta do is ask,” he coaxes, his arms wrapping around your thighs, “clit looks so achy… makes me wanna kiss it better.”

“P- please,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“Didn’t quite catch that,” Akaashi smiles up at you, his eyes twinkling.

You’ll have to get him back for his teasing later, but right now you can’t wait.

“Please lick my pussy!”

You squeal when he latches his mouth onto you again, his tongue lapping over your wet pussy. He groans and you tug at his hair, thighs squeezing around his head as he laves his tongue over you greedily, letting his tongue dip into your hole before he sucks your clit into his mouth.

Legs kicking out, you let out a strangled noise as he flicks his tongue over your clit. Akaashi lands the filthiest kisses to your clit, alternating between sucking and little pecks, while he’s sunk two fingers inside of you. They curl up inside of you, grazing your sensitive spot perfectly. He fucks his fingers in and out of you, your wanton noises filling his bedroom.

Akaashi presses his face deeper, his fingers crooking. The feeling of his mouth in tandem with his fingers has you whimpering and whining, airy noises spilling from your lips at his ministrations. You might not ever be able to go without him ever again.

He holds you in place as you thrash, the overwhelming feeling inside of you building and building. Akaashi slips his fingers out of you in favor of devouring your cunt again, licking through your velvety folds, his tongue swirling before he presses it inside of you. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he growls. 

You blink down at him dazedly. There’s a light flush covering his cheeks, his mouth glistening with your wetness. He opens his mouth to say something else but you ignore him, pushing his head so that his lips are flush against your cunt. Akaashi lets out a muffled laugh against your pussy, his tongue licking over you again.

Hand squeezing at your breast, you bite your lip, losing yourself in the caress of his tongue. He laps over you, again and again, pressing sloppy kisses to your clit. 

“Gonna come,” you whisper, feeling the softness of his hair under your palm, “gonna come, ‘kaashi.”

He tilts your hips a little more, rising up onto his knees with your legs slung over his shoulders. You squeal again when he shakes his head, tongue dragging from side to side before he plunges it inside of you, his thumb pressing against your clit at the same time.

Your thighs squeeze tightly around his head as you come, loosening after a while when twitches rack through your body. Akaashi squeezes your thighs, lets your legs slip from his shoulders as he kisses your trembling thighs. 

“Good girl,” he whispers.

Akaashi kisses your cheek and wipes the stray curls of your hair away from your face. A soft sheen of sweat covers your body and he hums, smoothing his thumbs over the underside of your breasts.

He lays down beside you and you curl up beside him, eyes catching on the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Need some help?” you murmur, fingers dragging down his chest.

“If you don’t mind,” he sighs, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him.

You smile, kissing his jaw gently as your hand slides past his navel, disappearing into his sweatpants. The weight of his cock is heavy and hot and Akaashi moans softly when your hand curls around his length.

“Ask for it, ‘kaashi,” you whisper, voice lilting.

“You’re such a brat,” he mutters.

“Use your manners, Keiji.”

His eyes widen when you use his name and you grin, landing a soft kiss to his cheek as your breasts squish up against his bicep. You squeeze around his cock and he lets out a soft whine, his hips bucking.

“Fuck- fuck hah-,” Akaashi grits out, “stroke my cock, baby, hm? Please?”

You hum softly, beginning to move your hand. His thick cock twitches as you stroke him, your wrist rotating.

He pants softly, his head turning to meet yours. You smile, running your fingers through his hair, brushing the soft strands out of his eyes. Affection bursts inside of you, heart fluttering as the flush on his cheeks deepens.

His brows have drawn together and you smooth your thumb over them, peppering soft kisses over his face, leg slinging over his as you pull down his sweatpants to free his cock completely. Akaashi’s cock has filled out, pre-cum smearing across his abdomen. You caress the head of it, giggling when he lets out a broken moan as you rub your thumb against the tip.

“You look so handsome,” you say, stroking his cock a little faster.

Akaashi smiles and you dip your head, kissing him. He groans, his hips chasing after the feeling of your hand around him as you kiss. Your hand tightens a little, squeezing at the tip of his cock. Pre-cum wets your hand, soft gasps escaping Akaashi as you let your tongue slip into his mouth.

“Keiji,” you whisper, lips brushing over his, “Keiji, will you fuck me?”

You squeak in surprise when he manages to grab onto your waist, lifting you up and placing you on his lap. His cock is snug between your folds and you whine, dragging your hips along the length of it, biting your lip as more pre-cum leaks from him.

“Sit on my cock, baby” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your thighs.

You nod, shifting a little so that you’re up on your knees. Akaashi watches as you grip the base of his cock, moaning when you rub his cock against your pussy, letting it catch on your clit. Akaashi’s head tips back as you sink down, whimpery, little noises leaving you as your pussy swallows up his cock.

It’s so thick inside of you, fitting so snugly that you clench around him. Akaashi wraps an arm around your waist, bringing your front flush against him. He lets you tuck your face into the crook of his neck, his arms tightening around your waist. You can feel him move, his feet flat against the bed as he bends his knees.

“K- Keiji!” you wail when he begins to fuck up into you.

Akaashi grunts, holding you against him as he moves his hips, rutting up into you. His hands grope at your ass, gripping your ass tightly as he moves a little more forcefully. You bury your face deeper into the crook of his neck, pressing sloppy kisses against his skin as you smooth your hand over his hair. 

“Is this- fuck,” Akaashi grits out, “is this what you imagined when you drew up those panels?”

You nod, too far gone to cling onto the remnants of your stubbornness. 

“Yeah?” he whispers, “imagined me fucking up into you, huh?”

“Y- yes!” you cry out, body squirming when he lands a heavy spank to your ass.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he growls.

A soft mewl leaves you at the praise, your hips swaying back lazily to meet his thrusts. The sound of his hips slapping into your ass echoes through his room, your wetness leaking around his cock and coating his balls.

Your body rocks against his, your hand gripping at the sheets beside his head when he adjusts his grip on you, planting his feet a bit firmer against his mattress to thrust into you harder. You gasp at the sensation, sinking your teeth into his shoulder when his cock hits deep inside of you.

Akaashi hisses at the feeling of your teeth, spanking your ass again before you clench around him with a scream, body shuddering on top of his as you come. 

“Baby, baby, you gotta let go,” he rasps.

You shake your head stubbornly, pushing your hips down so that it swallows his cock all the way to the base.

“Inside, Keiji.”

He groans, his hands kneading at your hips roughly. You can feel the twitch of his cock, a satisfied coo leaving your lips when he comes, spurts of his hot cum filling you up. Akaashi’s hips stutter, thrusting into you unevenly as his cock jerks, more cum flooding your pussy.

You both pant, chests heaving. Akaashi rubs his hand along your back and you emerge from the crook of his neck, a drunken smile on your face.

He laughs hoarsely at your expression, cupping your cheek to guide you into another kiss while his cock softens inside of you. It’s a little uncomfortable, but you don’t mind, losing yourself in the heat of his body as cum leaks from your pussy.

“How long have you known?” you ask, tracing the slope of his nose.

“About a month,” he murmurs.

“A month?” you scoff, hitting his chest, “and you didn’t say anything?”

Akaashi grins, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips to kiss across your knuckles.

“That would ruin the fun.”

You roll your eyes, prodding your fingers into his chest, “it was hardly fun, Keiji.”

“But you got what you wanted, didn’t you?” he whispers.

You laugh when he flips you onto your back, moaning softly when you feel his cock beginning to harden again inside of you.

“Put- put your glasses on,” you whisper, head tipping back as he rolls his hips into you.

Akaashi reaches over to dig his glasses out from the pocket of his discarded sweatpants, pushing them up to sit comfortably on his nose.

You clench around him at the sight, biting your lip as you give him a pleased smile.

“Knew you had a thing for ‘em.”

He grabs at your legs, moving them so that they’re pressed against his chest, your ankles resting on his shoulders.

“Use this as inspiration, baby,” Akaashi smirks, “I’ll even edit it for you.”

[mystra-midnight]

— CALL ME LITTLE SUNSHINE | part i

pairing: rockstar ! eddie x innocent ! reader

tags: pet names. dirty talk. making-out. fingering. oral; (fem receiving). marking; (hickeys). loss of virginity. corruption kink. semi-public sex. eddie is entirely pussy whipped.

w/c: 6.7k.

a/n: welcome to part one! it's been a hot minute since i've posted anything as thought out and in-depth as this so if you could take a few minutes to reblog or comment some feedback, i'd very much appreciate it. ♥

"Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin!"

The ever-growing crowd had been calling for the band the entire time you'd been waiting in line, which, after looking at the watch tucked beneath the sleeve of your cardigan, had been almost an hour and a half. The chanting had gotten so loud that, at some point, you'd stopped being able to hear yourself think, instead relying on Steve's large hand clasped around your own to tell you when to shuffle forward.

You felt out of place, unlike Steve and Robin. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in leather and chains; piercings here, there, and everywhere; fishnets; big black platform boots; heavy make-up; and tattoos. And then there was you, dressed in a simple summer dress, hugging a knitted cardigan around your shoulders, wearing strappy sandals, and looking like someone right out of the Stepford Wives.

Other people noticed; you'd swear it, though no one said anything. As you looked between people, you caught a few of them looking at you, their expressions a motley of emotions that made you shift uncomfortably. Metal music had never been a particular favourite of yours, and concerts like this—where people were packed in like sardines—definitely weren't your preferred scene. The thought of being alone, snuggled beneath a blanket, and enjoying a glass of Moscato was much more appealing.

But you'd promised Steve and Robin that you'd come.

Well, no, not exactly. You hadn't promised either of them anything; instead, you'd given in to their constant whining. Steve and Robin had hung themselves from your legs as though they were dramatic, tantruming toddlers, pouting, and begging you to go with them. And after promising to cook dinner every night for a week—no, wait, a month!—your resolve finally broke.

That was how you found yourself finally walking through the double doors of the stadium. A gust from the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, blowing your hair into your eyes and lip gloss, but it was a welcomed relief.

"I think that took literally forever." Your feet were already aching, and the thought of standing for another two hours was mentally and physically exhausting. Sure, you'd listened to some of Corroded Coffin's songs and thought they were good, but you weren't looking forward to standing in a sweaty crowd.

"Right. That was crazy, and they only have two scanners going. It's going to take forever to get everyone inside." Steve replied. His fingers tightened around yours when he felt your strides slowing, and he turned to notice your attention was on the merchandise display a few feet away. Following your gaze, he found the band tees hung up on a pinboard, images pressed onto the fronts and backs of each one. Some showed the band's tour dates and the cities they were scheduled to stop in, while others had stylised versions of Eddie's face.

Steve practically beamed with pride. He was proud of how far Eddie had come since they'd met—from school freak to famous rockstar. It was a big change, but a well-deserved one, given all the shit he'd been through. Somehow, he'd remained modest and hadn't forgotten where he'd come from; he'd gotten his uncle out of the trailer and into a two-bedroom apartment; he thanked his uncle and friends during every interview; he'd even forgiven his childhood bullies, though he never forgot what they'd done to him.

"Come on," he said while tugging your hand. "We should get in before the show starts," he said when you hesitated, teeth tugging on your lower lip as you continued to eye the shirts, bandanas, and posters on display. It was called the Upside Down Tour, and the band had released a limited-edition shirt for the tour.

"I want to get a shirt; this is the first concert like this I've ever been to. I want something to remember it." You explained. You wriggled your fingers in his, hinting that you wanted him to let go. If you'd have blinked, you might have missed it, but you swore that Steve and Robin shared a look—the kind that carried secret conversations and amusement.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, painful and sudden, while your mind raced to a dozen terrible thoughts. What if they regretted bringing you along, even though they'd practically begged you to go? What if they were angry? Fuck, what if they hated you? You must have looked like you were about to pass out because Steve took pity on you, reassuringly squeezing your hand as he stepped closer.

"Shit, sorry," he apologised with a crooked smile. "It's all good. We can pick one up after the show, okay? We need to get inside before security locks the doors."

"Oh," you answered. You ducked your head to hide your face, which felt like it was burning with embarrassment. You suddenly felt childish for letting your anxiety get the better of you, especially given that this was Steve and Robin, who had been nothing but kind from the moment you'd first met them. "Of course. After the show."

As though she sensed your distress, which she more than likely did because you radiated emotions like the sun radiated heat, Robin grabbed your other hand, lacing her fingers with yours, and gave you a sympathetic smile that mimicked the one on Steve's face. You loved them, but sometimes you hated them. So often, Robin and Steve seemed to be on the same page, on the same mental wavelength, having entire conversations with the lofting of a brow or half-smirk while you were on your own, a stranger looking in.

You tried not to think about it and tried desperately not to let negative emotions get the better of you tonight. You were at a concert with two amazing people, about to see a fantastic band play live. It was going to be a good night. Steve showed his ticket to one of the women managing the traffic flow, who motioned down a steep staircase into a standing pit right in front of the stage.

As you predicted, the crowd was already massive; there were too many people to fit comfortably within the stadium, but no one would complain as long as everyone behaved. And everyone would behave if they were able to see the band play. It wasn't long before the lights went down, and the crowd's cheering rose to a thunderous crescendo.

You felt the violent vibrations of the bass guitar as the bassist began the opening rift—how it rattled the ivory cage around your lungs until your entire body swayed to the rhythm. A sudden fireworks explosion dazzled and blinded you as the crowd rushed forward. Then the atmosphere turned electric, casting a weaving web on the crowd and drawing them in.

When the smoke settled, you saw the band had taken their places on stage, dressed in black denim, leather, chains, tattoos, and wild hair. They preened beneath the attention of their peers as the frontman and lead singer, Eddie Munson, moved to stand before a microphone. "I hope you're ready to rock, Hawkins, 'cause we're not stopping until the cops come knocking!"

Steve grabbed your wrist and dragged you in front of him, pushing you closer to the stage. That was how you found yourself standing front and centre. One of his hands grabbed your hip firmly, ready to break the fingers of any other wandering hands. He wrapped his other arm around Robin's shoulders, holding her to him as they sang along to a song you didn't know the words to.

It wasn't your proximity to him or the bruising grip of his fingers that warmed your blood, but the singer on stage. You'd seen pictures of Eddie in the trashy magazine you picked up from the gas station occasionally; each one seemed to be a different headline, each as scandalous as the last. Corroded Coffin's singer caught with another woman? Eddie Munson, Satanic Priest! Some of them were ridiculous, and none of them had been particularly entertaining, especially when, in every interview, he seemed humble, perhaps even flustered by the fame.

The sight of him on stage sent heat dripping down your cheeks and into your neck, spiralling through your veins to gather at your core.

He looked like a devil but had the face of an angel—wild curls bounced around his face, you caught glimpses of his inked skin, and there was a perfect trail of hair on his abdomen. He strummed at his guitar strings as though it were his lover, plucking the cords with perfectly practised movements. You wondered what else his fingers could do, and a wild blush crept into your face.

As though your thoughts weren't mortifying enough, he seemed to have noticed. His eyes found yours in the crowd, as if he could see straight into your brain and was plucking the fantasies from your mind.

The world slowed to a crawl and faded until it was just the two of you and your racing thoughts. You drank in the sight of him. You caught glimpses of his tattoos, watched how droplets of sweat rolled down the hollow of his throat as the heat of the stage lights bore down on him, and watched how his lips moved as he sang, the rasps of his voice enough to make you tremble.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth, almost afraid to look away; you wanted this moment to go on forever and ever. But as abruptly as it began, the fantasy ended when he looked out across the crowd, and as he did, the world snapped back into place. Your heart was racing, and your breath was erratic.

You felt silly having been caught up in such an intense moment with a perfect stranger, even if he was handsome and famous—a perfect mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment. You glanced at Robin and Steve, hoping they hadn't noticed your captivated state. They hadn't.

The two were still singing and enjoying the music, bouncing up and down as a guitar solo swept through the speakers. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you looked back at the stage, trying valiantly to refocus on the music. After a while, the guitar's pounding bass and electrifying energy were enough to pull you back into the moment.

You felt captivated, as though whatever dark spell he was weaving had fallen upon you, too. His performance was filled with raw emotion and a rebellious spirit, with the lyrics resonating with something deep inside you, echoing your desires, and enticing a wildness to spark in your veins.

You stole another glance at him, and his eyes again met yours. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to connect you two in a chaotic sea of people. With a sudden burst of courage you didn't think yourself capable of, you gave a bashful smile and lifted your hand, waving at him.

He saw and acknowledged you with a knowing smile, to your surprise and amusement. It felt like a dirty secret. You would swear that your face was on fire from how hard you were blushing, your fingers wringing together nervously at the front of your dress.

It seems silly. In fact, you knew it was silly, childish, and stupid.

You didn't know him, and he didn't know you. You knew the media's version of him—the stylised rockstar who'd grown up poor, defied the odds, and came out on top—the playboy who had a different girl every other week and who'd been caught having sex with fans in odd places. But what you'd felt, however brief, had ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. You felt it smouldering as you were lost in the music and its wild energy.

The last guitar riff played, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. You expected the crowd to thin down now that the show was finished, but they remained, hooting and hollering, vying for his attention.

"He was incredible!" You shouted as you turned to Steve, straining to be heard above the crowd. He gave you a funny expression and tilted his head to the side, causing a stir of hair to fall into his face.

"What?" 

"I said," you shouted while moving closer to him. "That was incredible!"

This time, he heard you, chuckling under his breath and holding you in place when you tried to slip through the crowd. And then you saw Eddie standing at the edge of the stage, a security guard at his side. You could see they were talking, now if only you'd learned to read lips. Except you didn't need to read lips to know he was pointing right at the three of you.

Your heart stopped mid-beat, your mouth running dry, as a second security guard approached the three of you. From where you were frozen in time, you didn't see Steve and Robin grinning at each other or the glint in their eyes.

You were star-struck, staring at the security guard as if he'd grown a second head. And he might as well have because things like this didn't happen. Maybe it happened in the movies, but not real life and you weren't some perfectly poised beauty. You were a real woman with feelings; they were all over the place right now.

You grabbed Steve's arm when he stepped away, pulling him to a stop. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow. "What the hell is going on?" you hissed at him, not angry but entirely surprised and uncertain. He gave you a dashing and daring smile.

"Think he just invited us backstage."

"What?"

You'd tried to convince yourself that this was a wild dream. You even pinched yourself—twice. Things like this didn't happen to ordinary people, especially people like you. The shy woman who had to have a drink in her hand, the woman who took sips to fill the silence when talking became overwhelming, the woman who stammered and blushed with little more than a wink from a handsome man.

But it was happening. And now there you were, backstage, with Steve and Robin at your side, staring at a door with the band's name written in block letters. You could hear people milling about inside.

The security guard knocked, and you heard the muffled sound of movement, followed by something being knocked over and a chorus of laughter. Finally, the door was hauled open.

"Eddie!"

Robin's outburst startled you. She pushed past you and Steve, then the security guard, and threw herself at the man. You gawked at them, eyes wide as your soul burst to life, heart skipping several beats when he spun her in a circle. Robin's feet didn't touch the ground as they laughed. 

You couldn't believe it.

There, standing not even five feet away, was the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie-fucking-Munson—the very same man you'd been eye-fucking on stage not even an hour ago. A part of you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you whole. Another part screamed at you to cling to him as Robin had done.

"Hey," Steve whispered, leaning slightly closer to your ear. "Are you doing okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"What?" You replied, your voice rising an octave in panic. Your gaze whirled between Steve and the duo, who seemed oblivious to your presence, and then back again. "Yes, well, no! You didn't tell me you knew him!"

"Who? Eddie?" He asked.

"That guy, right there, the famous guy hugging our friend?" You were incredulous, your arm flailing in their direction, much to Robin's amusement and Eddie's confusion. "Yes, him! You two know him?"

"What about Eddie?"

The sudden appearance of his voice made you squeak in surprise. His voice was dark, deep, and delectable, like chocolate, and hoarse. It felt like liquid heat pouring down your spine, flooding every intersecting bone until you trembled. Eddie smiled, and his cheeks dimpled in a way that had you blushing wildly.

You stared as Steve and Eddie swept each other into a bear hug, slapping each other on the back and again on the arm as they came apart. Robin gave you a playful poke in the side, bringing your attention back to her.

"What about Eddie?" She asked, which inevitably brought all of their attention to you. You shifted beneath the weight of their combined stare. Your eyes found Eddie's, and you looked away quickly.

"Yeah, what about Eddie, girl?" He playfully added.

"Nothing! It's just that—um—well, I didn't know you—uh—that they knew you. That's all." You say, stumbling over the words like an awkward teenager. You mentally kicked yourself, but in truth, you'd never been good at talking to people. You'd always been a little shy, and everyone made fun of you before Steve and Robin slowly started coaxing you out of your shell.

And it wasn't as though he knew you. He probably hadn't seen you in the crowd. Now that you think about it, Eddie was just as likely to be smiling at them, not you, when he was on stage. But that didn't do anything to pull the blush out of your face or stop the way you shuffled under the gaze of the trio.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said with an awkward laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Your eyes went a little buggy when his shirt rode up, revealing that trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his jeans.

You looked away quickly before he could catch you staring, finding something on the wall that suddenly fascinated you. He didn't notice, or at least didn't say anything if he did. "Yeah, yeah, the three of us went to high school together. It seems like a lifetime ago."

Robin stared at him, her expression incredulous. "It was, like, five years ago, Eds. Don't you dare make me older than I am!" She said as the back of her hand connected with his stomach. Eddie huffed as he doubled over dramatically, clutching his stomach and coughing as though she'd just punched the air from his lungs. You laughed despite yourself, momentarily drawing his attention to you; he flashed you a dazzling smile before hustling the three of you inside. 

It would have been spacious inside the room if it wasn't filled with boxes of merchandise, band equipment, and the rest of the band. The little composure you'd managed to hold onto disappeared when Steve and Robin rushed inside, similarly greeting the others, hugging and laughing like old friends. 

You lingered at the door, unsure what to do with yourself, when you felt a hand against the small of your back, fingertips tapping just above the curve of your ass, high enough to be respectful but low enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. They don't bite," Eddie said with a laugh before leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, the warmth of it making you shiver as he caught a glimpse of your cleavage before you hugged your cardigan around yourself. 

"Well, I might," he added. "If you ask nicely."

He didn't wait to see your reaction, but from the beaming smile plastered on his face, he'd heard your squeak of surprise. Instead, Eddie flounced into the room, joining Steve, Robin, and the others as you followed.

Once official introductions were made, you sat at the end of one of the couches next to Eddie, who seemed entirely unaware of your nervous inner turmoil. Occasionally, his thigh brushed against yours, jostling you in his excitable state as the group recalled their high school years.

"You were quite the ladies' man in high school, Steve. Don't act bashful now," the drummer, Gareth, said with a booming laugh. You found yourself smiling and laughing with him, amused by the way Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and tried to deflect. 

"I remember Robin telling me that the girls used to call him King Steve." You added. Gareth howled with laughter at how Steve flushed a deeper shade of pink. You smiled at him, pretty and sweet, but should have known he wouldn't let that slight go unanswered. You hardly had time to steel yourself before he returned fire.

"Hey now," he said, his smile positively devilish. "Don't start throwing shade if you can't handle the sun, sweets. Because I could tell some stories about you, too. Well, no, I couldn't. I don't think I've ever heard those bed springs squeak."

You choked on a mouthful of beer, coughing as you glared at him in horror. "Steven Joseph Harrington!" Your face burned at the revelation of a secret you'd shared with him one drunk and wild night. Using his full government name was enough for him to know he'd crossed a line, but the laughter of his friends encouraged him.

"I can't help it if that's the truth, you know," he said with a shrug.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Eddie shouted, shaking his hand wildly to get everyone's attention, especially yours. You squirmed in your seat, pushing yourself hard against the arm of the couch to try and escape his intense stare when he rounded on you. 

"Never? As in never, ever?"

At that moment, you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you. It wasn't that you were embarrassed to be a virgin, but the attention made you uncomfortable. You'd never been the type of woman to want a one-night stand with a stranger. Steve had offered once when you'd both been drunk and confessing secrets, but you'd never felt the itch.

And it wasn't that you considered your virginity to be a cherished and sacred part of yourself. But you'd never wanted to be that vulnerable with someone unless you trusted them entirely. 

"Bullshit." Eddie spat, not nasty, but disbelieving. "You've gotta be shitting me. A pretty thing like you hasn't ever had sex? I know you're lying."

You stared at your hands resting in your lap, fingers wringing the hem of your dress until the stitching threatened to fray. From across the room, you heard the vague sound of Robin talking, mumbling something about you being as ripe as a cherry. She purposely popped her lips, and you wanted to die.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to choke out. "Yes, okay, I'm a total virgin. Can we talk about something else, please?"

The universe appeared to take mercy on you because the conversation changed topics at breakneck speed. One moment, Eddie was gawking at you; the next, he was focused entirely upon Jeff, who'd bought up something called the Hellfire Club. You took the opportunity to down the rest of your beer, letting the flavour of it wash away the taste of embarrassed tears.

The night went on in relative peace. You drank with them, listening to their wild stories of high school shenanigans and offering your own when prompted. You hadn't realised how much time had passed until you glanced at your watch and gawked: two in the morning.

"So, never?" Eddie asked without warning, his voice soft and almost innocent, breaking the silence that had blossomed within the room. You pulled your cardigan around your shoulders as though the thin material could shield you from his gaze. The others had fallen asleep, either drunk or high or just beyond exhausted. It was just the two of you.

Just you and Eddie.

"Look," you said with a sigh, your face burning again. "I really don't want to talk about that."

He held his hands in the universal sign of hold up. "I'm not judging you, sweetheart. I'm just curious. A pretty thing like you has to have a trail of broken hearts behind her."

You laughed despite yourself and relaxed back onto the couch, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. He was so close that you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, the way he traced his lips with the tip of his tongue, the way the fabric of his jeans stretched across his lap, the bulge there. . .

You snapped your head away when he caught your staring.

"It's not like that. I've had boyfriends. I've just never felt comfortable doing anything with them. Not that they were bad people. I didn't want to do it because everyone was doing it. Then I got busy, and dating stopped happening. You understand? Of course you do. You're famous; I doubt you have much time for dating. Not that anyone wouldn't want to date you."

You were rambling, the words falling from your lips like verbal vomit, and you couldn't stop. Eddie silenced you, moving without warning to close the distance lingering between the two of you. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, his fingers rough and warm, pulling you into the wall of his chest so that he could slot his mouth against yours.

Eddie Munson tasted like cigarette smoke and alcohol, dark desire wrapped in leather. Eddie Munson smelled like adrenaline and sex, a woman's wet dream. Before you knew what you were doing, you kissed him back, desperate for more.

Eddie led you into an adjacent room, his fingers enveloping yours, providing a comforting anchor. The soft snores of the others faded into a distant hum as he closed the door. Your gaze traced the contours of his back, the curve of his shoulders, the way his studded jacket draped over them, the weight of his chunky black boots and the ruggedness of his ripped jeans. The belt cinched around his narrow waist, crowned with a buckle shaped like a bat, adding a touch of mystery to his rugged charm.

He turned abruptly, his hand slamming against the door beside your head, eliciting a startled yelp from you. Eddie pressed against you, your hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. Caught between the desire to pull him closer and the instinct to push him away, you found yourself staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Your heart pounded against its ivory prison, the uncertainty of the moment adding to its frantic beat.

"E—Eddie?" You managed to stammer his name, your voice impossibly quiet, overflowing with uncertainty and a mix of fear and desire. He didn't seem to mind. He smiled at you, his breath washing over your mouth and nose like a sweet rum, leaving you light-headed. You squeezed your thighs together as tight as you could, desperate to stifle the growing heat at your core.

He felt it, your nervous shifting and the wild beating of your heart as he cruised a hand along your body, from your hip and then over your breast to clutch the back of your neck. He rubbed his thumb over your racing pulse. "Has anyone ever kissed you like this before? Pushed you against a wall, touched you, told you how beautiful you are?"

Your face burned. Eddie knew that you'd been kissed before; you'd told him as much. But you'd also told him you were a virgin. At twenty-four, you'd almost grown out of being embarrassed by the fact. 

"No," you answered in a low exhale, trying to duck your head to avoid his smouldering stare. His eyes were blown with lust, almost black as coal, as he pushed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

He leaned in closer, the feel of him like a weighted blanket on your chest, making it harder to breathe but in a pleasant way. It made your head fuzzy, like floating in a beautiful daydream, except his lips ghosted over yours. The faintest of touches had reality snapping into place around you.

"Never, ever?" Eddie whispered, his lips brushing, tugging, teasing yours. He was so close that he'd invaded all your senses until all you saw, heard, and breathed was him. He held fast when he wanted to move. Eddie waited for someone to give in to desire and bring the other into the flames. He wanted and needed it to be you.

The tiny whimper you made shot through him, racing through his blood like a bolt of electricity until his cock throbbed. And then you took the plunge, a hand at the back of his neck, the other hauling him in by that pretty studded jacket so you could brush your mouth against his.

It was all he needed—a silent confession, unspoken permission.

Eddie pushed against you until you felt the studs of his leather jacket and his dangling chains pressing into you through your clothing, your dress suddenly restrictive and in the way. His hands were everywhere, cupping your face, running through your hair. And then he dropped to his knees with a thud, pressing kisses down your stomach, leaving wet marks against the fabric of your dress as he ran his hands up the backs of your legs.

"No one ever touched you like this?"

You felt like you were going up in flames. His touch was fire licking your skin, beautiful and pure, leaving you trembling. His hands moved up the back of your thighs, and when his mouth found your belly button, tongue swirling once, then twice, you grabbed him by the shoulders to steady yourself.

"Words, sweet girl. I need you to answer," he said in a husky tone, pinching the back of your thigh to bring you out of your mind and into the moment. He looked at you from beneath his impossibly dark lashes, his eyes dark, twinkling with mischief.

"Never," you managed to gasp when his hands began drifting high, pushing your dress up until he could bunch it at your hips. And then he was face-to-face with your panties, groaning dramatically, making a sound that would make a pornstar blush. 

"Have mercy," Eddie moaned, his breath hot against your mound even through the barrier of clothing. His eyes moved back to yours, and you flushed with embarrassment. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. "Even your fucking panties are adorable. That little bow? I'm going to take my time unwrapping this present."

Yet, despite this admission, he didn't take his time.

His mouth landed on your clothed cunt without a preamble. Your knees shook and threatened to give out as he worked his tongue against the wet fabric, tasting your arousal and letting it slide down his throat like a fine wine. Eddie found that virgins were quick to get wet. His calloused fingers kneaded the globes of your arse, pulling you closer, his talented tongue pushing your panties into your slit so he could tease your clit with gentle licks.

You bit your knuckles to stifle the sounds of your moans as pleasure snaked through your veins, creeping through your bloodstream until you broke into a sweat.

"Put your hands in my hair," he demanded with a rough voice, and like a mindless fool, you complied. His hair was a mess of wild curls that you pulled on, sinking your fingers deep into his plush locks when he started to work your panties down your thighs. "Good girl."

"Oh god." As the fabric pooled at your ankles, your head hit the door with a soft thud. You were like putty in his hands—willing to walk through the fires of hell if it meant he'd keep touching you. Eddie freed one of your ankles and threw your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer.

Words could not describe the feeling of his tongue against your slick folds or the sensation of the tip flicking against your clit. It was like lightning arched through the sky to melt the skin from your bones. You were burning up. And he'd lit the match.

Eddie was loud and messy, lewd. The sounds that clawed up his throat were pornographic. Each wet schlick of his mouth was accompanied by a throaty moan as he sucked your clit and teased your throbbing hole with the tip of his tongue.

It was an out-of-body experience—you never realised you could feel this good. Eddie held you by the back of the thighs, his grip firm, pulling you onto his tongue until your flesh goosepipmpled beneath his touch. You could have collapsed when he withdrew, a line of saliva connecting the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Words, pretty girl. You gotta use them, or I'm going to stop."

You whined desperately, weaving your fingers deeper into his wild hair. "Please don't stop, Eddie. . ."

"Then talk to me. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He waited only a moment, his dark eyes staring into yours with the intensity of the sun. He took in your flushed cheeks and shallow breaths that made your chest heave. Then he resumed his meal. The sound you made in response was embarrassing—at least, it should have been. You should have wanted the ground to split open and swallow you. But you didn't.

"It's good," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut as he ran the flat of his tongue along your slit, the tip flicking your clit in a delicious way that made your hips twitch; forward, then back, like you wanted him to eat you alive but also to escape. 

The feeling was exquisite—like nothing you had ever felt—knocking the air from your lungs, making the muscles in your legs tense and your core weep. Your whole body jerked under his tongue, a shiver shaking your spine, your bones turning to jelly as he licked and sucked your drenched cunt. "Oh god. . . I think. . . I—I'm close."

You'd had orgasms before, but nothing quite like this. It was a slow build, each swipe of Eddie's tongue amplifying the pressure between your hips, sending jolts of electricity through your veins until your nerves crackled and popped. It was difficult to describe; you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but they melted away with each moan he drew from your lips.

And then it spread out through your body, a searing warmth that threatened once more to melt the skin from your bones.

"You're so wet, sweetness, m'fucking drowning here," Eddie said. Even though his words were vulgar, the low growl with which he spoke sent you tumbling down the other side of pleasure. The first wave zinged through you, knocking the air from your lungs and sparking every one of your nerves to life.

You bit your knuckles hard until you tasted blood, but the flavour was quickly lost as the second wave seared through your limbs. Eddie didn't stop—not once. Each swipe of his tongue against your clit, each push of it into your virginal hole, sent wisps of fire shooting through your veins, adding stars and galaxies bursting to life behind your scrunched-shut eyes.

When you returned to earth, you found yourself trembling, his strong hands the pillars that kept you upright. Eddie kissed his way back up your body, slowly working your dress up as he went until he could pull it over your head. He threw it over his shoulder, the fabric a distant memory as it hit the ground, lost and now forgotten.

"No one ever made you cum before, have they?" He whispered, his breath hot, his smirk feral, as he teased his lips along the slope of your neck. You whined when your bare cunt rubbed against his dark denim jeans, the rough drag of the rips and tears against your lips sending you hurtling toward the sky once more.

"No," you managed to say before catching his mouth for a wild, clumsy kiss. Eddie happily obliged, pushing his tongue into your mouth and licking your teeth so you tasted yourself.

"Touch me. . ."

"What do good girls say?"

"Please."

You would die if he didn't touch you in the next three seconds. You would collapse to the ground, melt into a puddle at his feet, and literally die.

Thankfully, he took pity on you. 

Eddie kissed you deeply, with the fire of a thousand suns; his hot breath stole through your lungs when he swallowed your moans, leaving you on the verge of combustion. You felt lost in him, touching him here, there, and everywhere as you tried to strip him. Eddie didn't let you. He grabbed your wrists and held them at the small of your back, and he moved you both across the room.

Your lips never once parted. The moment was composed of hot breaths, searing kisses, and teasing bites, weakening your knees terribly. Eddie fell back into a high chair in front of the make-up mirrors. You were desperate to climb into his lap, to wind your legs around him and leech the warmth from his chest, but instead, he turned you and pulled you into his lap, back to chest.

"Eddie," you whispered his name in a sigh, heady with desire. "I want more. . ."

He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, smiling in response. His lips were wet, his mouth wanting as he lowered it to your next, sucking a mark into your plush skin. "Open your eyes, sweetness."

Eddie hooked your knees over his thighs, spreading you open and exposing you to the mirror. The tips of his fingers ghosted along the crease of your inner thigh, making your breath hitch in anticipation. "You're beautiful," he said with a hum, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You caught his eyes in the reflection and saw the stark desire that had turned his pupils black, the hunger.

And you saw the expression mirrored in your own reflection. Your skin was flushed the subtlest shade of pink, pussy glistening with arousal. Eddie honestly thought you were the prettiest thing he'd ever fucking seen; so sweet, so innocent.

The stretch of his thick fingers was immediately exquisite, the slick of your arousal coating them entirely. Eddie watched the mirror, transfixed by the way it dropped from around his fingers, sliding down the curve of your ass to darken his denim jeans.

He felt you clench around him, tension seeping through your body as the pain collided with pleasure, twisting through your veins like snakes, intertwined, threatening to consume you from the inside out. You cried out when he crooked them, hips rising in search of more; his other hand cruised up your body, the soft swell of your stomach, cupping a tit in the palm of his hand, thumb teasing your nipple into a hardened peak.

Eddie growled against your neck. He was as hard as a rock, and each jolt of your hips had your arse rutting against his aching cock. You reached back to grab his hair, winding your fingers through his wild curls as the pleasure mounted. You were a guitar, and he had years of practice. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way you couldn't sit still as he fucked his fingers in and out of your cunt, the way you clawed at his jeans.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you moan, loud, wantonly, like a whore. You felt dirty—like this was a scandalous secret. The thought of being found was erotically terrifying.

"You getting close, sweetness?" Eddie asked; no, he growled the words against your neck, teeth clipping the sensitive skin. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Are you thinking about my cock? How much better it'll feel than my fingers?"

As though to emphasise his words, his thrust against you, his erection hard against the globes of your arse, leaving him moaning as his own muscles twisted with desire, pure liquid heat pouring through his bones.

"Cum for me, baby."

He wasn't asking; no, he was demanding.

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@micheledawn1975 | @maxstecc

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[jaylaxies]

RULE NUMBER 1: DON'T FALL IN LOVE

PAIRING: jake × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fake dating, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex, drunk sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, penetration, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of sunghoon, heeseung, jay and mark, mentions of karina and yunjin, Imk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 16.2k words

SYNOPSIS: your ex getting a girlfriend after just two weeks of breakup was enough to infuriate you to the point where you had to step up and make him regret breaking your heart. solution? fake date his best friend and make him jealous!

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 anonnie requested for me to make a jake version of my jeno fic and the poll voted in support so here we are! (both fics are mine) i hope you guys enjoy it! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Drink and forget. 

That was your plan for the night, and what’s a better way to achieve it than attending a party with your friends?

“Woah! Girl, slow down,” Yunjin scolded you, taking the shot glass out of your hand, “it’s been half an hour, Y/n. If you take another shot then you’re going back to the dorm.”

You groaned, “you know why I’m doing this Yun. I should’ve listened to you and Rina.”

Heeseung almost whined, “what’s the point anymore? You didn’t listen to them and still fell for him instead of me which resulted in him breaking your heart.” 

That earned him a smack on his head by Ningning, who now turned to you with a smile to lighten up your mood, “it’s been two weeks already, babe! Let’s forget about him and dance—” she said, her last word trailed off as she stared at the party entrance, the same time the music got loud. 

“I can’t believe he left so easily,” you whispered to yourself, gulping down your sentiments before paying attention to where your friends were staring, turning around to look at the entrance gate. 

There he was, the reason why you had been cooped up in your room, crying your heart out. The reason why you were drinking to numb your feelings, yet it all went downhill the second your eyes fell on him. 

Park Sunghoon. 

His walk was confident, his sculpted face looked more charming than ever as he sported his ever so appealing smirk looking indifferent to what had happened between you both. 

Topping it all, he had a girl clinging on to his arm, giggling as she pulled his arm to be pressed between her tits. She was clad in a mini dress which barely hid her ass and your friends couldn’t help but glance back at you with a nervous expression on their faces. 

Your face, however, remained stoic as you exhibited no sign of emotions despite feeling the anger burning up inside you, your fist clenching as you saw them walk towards your group. 

You couldn’t believe how Sunghoon was the same guy who used to give you shy smiles whenever your groups used to sit together as he was a close friend of Mark and Heeseung. 

Your friends had warned you, they did, but you were so blinded by his innocent face and pure smile which held secret promises of sincerity and a hope of something more. You took your time to notice that he cared for you, even waiting outside your classes with a bouquet at times. 

He had you swooning, ignoring the warnings and signs you should have seen coming. His sweet talk lured you right into his trap, and you found yourself saying yes to him in a heartbeat, marking the onset of your honeymoon phase. It was dreamy, to the point even your friends were convinced he had changed his ways and finally decided to settle down. 

Yet, deep inside you could feel your gut telling you that it won’t last, and he proved it just right when he forgot your one month anniversary, when he forgot the flavour of your favourite ice cream, when he didn’t bother calling you or taking you out on dates. 

When he admitted that he was bored and wanted out. 

It lasted for two months before he decided to break up, leaving you standing by yourself in your dorm, tears cascading down your face before your roommates heard a broken cry leave your mouth. Yunjin and Karina never left your side after that. 

Others tried to talk some sense into Sunghoon but it was as useful as a chocolate teapot. 

The hope of him regretting his decision went downhill when you saw him with this new girl, barely two weeks after your break up, the corner of his lips turned up into his usual smirk as he stood in front of you all, getting no smile or greetings yet he wasn’t one to mind. 

It was a rare sight to see his best friend frowning, nonetheless a frown of disappointment settled on Jake’s lips. 

Despite the loud music and the array of sweaty bodies dancing all over the room, you could feel the deafening silence in the circle of your group until a small whine came out of Sunghoon’s new girl toy, who pouted and whispered something in his ear, giving you the opportunity to look at Yunjin, who looked equally disgusted at the exchange. 

The girl must have asked him to introduce her because he nodded with his usual smile, turning around to face everyone as he spoke up, “hey guys! Meet my new girlfriend.” He motioned at her to speak up. 

Her fake giggle made you want to throw up, and you noticed how you weren’t the only one who felt this way as Heeseung excused himself from the conversation, rolling his eyes, which made you smile. 

That didn’t stop her, “hi guys!” She exclaimed, dragging out the hi, “I’m Linda.”

A series of snorts and coughed up laughs emerged as she proceeded to introduce herself, which included you who tried your best not to laugh at her oblivious state, completely disregarding the fact that she was not welcomed here. 

No matter how heartbroken you were, feeling like a fool as Sunghoon’s eyes took your outfit in wasn’t something you’d allow to happen. You didn’t bother excusing yourself as you left the circle, Yunjin following you in a beat as you just missed the whine Linda let out at your disrespectful actions. 

“The fucking audacity?” Yunjin was furious, your inner turmoil matching her expression, “I can’t believe he’s got the nerve to bring that bimbo here.”

You wasted no time in gulping down your fourth shot, no one bothered to stop you this time, knowing well you needed it as you tried to keep your tears at bay, it was too late to say you regretted saying yes to the player. 

Your body felt hot as your mind clouded into a hazier state, the confidence overpowered your painful state, your legs taking you to your friends who knew you were drunk beyond your capacity as you danced with them, rolling your body and letting yourself free. 

Yet the one thing that never left your mind was revenge. 

You wanted revenge. 

The booming voice of your alarm clock was successful in contributing to your raging headache as you opened your eyes with a deep groan, feeling disoriented and your hangover building up. 

“Fuck—” you muttered, shutting up your alarm. 

You were surprised to notice the medicines and a bottle of water that was kept on your nightstand, and you didn’t waste a second before gulping it down to help your headache as well as your parched throat. 

Being grateful that it was a Sunday, you slumped back down, trying to recall the night but the only memory that stayed in your head was the one of Linda squishing Sunghoon’s arm on her boobs. Your jaw clenched at how easily he moved on. 

Just then, Karina entered the room with a small smile. She was the only one who looked normal as she wasn’t present at the party yesterday. 

“Oh! I was just coming to wake you up. We’re all going out for brunch since no one is in their right mind to cook,” she informed you with an amused look, noticing how you were still wearing your dress from last night.  

A shower was exactly what you needed at the given point as you tried your best to get ready in fifteen minutes, your mind filled with ideas to take revenge, no matter how childish it sounded. But how? Well, searching the net didn’t help much. You weren’t going to post a bad picture of him in the name of revenge.  

It also wouldn’t work because it was impossible for him to have a bad picture, much to your dismay. 

You sighed, linking your arms with Yunjin and Karina as you got out of the car which the latter drove as you walked inside your usual diner to see everyone sitting together after aligning the tables. 

Heeseung pulled you to sit with him, he barely had his eyes open as Mark went on telling everyone how Heeseung got pissed drunk last night and made out with his knee while crying. 

The scene was easy to imagine which made you all burst into laughter at the poor boy who could only whine, “your knee tastes like mustard!” 

The laughter died down when you felt a repeat of yesterday happening yet again. It was a friends only brunch, but apparently, Sunghoon’s Linda didn’t get the memo. 

You could see his best friend trailing behind him yet again and you wondered how Jake handled Sunghoon despite his actions, which now made everyone uncomfortable to some extent. 

“Should I punch that asshole?” Heeseung asked, whispering in your ear and you sighed for the tenth time today, shaking your head as you completely ignored the two people and focused on eating and chatting with the ones who made you feel better, however, you could feel Sunghoon’s eyes staring at you. 

You just wanted to go back, already tired of the couple who couldn’t keep their public display of affection at bay. Now you were sure it wasn’t just the hangover that made you wanna puke. 

“I think I just lost my appetite,” you commented, causing the guy in front of you to snigger. 

You looked up for the first time to see Jake sitting opposite to you, sending you a smile once he saw you looking his way, which you returned easily. 

He usually kept to himself and he wasn’t the talkative one in the group. You had only talked to him while greeting him whenever your groups met, and once when Sunghoon got drunk beyond control at a party and so you had to call Jake to pick him up. Your interactions were limited to him because of one person. 

Your smile dropped the second you heard that annoying giggle again, Jake only looked your way with a small frown after as you averted your gaze back to your lap, gulping down your anger. 

The sound of a message notification from your phone grabbed your attention, and you opened it to find your group chat being active. 

Uni haters 🤬👊🏼 (minus Sunghoon) mOrk: uhh yo guys this is awkward 😬 heedungie: can’t believe i lost my title of annoying king to sunghoon’s gf??? 🤬 ningx2: she’s not even a guy yunjinnie: but she’s annoying ningx2: can’t argue w that 🤪 rinaa: let’s just eat and leave as soon as we can, the air is suffocating me 🤕 you: too late i can’t eat anymore 🤡 jay: im leaving i can’t w this bullshit, she didn’t even wear her wig properly  mOrk: holy shit? she’s got a wig on?!?! 😨 You laughed as you noticed Jay calling the waiter for the bill, which you all split as soon as you could and made your way out of the suffocating place, leaving the two in there as Jake too, decided to leave early. 

The drive back home was barely five minutes long, which soothed your nerves as you sang along to old songs Yunjin played on the speakers. 

They could notice how you looked exhausted, but it was more than that, they knew you had something in your mind and it was related to none other than your ex. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Yunjin asked once you entered your shared dorm room. 

“What do you mean? I’m perfectly fine!” You tried laughing but it came out fake, causing Karina to raise her brows. 

“Spill. Right now,” she ordered, making you sit in between them as you clicked your tongue in annoyance, which wasn’t directed to them. 

“Fine. I want revenge,” you confessed, “he looks so happy and unbothered as if nothing happened? How can he say hi to me as if it’s the most casual thing in this world after he broke up with me saying he got bored? Ugh I hate his guts!” You ranted. 

“So, do you have any plans for that?” Yunjin asked. 

“Not really,” you muttered, “safari really recommended me to flirt with other guys in front of him,” you laughed, picking at the pillow cover of your couch. 

Yunjin refrained herself from snorting, “would he be jealous of a random guy though?” 

Karina laughed along, “yeah it’s not like you can date his best friend to make him jealous?” 

Your eyes widened, your head turning slowly as your lips curled into a devilish grin, immediately causing your friends to exchange nervous glances and speak up. 

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re considering this,” Karina blinked, incredulous. 

“Listen—” you started, only to be cut off midway. 

“No way,” a breathy laugh left Yunjin as she tried to contain her words and make you understand without any cussing. 

“It’s not a bad idea, okay?” You tried to convince her. 

“So what? Are you gonna seduce Jake?” She asked. 

You laughed which sounded more like a pfft, “of course not, silly! We’ll fake date each other!” You said, face shining as if you had presented the greatest idea known to mankind. 

“Be so for real right now,” Karina deadpanned. 

“Lord, Y/n think straight. This is real life, you’re not in a cheesy rom-com movie or a book,” Yunjin provided her input. 

“I know! But I just have to make him jealous for what? A month before he gets bored of that Linda girlie, and maybe Jake would agree to it too!” You nodded at the possibilities. 

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Yunjin rubbed her eyes, “me either,” Karina said as they both looked at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher. 

Your smile only got wider, “this is the best way to make it work!” You announced before looking at Karina sheepishly, “please send me Jake’s number Rina,” you said in a sweet voice, knowing she was the social butterfly of the university before you waved a goodbye at them, walking into your room, formulating a plan alongside. 

“This is gonna be a disaster, right?” Karina asked Yunjin, sighing. 

“Oh definitely, it’ll be a show.”

You walked in your room, contemplating if it would be alright to discuss this on text or if you should meet up with him, the latter option was more plausible yet scary because what if Jake laughed at you? What if he didn’t agree to work with you for the sake of his friendship. 

With such a stupefied idea, the possibilities were endless. Besides, you weren’t gonna ask for a lot, just a little hand holding, maybe hugging but nothing beyond that. You have to play pretend and smile a lot around each other. That would sell your drama and that would make Sunghoon jealous and realize that he lost a gem. 

You waited and thought about it for a few days before finally giving in. 

You took a deep breath, giving yourself a last nod of encouragement before you picked up your phone, saving the number Karina had forwarded you and clicking on his profile before sending a text. 

To: Jake🐾 You: heyy jake! 🥰 it’s Y/n, can we meet up?  You wondered if that emoji was too much, but you did not get enough time to ponder upon it as Jake texted you back in a minute.  Jake🐾:  Hey, Y/n :) sure, is everything okay? You: yess! i just need to talk to you about something :3 Jake🐾: How about Starbucks at 5?  You: perfect, i’ll be there ^^ Jake🐾: See you <3

Your mouth widened at the heart at the end of the text, before you brushed it off, thinking that he sent it by mistake, or to seem kind. You kept your phone on the nightstand, standing in front of your closet to select an outfit for your meeting. 

The plan was made, you just had to discuss it with Jake but you had never talked to him before, maybe that is why your heartbeat rose up. He was a good looking guy, there’s no denying that and you’ve heard that he was one of the smart ones too. 

You bit your lip as you straightened out your top, rethinking your life decisions. There was no backing out now. You looked in the mirror again, satisfied with your outfit and makeup. You knew you looked stunning as you grabbed your phone and bag before driving Karina’s car to your desired destination. 

The place was almost empty except for a few people who sat and worked on their laptops. It was easy to spot Jake, his dark hair shone under the dim lights of the cafe, he pushed his specs up for it to rest on his perfectly pointy nose, his lips parted ever so slightly as he focused on reading a book which you had never heard the name of. 

His aura looked calming, which boosted your confidence as you made your way towards the table he was sitting at. It was near the window, at the end of the cafe, which gave you enough privacy. Somehow the seating choice felt very Jake to you. 

Clearing your throat, you mustered up your courage, smiling slightly. “Hey, Jake!” You spoke, looking him in the eye. 

That was enough to capture his attention, he looked up at you with a smile that reached his eyes. 

He looked adorable. 

“Y/n! Hey, come sit please,” he said, gesturing at the seat on the opposite side of him. 

His eyes were soft as they looked at you sitting down, noticing a strand of hair which you tucked behind your ear, finally looking up at him, trying to find the right words to start the conversation. 

“Isn’t it weird how we’ve never talked before?” You chuckled, causing him to nod with a small laugh. 

“That’s true. How can I help you today?” He asked, keeping the book aside, carefully placing a bookmark before doing so. 

You kept your confident smile on, “I needed your help with this hypothesis I have,” you nodded as you explained it to him, and he was sure that the meet up was for academic purposes now, “so I need to take a little survey. Can you answer some questions for me?” You asked.

He nodded as you took out a notepad and pen from the bag you were carrying. 

“Sure, I’d be glad to help,” he smiled, eyes turning into soft crescents, which you stopped to stare for a second too long before realizing that he was waiting for your questions. 

You snapped out of your daze as you started scribbling on your notepad, “your full name?” 

“Don’t you know it?” He asked, confused. 

“Shh just answer, it’s the official protocol.” You huffed. 

“Sim Jaeyun.”

“Gender?” 

“Seriously—” 

“Just say it!” 

“Okay, fine. Male.”

“What’s your age?”

“I’m 20.”

“Introvert, extrovert or ambivert?”

“Introverted.”

“Marital status?”

“What?”

“Single? Okay. So on a scale of one to ten, how willing are you to help me get back at your best friend by being my fake boyfriend?” You asked, your smile never faltering. 

Jake blinked once. Then twice. “You lost me on that one,” he spoke up. 

His eyes displayed a mixture of shock and amusement, and maybe it was your figment of imagination that you saw him snigger but you weren’t the one to give up. 

Your lips jutted out in a pout, eyes shiny as you looked up at him, “c’mon! You won't let a girl beg for a little help, right? Especially when she was hurt so very deeply by the said ex, right?” 

Jake looked at you, your pout only deepening in the hopes of him accepting your idea. He only leaned on his arm, coming closer with an enthralled smile. 

“So what you’re suggesting here is that I fake date you to get back at my best friend for hurting you?” He confirmed and you nodded enthusiastically, “how’s it going to work?”

“Easy! Sunghoon isn’t the one who gets affected by a lot of things but if I date his best friend, that’s you, then he would get jealous and would regret breaking up with me,” you explained, “then I won’t take him back,” you announced, a triumphant smile on your face. 

Jake nodded, as if contemplating whether the offer was worth it, “what do I get out of it?” He asks. 

“A fake and pretty girlfriend of course,” you smiled, “and a chance to teach your best friend some manners,” you shrugged as if it was a win-win situation. 

Jake’s expression didn’t give out what he was thinking and you were patiently looking at him for some sort of answer, hopefully a positive one. 

“Do I have time to think?” He asks. 

“I would give you some but then I’m an anxious being,” you stated which elicited a laugh out of him as he never expected that coming out of you. 

But he had seen it all, the way Sunghoon behaved with you. He forgot all important dates, gave priority to his parties and the friend group which was potentially harmful for him, not to mention that his reason for breaking up was worse than the worst excuse, saying he got bored, only to find a girl two weeks later. Jake truly hated Linda as she accidentally broke his favourite vase while she made out with Sunghoon in their shared apartment. 

“Fine. How are we going to go about this?” Jake sighed, giving in finally as he saw your face practically lighting up with excitement. 

“Wait! Does this mean you’re in?” You asked just to be sure. 

“I don’t think I have any other option,” he teases but you don’t mind, you were simply enjoying the feeling of victory already, “so, now what?” He asks, finally realizing what he had gotten himself into. 

Fake dating. 

“Now, we’re going to set some ground rules, which of course, we’ll write down and sign as a contract,” you say, getting a page out of your notepad. 

“Like that one movie by Jenny Han?” He raised his brows. 

You stopped to think for a second, “yeah but it’s not like we’ll fall in love or something,” you shrugged with a laugh and he nodded. 

Y/n and Jake’s rules of fake dating! <3

Don’t fall in love 

Hand holding is okay

Drive to the uni together 

Nicknames are a must!

Kissing is not allowed!!

Don’t tell anyone except for Yunjin and Karina 

Break up once the goal is reached. 

Goal: make Sunghoon regret breaking up!! (Additional: get rid of Linda)

Signatures

You passed the sheet to Jake, “anything you’d like to change?” You asked as he read it all, and you noticed his brows slightly scrunching as he did so, exactly how they were scrunched when he was reading his book earlier. 

“I’m assuming you told your friends already,” he pointed out rule number six, to which you nodded sheepishly. 

“No kissing?” He asked, “you know no one’s gonna buy it if we don’t kiss, right? But of course, if you’re not comfortable then it’s fine.”

You bit your lower lip, wondering if you should consider it since he was right. Kissing is the easiest way to show affection, “I think you’re right, we’ll do it only when it’s required,” you said, and he nodded. 

You wondered how he was so calm with all of this, and you liked that he was asking questions about it all. 

“What’s with the nicknames?” He read rule number four. 

“Sunghoon is big on nicknames, I bet he calls you some too. He used to call me princess,” you sighed, remembering how it used to be. It hurt but the current hatred overtook that feeling. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” he whispered. 

Your eyes widened at his deep, accented tone, but he only smiled, “just practising,” he said and you nodded, gulping down. 

“Okay, so is the list done?” You inquired. 

“Yeah, I just have to add one thing,” he said, scribbling down another rule while you asked him random questions. 

“Have you ever dated before?” 

He shook his head, “you’re my first,” he winked, and you wondered how he was so good at flirting. 

“So—” you were going to ask another question but it seems like he knew what it was. 

“I know I’m silent but it doesn’t mean I’m inexperienced,” he stated, and you were amused as it was the first time he saw him being this way, “besides, this deal of ours would benefit me by driving the girls away.”

“Right,” you snickered, looking at what he had written, “why PDA?” you asked. 

“Because that’s the key to irritate Hoon, especially with Linda around who sees no other seat but Hoon’s lap,” he explained as your face scrunched at the image. 

“You really are smart,” you muttered, signing the contract before handing it to him, who was quick to sign it too before you extended your hand. 

His big hand encased yours in a handshake and you couldn’t help, but notice how his fingers were slender, veins visible on his hands as his grip was firm on your hand. 

You had sealed the deal. 

Y/n and Jake’s rules of fake dating! <3

Don’t fall in love 

Hand holding is okay

Drive to the uni together 

Nicknames are a must!

Kissing is not allowed!!

Don’t tell anyone except for Yunjin and Karina 

Break up once the goal is reached. 

PDA whenever the target is around!

Goal: make Sunghoon regret breaking up!! (Additional: get rid of Linda)

Y/n       Jake 

Signatures

“Listen, I know plans don’t work at times, there’s no reason to be sad over it—wait why are you smiling? There’s no way—” Yunjin asked as soon as you entered your dorm after your meeting with Jake.  

“He agreed,” you squealed. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Jake? The scholar guy who’s silent for the majority of the time, the guy who’s never had a girlfriend before, he agreed to fake date you?” Karina’s mouth was hung open and you only nodded excitedly. 

They both looked at each other before nodding, “now, you need a day out. We’re talking waxing, getting your hair done, and preferably your nails too since you’ve had that colour for too long and new clothes—” they made a list as they successfully dragged you out for all of it the next day, saying it’s a little something they’d want to contribute to your fake dating strategy. 

You didn’t mind a bit of it, being pampered was something you loved and it was long due as you had devoted all your time to crying after your breakup. 

It was when Monday rolled by when it finally settled in. You were going to pretend to date Jake Sim, in front of everyone. Your friends gave you last minute pep talks and you were more than glad that they had decided to help you dress up too. Just then your phone rang with a notification. 

Jake🐾: Morning, sunshine <3 Ready to sell our show?  You: good morning!! i'm more than ready! are you tho? 👀 Jake🐾: I’m already waiting for you outside, love ;)

You almost choked on the water you were drinking as you remembered the rules. 

You had to go to the university with him. 

“Bye guys! He’s here,” you said to your roommates, getting up and grabbing your bag as you made your way out in a hurry. 

Jake was standing by his car as he lived in the apartments and not the dorms, which was ten minutes away from your university campus. As for your dorms, they were a solid five minutes walk from your room. 

He looked up from your phone as he heard you walking closer to him, “hey,” he smiled. 

“So punctual, you’re right on time,” you said, “seems like you’re excited.”

He chuckled, opening the passenger seat door for you, “I can’t say I’m not excited to see other’s reactions,” he admitted as you sat down inside, thanking him softly. 

Sunghoon had never once opened the door for you. 

He got in the car, focusing on the road, “what’s the goal for today, princess?” He asked in his deep tone. 

You blamed your overly sensitive skin for the tingling you felt due to his voice, also sitting to notice how his face looked like a sculpture.  

“Soft launching our relationship,” you answered, clicking his picture. 

“In the cafeteria, during lunch then?” 

“Exactly! You just have to sit next to me and smile, that’ll be enough for Heeseung to suspect something,” you explained the basic plan just in time as you reached the university parking lot. 

“Why? Do I never smile?” He asked, getting his seatbelt off. 

“You do, but only to our group. Others are limited to a neutral expression only,” you pointed out as if you had analysed him fully. 

“Wait,” he stopped you from opening the car door, getting out and opening it for you with a tiny smile. 

Well that worked since people were nosy enough to notice a girl coming out of Jake’s car, which is a scene that never occurs. 

He politely offered you his hand as he helped you stand up. His hand was warm juxtaposing your cold ones, as he pulled you towards him, your shoulder pressed against his chest, which you could feel was chiselled, he definitely had pecks. 

“Smile, princess,” he whispered, and you overcame your state of hyper focus on him before putting on your best smile. 

“What are we doing?” You asked, your smile never faltering. 

Jake was somehow really good at looking at you with fondness in his eyes, he’d be a nice theatre guy if he takes up acting someday. 

“Dropping my girlfriend to her class, of course,” he said smoothly, and you started walking, hand in hand. 

“You’re pretty good at this. Are you sure it’s your first time?” You teased, noticing others staring at your hands. 

“Why? Do you think I’m a good boyfriend?” He asked back and you were truly amazed to see him retorting to your questions, given that you had barely seen him talk before. 

He felt your hand slipping and quickly intertwined your fingers. The gesture made sure to send a shiver down your spine. 

Sunghoon never held your hand while walking. 

“We’re just getting started, we’ll see how it goes,” you suggested, causing him to nod and continue the conversation you had left off. 

“So what you were saying back in the car is that people perceive me as someone who’s mean?” He tilted his head in question. 

“Of course not! They perceive you as someone who’s unapproachable.” You say seriously, you both stopped walking as you had reached the class. 

He blinked at you once. You blinked back. 

And you both burst out into soft laughter before he ruffled your hair slightly, bending down to your level, “study well, princess.” He winked, walking away to attend his own lecture. 

You tried your best to focus on the lecture as you jotted down the notes alongside, however the feeling of thrill kept your leg bouncing the entire time, your mind working out possible scenarios with everyone’s reactions. 

Soon, the classes were over and it was the time for your lunch break, which also meant that it was the time for you and Jake to act in front of everyone else. 

“We’ll cheer for you,” Karina said and you could only laugh at her expression. She still couldn’t believe that you were going through with this. 

From the entrance of the big cafeteria, you could easily spot the table where everyone had already assembled. 

“Ready?” A deep voice whispered in your ear, successfully causing you to jump back. 

But Jake was quick to grab your waist and pull you closer before you could trip, his eyes equally widened as yours, “god! You scared me,” you said, breathing in deeply to calm your heart. 

You could feel his scent infiltrating your senses, it was a perfect blend of woody and citrus, which was also paired with slight musk and mandarin. He smelled really good. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, letting go so you could stand straight. 

His eyes were full of worry, mouth slightly agape and you smiled to let him know you were okay. “Now, smile and talk,” you said as you both walked into the cafeteria. 

“Do I really never smile?” He asked you, “because people are staring.”

“I told you already! You smile only when you’re around our friends and we have never really talked before, at least in front of others,” you laughed. 

The whole group went silent as the two of you approached. Heeseung was the first one to raise his eyebrows as you sat down with him, but Jake didn’t sit next to Sunghoon. Instead, he sat down next to you. 

Linda, as usual, was sitting on Sunghoon’s lap, but that didn’t stop Hoon from staring at you and Jake. 

“Something is fishy,” Heeseung pointed out. 

“What is?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

Jake was silent when he wrapped his strong arm around your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. You could feel your stomach tingling, and he simply smiled your way. 

“Firstly, I saw you getting out of Jake’s car in the morning,” Hee noted, “secondly, he was holding your hand and he walked you to the class. Thirdly, he’s been smiling nonstop.”

“Dude, no way!” Mark simply laughed, thinking it’s another one of Heeseung’s jokes. 

Ningning looked lost while Jay seemed to be focusing on your expression, “I don’t think it’s one of his jokes this time,” he said. 

“It’s really not!” Hee argued, glad that Jay was agreeing. 

“Does this mean—” Mark’s eyes widened. 

“—that they’re dating,” Yunjin said, acting her best as she widened her eyes, almost standing up at the confession. 

A series of gasps left their mouths, “what?” They collectively exclaimed. 

You tried your best to hold in your laugh as Jake turned to look at you, and from the side of your eyes, you could notice Sunghoon staring at you deeply with his jaw clenched. 

“They are! Look! He’s got his arm around her waist,” Heeseung exclaimed in an overdramatic way. 

“Guys—” you tried to say but Jake stopped you. 

“It’s fine, princess. They know now,” he smiled, pulling you even closer in a side hug. 

That caused Ningning, Mark and Heeseung to scream while Linda squealed, jumping on Hoon’s lap. 

Jake caressed the corner of your lip adoringly, “no need to hide it from our friends, baby,” he said before looking up, “Heeseung is right, we are dating.”

“What the fuck?”

“Since when?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck?”

All eyes turned to Ningning in disbelief as she asked the question, “what? I’m curious,” she shrugged, everyone looking at Sunghoon subtly to observe his reaction. 

You leaned into Jake’s chest, making yourself comfortable as you saw everyone chatting excitedly, your eyes settling on your ex for just a moment to see his furrowed brows and hardened eyes, a vein popping out from his neck. 

Day one, successful. 

“So you’re dating now, huh?” Sunghoon’s voice asked Jake as he entered their shared apartment. 

Sunghoon was sitting on the couch, face devoid of expressions as he asked the question. 

Jake chuckled softly, gripping his bag tighter as he walked into the room, standing in front of Sunghoon, “yeah. Who would’ve seen that coming?”

That caused the other boy to chuckle along, but it sounded strained, almost ending with a scoff, “I certainly didn’t see it coming.”

“You don’t sound happy for me,” Jake said, his tone teasing. 

Sunghoon was trying hard to keep his fake smile up, “What makes you think so?”

“Your smile. It’s strained,” Jake pointed out, grabbing the bottle of beer in front of Sunghoon and taking a sip out of it. 

Sunghoon clicked his tongue, looking Jake dead in the eye, “how can you date her? What happened to the bro code?” 

Jake remained calm, “why? Weren’t you the one who was done with her?”

“She’s my fucking ex, Jake,” he snapped. 

“That’s right, she’s your ex. She’s not yours anymore, she’s my girl.” Jake smiled, keeping the beer back on the table before walking away. 

“Oh! And, try to be happy for us now, Hoon. I don’t want my princess to be sad because of us, yeah?” Jake gave him his infamous eye smile before returning to his room.

The plan was working. 

You didn’t have morning classes the next day, which is why you had to walk to the main campus instead of getting a ride with your fake boyfriend. Yet you left your dorm an hour before your lecture to meet up with Jake as he had something to tell you. 

The one thing you liked about your University was its beauty, the gardens and fresh flowers only heightened up your spirits as you tried to find Jake in the garden of the STEM faculty, which was mostly empty. 

You spotted Jake waiting for you by a tree. He was reading the same book he had in the cafe the other day, you had also noticed how frequently he used to go to libraries during your relationship with Sunghoon. He loved to read. 

“Hey,” you said, standing in front of him with a smile. 

“Hey there, princess,” he replied, making you tilt your head. 

“Why are you calling me that? We’re alone right now,” you laughed. 

“For practice, of course,” he said in a beat before he handed you a cup of coffee, the exact one which you get from your favourite cafe nearby. 

“How’d you know?” You blink, surprised at his sweet gesture, also thanking him for it. 

He shrugged, “I’m known to be attentive,” he said. 

Sunghoon never knew your favourite drink. 

“Sunghoon talked to me yesterday,” he told you as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“Yeah?” You asked, stepping closer to hear what he had to say. 

“Yeah, he truly hates this setting. He asked me how I could date you.”

“Oh my god, he didn’t even hesitate? What did you say back then?” You asked. 

“Hold on—” he said, grabbing your waist and turning you around, his hand resting on the back of your head as he pushed you against the tree. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, eyes widening as he leaned closer, making your heart beat out of your chest as you looked into his honey brown eyes which were surrounded by little specks of gold. 

“Sunghoon,” he breathed out, “he’s here and he’s looking our way.”  

To Sunghoon, it might look as if Jake and you are kissing but his lips are still inches away from yours, his scent pleasing your olfactory receptors as your ex only scoffed and walked away. 

“Oh,” you said in understanding. 

Jake only chuckled, “so, he went on saying how you are his ex and I shouldn’t be dating you,” he continued to tell you the story. 

Only Jake Sim could talk so calmly in such a compromising position. You wondered if Sunghoon had left already. 

“What did you reply?” You asked, voice coming out in a whisper as your body became aware of his hand which rested on your waist. 

“That you’re not his anymore,” he claimed, “that you’re mine now.” He said, breathily. 

You gulped down your nervousness. You knew it was a part of the act yet you couldn’t help but feel your skin tingling ever so slightly as you nodded. 

“Is he gone?” You asked, referring to Sunghoon. 

Jake blinked twice, finally looking up to see no sign of your ex anymore as he stepped back and you breathed in deeply. 

“The plan is working perfectly then,” you let out softly. 

He nodded, eyes crinkling. 

“I almost forgot,” you gasped, “Yunjin gave me this idea that we should go on a date!” 

“A date?” He asked, knowing that it’ll just be the two of you there. 

“Yes. It’s honestly just to make it believable. We can go out, click pictures and have a good time by eating good food,” you said, looking in his eyes for confirmation. 

“Sure, let’s do that,” he agreed, making you smile as you said you’d text him the details before rushing to your lecture. 

Jake simply leaned back, staring at your rushing figure with tender eyes. 

Another week had gone by swiftly and the only thing that bothered you were the girls who came up to you, asking if you were truly in a relationship with Jake, to which you said yes with the sweetest smile you could muster, crushing all their hopes of having a future with your fake boyfriend. 

Heeseung was hellbent on knowing more about this newfound relationship of yours, Ningning simply wanted to know if the calm and silent guy was good in bed, Yunjin and Karina were amazing at acting as if they didn’t know it was fake. Mark approached Jake as he tried to get a few tips out of him since Mark wanted to man up and confess to his crush. 

As for Sunghoon, you hadn’t seen him for the past two days. He didn’t sit with your group during lunch, nor was in any of your shared lectures. Even his girlfriend came to ask you guys if you had seen him. Only Jake knew that Sunghoon had spent the past two days drinking at their apartment. 

That was the least of your concerns as Ningning kept asking you random questions. 

“Favourite hair colour on guys?” She asked. 

“Black looks heavenly,” you admitted. 

“And haircut?” She asked Karina.

“Anything as long as it’s not a bowl cut,” she winced, distaste for that haircut clear on her face. 

“But guys, undercut looks so fucking hot, you have to admit that,” you pointed out and everyone seemed to agree with you. 

The conversation was casual but Jake decided to take it up a notch and surprise you with something you had decided upon, yet never executed. 

“Let’s go on a date today, baby,” Jake suggested, again making everyone stop and stare at you both. 

“Dude, how are you so cool?” Mark whined, wanting to do the same with his crush. 

“I thought you were shy, but I guess the silent ones are the freakiest,” Ningning commented. 

“He’s literally talking about a date, Ning,” you sighed. 

“I can't believe he took you away from me,” Heeseung shook his head as you gave him a look. 

“You guys were never together in the first place,” Karina reminded him, and he sobbed dramatically. 

Jake looked at you expectantly, his eyes seemed bigger than usual and you could swear they were shining just the perfect amount. It somehow made you look away, biting your lower lip in the process before you nodded. 

“I’d love to,” you admitted. 

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at five,” he said, grabbing his bag and swinging it on his right shoulder. 

He noticed how you looked happy this particular day, your face had a certain kind of glow to it and your smile was brighter. It seemed as if you were doing better now, and your friends really loved to see you this way. 

He bent down, touching your cheek tenderly, pressing his lips on your forehead ever so gently, making your eyes flutter close at the soothing sensation. 

“See you then, princess,” he whispered, looking at you one last time before going to attend his next lecture. 

“Did he just?” Heeseung covered his mouth. 

You were just as shocked as the others, not expecting any kind of PDA at all, especially when Sunghoon wasn’t around. That was the first time he had done it. You bit your lip yet again, looking down at your lap, trying to contain your smile. 

Yunjin and Karina looked at you before looking at each other with a knowing look. 

Then they smiled, wishing for the best.  

“What do I even wear?” You huff in distress, looking at your roommates who looked like statues seeing your bed full of random clothes tossed around. 

“You can simply ask him where you guys are gonna go, it’s not like you’re actually dating and it’s a surprise,” Karina pointed out. 

You stopped, saying, “you’re right actually,” but then you whined, “I don’t wanna ask him such simple things, help me out guys.”

Yunjin sighed, mustering her stylist expression as she gave your wardrobe and your bed a once over, quickly getting all articles of clothing she wanted before handing them over to you, solving your problem in two minutes maximum. 

“Don’t you think this dress is a little fancy? I mean, we’re probably going to a local cafe,” You asked, cocking your brow. 

“Just trust me and wear this babygirl,” Yunjin said, using her usual nicknames. 

You had just finished applying your lip oil, concluding your makeup as you got a notification from Jake saying he was outside your dorm. 

You smiled unknowingly at the text, a feeling of excitement, or rather, giddiness creeping up your stomach as you bid your roommates goodbye, grabbing your purse and not forgetting to thank them for tolerating your tantrums. 

Walking out of the dorm and towards the exit, you stopped as you saw Jake leaning against his car, which wasn’t an unusual sight for you, however, you had never expected to see him in a black jacket, thinking that he’d be clad in his usual hoodies. 

His hair was neatly trimmed as he sported an undercut, which he didn’t have in the morning, meaning he got it cut right after your classes. 

Right after you revealed your liking for the particular haircut. 

“Jake,” you whispered, walking closer to him, noticing how he wasn’t wearing his usual specs either, probably opting for the lenses instead. 

He was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes fixated on the flower he held in his hand, completely immersed in his thoughts before he looked up to see you standing right in front of him. 

“Y/n,” he murmured, his heart pounding slightly as he noticed the light breeze gently swaying the hem of your dress, “you look beautiful,” he smiled, dissipating your jittering nerves and sending a wave of warmth through your chest. 

“You look so—” you tried to find the right word, eyes never leaving his face as you had never seen him look so bold before, “captivating.”

He laughed at your statement, “here,” he said, extending his arm and passing you the flower he had gotten for you, the tips of your fingers brushed against his ever so slightly, “glad I could captivate you, sweetheart,” he whispered, winking at you. 

You were left stunned, wondering where did he get his sudden boost of confidence from as you sat inside his car, watching him start the car, gripping the steering wheel normally, yet it made the veins of his hands pop out. 

You cleared your throat, “so, where are you taking me today?” You asked him. 

“Well, that’s something you’ll have to wait and see,” he teased, building up your anticipation. 

“Okay, is it far though?” You asked, falling into a conversation with him so easily, and he told you it would be an hour long drive, making you wonder where you were off to. 

There was something so endearing about others sharing their favourite things and talking about them, you loved to hear all of it and you felt even better seeing Jake comfortable around you as he went on telling you about the books he’d been reading and recommending the ones you’d like. 

One hour felt like a few minutes with him, time passing by effortlessly. Your lips parted in surprise once you saw where you were.

It was the fancy restaurant you’d been wishing to visit from the past year, but never got a chance to do so, “oh my god, I really wanted to come here to eat,” you told him, smile brightening and you were glad you had dressed up for it. 

“I know,” he said, extending his arm for you to hold. 

You looked at him, incredulous, “how?” 

“I asked Karina,” he admitted as you held on to his arm softly. 

You were thoroughly surprised at his revelation, knowing that he could’ve taken you to any normal place nearby but he chose this. You were in awe at how beautiful the interior was as you focused on the little details here and there. 

“You didn’t have to do so much, Jake,” you whispered, loving how his skin shone under the light of the chandelier. 

He shook his head softly, eyes never leaving your face, “I know it’s a fake date but it doesn’t mean that I’ll take you to our usual cafés, you deserve more than that.”

You breathed in softly, breaking eye contact and looking at your fiddling fingers. You felt as if your heart was beating out of your chest. Everything he did felt so genuine and well thought of. He cared about your likes and dislikes, he always took a note of your preferences. 

Sunghoon never did that. 

“You’re too fucking sweet,” you muttered under your breath so he can’t hear it. 

“Hm?” He asked, menu in his hands as he scanned it thoroughly for all possible options. 

“Nothing,” you smiled, getting your phone out and clicking a few candid pictures of him, which did capture his attention. 

“What’s that for?” He looked at you with big eyes, his face giving out the cutest expressions despite him looking tough in his undercut and newfound style. 

“Why not? Can’t post my boyfriend on my story now?” You asked cheekily. 

It was something you both had decided you’d do, the likes and replies flooded in soon as your friends were flabbergasted at the fact that Jake had cut his hair and dressed up so well. 

You both decided upon the dishes you wished to have and the waiter noted it down kindly, leaving you two alone to talk after. 

“Won’t you post me too?” You asked. 

“I will, you just have to wait for a while. I promise it’ll be the prettiest picture ever,” he said, full of confidence. 

“Well, that’s a challenge then because I don’t usually like my photos,” you smirked and he leaned in. 

“We’ll see how that goes,” he challenged. 

It was great that you could share any kind of emotions with him, whether it was you being goofy, him being silent, or you being nervous as he turns to be confident. It was a mix of everything. 

Soon, your food was served to you and even the scent of the scrumptious meal was enough to make your mouth water as you hummed with delight with just one bite, saying it melted just perfectly in your mouth. 

You didn’t notice him watching your eager face, loving your reaction as he felt like he did the right thing bringing you here. Until you catch him watching you. 

“Is there something on my face?” You asked cluelessly, pouting as you ate another bite. 

“Actually, yeah there is,” he said, leaning closer to caress the corner of your lip with his thumb, brushing away the crumbs gently as you simply sat with your heart pounding at his gesture. Even more so when he smiled, licking his thumb, “all done.” 

“You’re really so good at it,” you muttered, and this time he heard it. 

“At what?”

“If you do this,” you said, gesturing at your lip, “to any girl then she’ll definitely swoon over you.”

He raised his brow, “why? Did you like it that much?” 

An awkward chuckle left your mouth as you tried to dismiss his question, “I’m just saying,” you state, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. 

He only laughed, “alright, sweetheart.”

You whined, and the other families around looked at you both with soft eyes, thinking you both were cute together as his eyes turned into crescents at your behaviour. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so at ease being out with someone. That wasn’t just all, Jake insisted on taking you to another place for a little walk. Night had fallen as you walked together on a rather empty bridge, yet it was a pretty sight—water reflecting the glistening stars along with the crescent moon. 

“How’s Sunghoon?” You asked all of a sudden, not noticing Jake’s smile faltering for a fraction of a second. 

“He’s coping in his own way. I bet he’ll be back to uni tomorrow. But he definitely regrets it,” Jake lets out slowly, “isn’t that your goal?” 

You stop walking, trying to find the right words, “yeah,” you whispered,  “but it’s not over until he confronts me himself. I need some closure,” you said, looking at him with a teasing smile now, “why? Don’t wanna be with me anymore?” 

He licked his lips, biting his tongue as he smiled, which you noticed was another habit of his, “of course not. It’s good to have someone to talk to.”

“Yeah? Then tell me more about you,” you said, looking at the water as you folded your arms over the railing. 

He was silent for a few seconds, joining you to lean on the railing, “I’ve always been the shy kid I guess. I was the one who always used to read sitting in the corner of a class and so, I never really had friends.”

You didn’t glance at him, letting him speak freely. Jake was one of the kindest souls you had ever met and it was obvious even in the little time you had known him. You wanted him to be happy. 

“Hoon was my friend ever since we were kids, our families are really close so he was forced to befriend me. He didn’t mind it, he was the kindest child and helped me talk to others, he was also the reason why I met you guys,” he sighed, “Hoon was always first when it came to everything, he led the way for me and I let him do that each time.” He turned his head, looking your way as he whispered, “until I realized I should’ve been the first this one time.”

You couldn’t understand what he was referring to, yet you understood that Sunghoon was dear to him, however his recent actions caused him to drift apart from Jake. 

A flash of light took you out of your trance. Jake had clicked your picture, “show!” You said, almost jumping closer to him and his shoulders rose up as he laughed when you tried to get his phone from his hands. 

“You’ll see when I post it,” he said. 

You whined again, “but what if I look bad in the picture?”

“You can’t ever look bad, sweetheart,” he said earnestly and you could feel your cheeks heating up as you closed your mouth shut, biting your lip as you looked away shyly. 

He chuckled, “let’s get you home now.”

You checked the time on your wristwatch, “oh, yeah. It’s late.”

You both started walking towards his car, getting off the bridge as Jake saw you shiver with the sudden gust of chilly air hitting you. 

He wasted no time in getting his jacket off and passing it to you, “here, it’s cold.”

Your eyes widened to see him wearing nothing but a white tank underneath which displayed his muscles as the moonlight accentuated it further. You never knew he worked out, your eyes travelling to his arms which were veiny. 

Jake looked unreal, almost like the bad boys you’d see in a movie but his well sculpted face made him look like a Greek god. He really had it all. 

You didn’t even notice you had stopped walking as Jake wrapped his jacket around your figure, smiling slightly as you reached the car, his scent enveloped you aa you hugged the jacket closer to you.  

“T—thank you,” you spoke, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering. 

“Can’t let my girlfriend freeze now, can I?” He stated more than asked. 

He helped you get in the car by opening the door, which he always did. It was another habit of his which you found endearing. He got in the car soon, looking your way before he leaned in all of a sudden, his face inches away from yours, causing you to stop breathing for a few seconds. 

The shape of his lips was beautiful. 

He leaned back soon, dragging the seatbelt with him as he secured you in your seat. The proximity reminded you of how he kissed your forehead in the morning, and your mouth worked before your mind could as you asked him about it. 

“Uh, so—why did you kiss my forehead in the morning?” You inquired. 

He most certainly was not expecting that question, and his expression gave it away, “your friends were watching,” he stated, licking his lips, “and Mark was suspicious as we never kissed before or did anything other than hand holding,” he explained. 

“Did he ask you about it?” You questioned, hugging the jacket closer to your body. 

Jake hummed as a reply, seeing you get comfortable on the seat with droopy eyelids, he knew you were going to fall asleep soon and he let you. 

His heart could only take so much for one day. 

He made sure to drive safe, glancing at your sleeping figure from time to time and he swore you looked like a baby when you slept. 

You reached back safely and he stopped the car, he didn’t wish to wake you up when you looked so at peace. He called out your name softly, coming closer to pat your shoulder. 

You stirred in your sleep, opening your eyes slowly to find Jake close to you. 

“We’re here,” he spoke, voice low. 

“Oh,” you blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the street lights as you got out of the car, not expecting Jake to get out along with you. 

You looked at him in question and he just shrugged, his muscles flexing in the process, “let me walk you to your door,” he said. 

Sunghoon never walked you to your door. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of being a gentleman?” You asked with an amused smile. 

“Not when it comes to you,” he uttered quietly. 

Heat rushed up the tip of your ears now that you stood in front of him, “Jake—” you whispered, “thank you so much for today. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun on a date.”

A fake date, you reminded yourself. 

“It’s good to see you happy,” he took a step closer, “good night, princess.”

He was gentle as he slowly brushed his fingers on your forehead to tuck your hair behind your ear, he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your forehead in a featherlight kiss. You closed your eyes, the warmth of his kiss lingering on your skin as he bid goodbye to you. 

He was walking away by the time you could open your eyes and breathe again, not even bothering to ask for his jacket back from you. 

You looked around your place once to see if your friends were watching this time. 

They weren’t. 

Your room had a tranquil atmosphere as the moonlight coming from the window lit it up. Your roommates were already asleep in their respective rooms as you got changed into your sleepwear and took your makeup off, carefully keeping Jake’s jacket on the bed, not once thinking that your pillow would exude a scent like him too. 

It was hard to sleep, as if you had a feeling of giddiness bubbling up inside of you. Even after tossing and turning, you couldn’t find a perfect position to sleep, not to mention how your mind had created a montage of today’s date, replaying it over and over. 

You sighed, staring at the ceiling before closing your eyes shut, hoping you’d get some sleep before waking up for Uni in the morning. And slowly, you drifted to dreamland with Jake’s scent lingering in the air. 

Your alarm clock was your enemy. You really needed a few more minutes to catch up on your sleep, grabbing your phone to see if there’s something that could drive your sleepiness away. 

There was. 

Your picture was the first thing you saw when you opened Instagram, it was posted by Jake instead of being put up as a story, which was unusual since he only had two pictures on his account—one of him and the other one of his pet dog. 

A soft gasp left your mouth, heart thumping out of your chest as you saw the picture. The flash made you glow and you had the tiniest hint of a smile on your face as you looked at the night sky. 

It was indeed your prettiest picture anyone had ever captured, it was exactly what Jake had promised. 

The caption, however, made you turn around and grab your pillow as you screamed into it, kicking your feet. 

My girl, that’s what he wrote in his caption, paired with a red heart. 

You knew it was for show but that didn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach from going feral. It felt too real, the gestures, the little things. It felt more real than your previous real relationship and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. 

It was another day where you had afternoon classes, and so you did not go to the uni with Jake. You had not liked or commented on the picture yet, pondering about how to go on about this. 

Jake had texted you twice, wishing you a good morning first and then asking if you had your lunch yet. You were tempted to reply but first, you gained a slight amount of courage and liked his post. 

You typed a comment with the first thing that came to your mind. 

You’re mine forever ❤️

Your cheeks burned up as you kept your phone down on one of the picnic benches kept around the campus, as that was the exact place you were sitting at after your classes had ended. 

A very whiny and feminine voice called out your name, and you looked up to see Linda along with your ex and your fake boyfriend. The smile on her face was sickening and you wondered what they were doing together. 

Yet again, you did not think twice before getting up and burying your face in Jake’s chest, wrapping your arms around him in an embrace. This shocked Jake, you could feel him go still for a negligible second before a deep laugh boomed up his chest, you could feel him vibrate as he wrapped his arms around your frame. 

“Missed me that much, baby?” He asked, patting your head. 

Sunghoon watched the scene unfold with dark eyes. 

“I missed you so much, baby,” you whispered. 

It was the first time you had used a nickname on anyone, heck you never even called Sunghoon that. 

A cough separated you both and now you couldn’t muster up enough courage to look at Jake while he couldn’t stop looking your way. 

“Linda wants to have lunch together, like a double date,” Jake told you and you saw Linda nod excitedly. 

“It’s so romantic! We even got the lunch packed, see!” She raised her hand to show you two bags which probably had the lunch she was talking about. 

This day couldn’t have gotten more weird. 

“That sounds great!” You tried to sound cheerful but it only came out awkward. 

Good for you, Linda didn’t pick up your tone and clapped excitedly, “we only have thirty minutes because I have my salon appointment after so let’s be fast,” she spoke in a go. 

You noticed Jake sporting the same look of confusion as you, it was an awkward situation indeed. Sunghoon didn’t say a word, only observing you and Jake.  

Jake took the paper bag and got the packed lunches out. He had gotten you your favourite salad with grilled chicken as he opted to get the same dish for himself, not forgetting to get you coke, which you preferred to drink while eating. 

He really paid a lot of attention to your likes and dislikes. 

Linda really couldn’t read the room as she never once stopped talking about this new lingerie set she got for herself, “Hoonie liked it too,” she giggled and you tried to focus on eating, not having it in you to picture it in your mind.  

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” he spoke, his words harsh. 

That was the first time he opened his mouth ever since you started eating. Linda didn’t care, pouting slightly as she started talking again, “let’s play couples quiz!” She squealed. 

You could feel your headache growing with her high pitched voice. 

“Jake, when’s Y/n’s birthday?” She asked. 

He fixed his gaze on you, answering the question correctly. You tried not to be shocked, displaying your sweet smile for them. He actually knew a lot about you, the eye contact made you bite your lower lip before you asked. 

“Sunghoon, when’s Linda’s birthday?” You asked now, questioning him directly, which he did not expect. 

“Third of February,” he said and Linda gasped, offended. 

“That’s not my birthday!” She almost screamed, bickering with him for a solid minute as Jake passed you a few tissues, seeing the salad get on your fingers. 

“Okay, next question,” she said and she kept on asking him questions as if it was a rapid fire round and Jake answered each of them correctly. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, he knew your favourite colour, your favourite tv show and singer, your favourite cake and song. 

Sunghoon knew nothing. 

Linda didn’t know a thing about Sunghoon either, just like he never knew a thing about Linda. 

Sunghoon slammed his fist on the table, getting up and walking away without any second glance, you almost jumped with how loud the sound was, your hand resting on top of your chest to soothe your nerves. 

Linda ran after him, or rather she tried to run after him in her heels. 

“Are you okay?” Jake asked you softly, his fingers caressing your cheek as he searched your face for any kind of discomfort. 

You nodded, gulping and looking away. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Your skin wouldn’t stop tingling where he had touched you, it was almost impossible for you to breathe when he was so close to you. 

“Y—yeah, I’m okay. I think I should go and get my assignments done now, yeah,” you said, fumbling over your words as Jake frowned, wondering if he did something wrong. 

“Y/n—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You waved at him, almost running away, leaving him with a dejected sigh. 

Of course, you didn’t have to answer his questions, he reminded himself. It was a fake relationship after all. 

So, while you laid in your bed with your pillow clutched close to your chest, Jake stood in front of Sunghoon at their apartment. 

“Since when do you eat salad?” Sunghoon asked, tone somewhat disappointing. laced with a hint of jealousy. 

“Y/n likes it,” Jake smiled softly, “It was hard not to like it after.”

“You hated coffee,” Sunghoon almost accused. 

“I like it now, it’s normal to develop your taste,” Jake replied calmly. 

“You’ve never gone on a date before, you’ve never had this kind of hairstyle before. You’re changing yourself and for what?” Sunghoon sighed, shoulders dropping when he accused him again. 

Jake only bit his lip, “love does things to you and I think I'm changing for the better.”

Love. 

That’s all Sunghoon had to hear before leaving the room. 

“Why are you sulking, babygirl?” Yunjin asked you the next day, seeing you sitting with your blanket wrapped around you, a piece of chip in your mouth as you lazily snacked on it. 

“Nothing,” you mumbled, hiding your face. 

Yunjin rolled her eyes, “you were squealing in the morning yesterday, what changed?” 

You sighed deeply, “I guess I’m just feeling a bit down today,” you shrugged. 

She sat down on the bed, right in front of you before pulling you in the most warm and comfortable hug. It was something you appreciated even more this particular day. You felt conflicted with your feelings. 

It’s the little things, it’s always the little things when it comes to Jake, it creates a bigger picture for him. But for Sunghoon, it was only the larger picture with no elements supporting it. 

“That’s the problem, babygirl. I’m not gonna let you drown in your own blanket all evening. You’re coming with me to the party,” Yunjin stated, opening your closet to select an outfit for you already. 

Turns out that Yunjin can be a great manipulator because there was no way you’d be standing in the middle of a party with a vodka shot in your hand otherwise. 

Maybe drinking would help you, it always does. It’s almost pathetic how you’re ready to get shitfaced for a whole night just to get rid of intrusive thoughts, the thoughts which consisted of Jake and Jake only. 

You drank that shot in a go, getting another one as Heeseung tried to stop you but to no avail. Once you had taken three shots, all in a row, you turned around to find Karina, who looked as if she spent a while trying to find you. 

“Y/n! Where have you been?” She asked, grabbing your hand, “come, we’re gonna play upstairs.” Without much fighting, she dragged you upstairs and Heeseung followed behind. 

You wondered what Jake would be doing right now. 

The multicoloured lights were shining bright as they covered the expanse of the whole staircase, which you had trouble walking up, courtesy of your heels and a very short dress. 

Karina opened the door to a room and your eyes immediately scanned the surroundings to understand who you were going to deal with tonight. 

It was your whole friend group and some of their mutual friends too, however that wasn’t why you stood frozen in your spot at the given moment. 

Jake Sim, the guy you had been avoiding since yesterday, was sitting in the same circle, the bean bags, sofas and chairs were arranged to be that way, as he sipped on a can of beer which he held in his slender fingers. 

Seeing him at the party was shocking enough as he rarely attended any, but to add on to it, he was all dressed up as well. 

He sipped on the drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulped. The side angle gave you the best view of his undercut and defined jawline, your eyes travelling down to his chest, which was exposed as the top few buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned, a black leather jacket covering him up as he also sported a few rings on his long, veiny fingers, a necklace gracing his slender neck. 

You almost forgot how to breathe until Karina pushed you forward, which gained the attention of Jake, who smiled your way as he expected you to come over to him. 

Karina and Yunjin high fived in the background, meaning; it was their plan for you both to meet at the party. 

Your heels clicked as you walked towards him, it was as if you both were the only ones in the room at the given moment. He wasn’t being subtle as he stared at you, especially how he looked up when you stood next to him. 

“Baby,” he whispered, pulling you to him—which was something you never expected. 

You landed straight on his lap, his arm wrapped around you securely as the other one rested on your thigh, covering up your skin which was showing, courtesy of your short dress. 

Your mind blanked, you couldn’t think anymore as goosebumps rose up your arms when he spoke in his deep voice, the others also stopped to stare at you both as he was not the one to show affection in public. 

Heeseung and Yunjin teased you both, yet that wasn’t something you paid much attention to. You didn’t even see Sunghoon sitting in the same room, as if he wasn’t anyone to you anymore. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered, making you sit close to him, your hand working on its own as it held on to his broad shoulder for support. 

You should have been used to this whole fake dating plan of yours, yet you couldn’t ever get used to Jake’s constant surprises. It didn’t feel like it was fake when it came to him and it most certainly wasn’t a help how you could feel the alcohol kicking in, his hand felt warm on your cold skin. 

“Jake,” you whispered, looking at him with hooded eyes. 

However, you never got to say anything further as others had decided on playing a classic game of twenty one dares. 

The first dare went to Mark, who was given the dare to kiss his crush who sat right next to him. 

“Why were you avoiding me all day?” Jake asked in a whisper when everyone else was busy cheering for Mark. 

You had no answer for it, nor did you have any way to control your heart which was thumping out of your rib cage with the proximity. 

You breathed out with a chuckle which sounded forced, grabbing a beer can which was on the table in front of you, “avoiding you? Why would I?” You asked, looking away. 

That wasn’t much help as he was quick to grab your chin, making you look his way again, “did I do something wrong?” 

His actions were bold, yet his voice was sweet and full of concern. You shook your head, resting it on his shoulder, “of course not,” you whispered, not having it in you to look at him, “you’re really perfect, Jake.”

He wasn’t given any time to react as others cheered. 

Apparently, it was your turn to get a dare and the evil smile on Jay’s face gave it all away, as if he knew exactly what was going on between you two. 

“I dare you to kiss Jake,” he smirked as everyone minus Sunghoon clapped, Mark nodding, still red from the kiss. 

“True, we’ve never seen you kiss,” Hee muttered in realization. 

You stopped breathing, seeing everyone cheering for you. You had fake kissed him when Sunghoon was watching that one day in the lawns, yet this was a whole different story when they were demanding an actual kiss from you both. 

Jake’s hand tightened around your waist, your dazed eyes taking in his expression as he raised his hand to cup your cheek, caressing the corner of your lips gently, as if he was asking for your permission. 

You knew you were drunk, yet all your senses made you feel as though you were the sanest person alive. The anticipation felt so painful and you could feel Sunghoon’s stare on you both. 

With a tender sigh, your eyes closed shut as you grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulling him into you. 

Your lips collided in a fervent kiss, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging it ever so slightly, causing him to groan into your mouth as his hand supported the back of your head, tilting it slightly as your desire and passion fused together, transcending your surroundings. 

You couldn’t hear the whistling or screaming around your surroundings, your mind completely gave in to the pretty boy, who was kissing you like his life depended upon it. 

His lips were soft, perfectly moulding against yours as you moved them in harmony, letting the sheer pleasure take over your senses to the point you couldn’t differentiate between whether you were drunk which made you feel as if you were in the state of unadulterated ecstasy or it was simply Jake’s effect on your body. 

You didn’t pay attention to Sunghoon, who threw the beer can on the floor, walking away from the room, nor did you care about Linda who ran after him. 

All you knew was that Jake Sim was kissing you and he was exceptionally amazing at it. 

He squeezes your waist as you gasped, letting him bite your lower lip, lacking his usual self control as he mentally claimed you to be too intoxicating for him. 

“Hey! Get a fucking room!” Jay shouted. 

That was enough for you to break the kiss, your eyes still closed as your chest heaved up and down, blood rushing to your cheeks as you felt tingly all over, the shiver going down your spine all the way to your abdomen. 

Jake was already staring at you by the time your eyes fluttered open. His lips looked plump, slightly swollen from how you had kissed him, the veins on his neck seemed even more prominent but his eyes—they were dark, laced with lust. 

He didn’t wish to stop. 

You didn’t want him to stop. 

He got up from the chair, making you stand up along with him, his fingers quick to intertwine with yours as he pulled you with him, your wide eyes drifting to look at Karina who only winked at you, giving a thumbs up alongside it. 

“Jake,” you breathed, following him out and into an empty room, which he locked before pushing you against the wooden door. 

You could barely stand given how weak your knees felt at that exact moment. It most certainly didn’t help that Jake bent down to your level, the dim lights of the room making his skin shine as he asked you again. 

“Why were you avoiding me, Y/n?” His tone gave you goosebumps when you heard your name roll out of his tongue. 

Forming sentences felt like a tough job when his lips were borderline touching yours, “because,” you whispered mindlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Your voice was quiet, just like the room, which made it sound louder than intended as you looked him up through your lashes. 

His jaw was clenched, you could notice him breathing deep, his hold on you tight and you chuckled deeply, alcohol taking over your senses, “I can’t stop thinking of you, Jaeyun.”

You didn’t let him reply before you pressed your lips onto his, your bodies pressed against each other, mouths moving as your lips melded and parted, his hands all over your body, every touch igniting a spark in you. 

He tapped your thigh twice and you got the memo, jumping into his arms as he picked you up with ease, muscles flexing in the process but his lips never left yours while he walked towards the bed, helping you lie down as he got on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist as your dress started riding up your thigh. 

He leaned back, eyes fixated on yours but you only continued to pepper kisses along his jawline, and down his neck, making him growl as he stopped you from unbuttoning his shirt. 

“You’re drunk, baby. I don’t want you to regret anything in the morning,” he says softly, breathing in your scent as he inhales deeply. 

“I’m not,” you whined, switching your positions to be sitting in front of him, trying to remove his jacket, before he stops you with his fingers wrapping around your wrist. 

He cupped your cheek as you looked at him sadly, “tell me, do you not want me?” You’d ask, playing with his necklace. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. He couldn’t hold himself back, not when your eyes sparkled with innocence and undeniable glimmer of need, “you have no idea, darling,” he chuckles, running his thumb on your lower lip, which was still wet from your kiss, “I want you so fucking much.”

That was enough for you to smile at him, eyes hazy as you slid off the bed and got on your knees, unbuckling his belt as you fumbled with the button of his jeans while Jake couldn’t believe this was happening. 

The strap of your dress slid down, revealing more of your cleavage, that’s exactly when you helped him get out of his jeans, revealing his boxers. Your fingers grazed his clothed cock, your lips tugging up as you saw him groan, even more so when you kissed his semi-hardened cock. 

His eyes never left yours during the entire time you teased him, getting his leather jacket off, leaving him in his white button up and boxers, which you pulled down in a go. 

A shiver went down your abdomen, making you close your thighs with how big he was. His cock was hard, leaking with precum that made your mouth water. He had the biggest cock you had ever witnessed in your life, girth and veiny too. 

He sucks in a sharp breath when you take him in your small hand, squeezing it a smidge before planting featherlight kisses all over his length, swirling your tongue around his head, he bit his lip as he took the scene in front of him. You licked big stripes of his length before taking his head into your mouth. 

That snapped him out of his daze, he couldn’t take your teasing any longer. Pushing himself up slightly, he spread his legs to accommodate your body between it as he grabbed your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you took him in, your hands stroking the base where your lips couldn’t reach. 

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groaned, pushing your head to hold his cock in you even deeper. 

You can’t help but think how he looks nothing like his sweet self in the given moment, he looks like a devil who’s thirsting for lust, his eyes dark and so immersed in your activities. 

His length throbs in your mouth as you continue your ministrations, quickening your pace as you sucked him off with all you had, hearing him growl made you realize how your panties were soaking wet when you release him with a satisfying pop sound, looking up at him again.

He sat straighter, his thumb wiping the saliva that was all over your chin and lips before pulling you up on the bed, spreading your legs to see a wet patch on your panties as you struggled to take your dress off. 

He chuckled deeply, “Oh, bunny. Let me help you with that,” he says, cursing once he sees you without any bra, his fingers tracing your neck, your clavicle and going all the way down to pay attention to your tits. 

However, that’s not all he does. Your toes curl when he yanks your panties to the side, immersing his tongue to tease your clit before he licks and sucks you thoroughly, humming against your folds as he gets drunk on the taste of your juices. 

His tongue prods on your entrance, pushing it in as your fingers grabbed his roots, tugging on his hair which also elicited a deep groan from him, your eyes rolling back with how ecstatic you felt. 

He fucked your cunt, pushing his tongue in while his thumb worked wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you squirm around, finally moaning out, “Jake, oh god!” You cried out. 

“That’s it baby, scream my name,” he whispers against you, the moist squelching noises filling up the room as you arched your back, your body shaking with how you could feel your high approaching, as he yearned for your pussy, not stopping once, as if he had completely plunged his body to focus on your pleasure and your pleasure only. 

You chanted his name as if it was a mantra you had to recite, and that’s exactly when you felt your stomach tightening, a teardrop leaving the corner of your eye, cascading down your neck as you allowed yourself to feel the unadulterated bliss Jake provided you with. 

It wasn’t the alcohol, you admitted. 

You were drunk on Jake. 

You breathed in deeply as he licked you up, finally getting up as he rolled your nipples between the rough pads of his fingers before he also removed his last article of clothing, leaving you to see the shadow of his abs and pecs clearly. 

“Tell me you won’t regret this in the morning, baby,” he breathes out, searching your eyes as his length brushes against your sensitive cunt. 

“I won’t,” you promised, “I want you, I need you, Jake,” you cried out as his eyes turned hooded. 

He silenced your loud moan with his lips on yours, your nails digging into his back as he gave a sharp thrust, filling you up till he bottomed out easily with how wet you were, kissing your tears away and giving you a minimum of two seconds before he grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head. 

“Do you know how pretty you look right now, bunny?” He asks, giving you another sharp thrust, this particular one hitting your g-spot, which had you whimpering out his name, “all mine, yeah?” He asks, thrusting harder, his hips slapping your ass. 

“Y—yours!” You managed to speak, eyes closing shut with pleasure. 

“Open your eyes, baby. Look at me when I fuck your pretty little cunt,” he whispers as your wail out when his cock hits your cervix. 

He takes his time to kiss and mark your neck, his teeth digging in as he sucks on your sensitive skin harsh enough to leave marks. 

It was effortless how he moved in and out of you so easily despite groaning about how tight your little hole was and you felt dumb, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak. You simply knew and felt one thing and that was Jake. 

He manhandled you easily, turning you around and lifting your ass up, your face buried into the pillow as your mascara smudged, just how your lipstick was smudged all over your cheeks. 

He thrusted into you yet again, smacking your ass as he saw it jiggle with the impact, another moan reverberated the room, which made him spank you twice more before he started fucking you again, your walls clenching around him with need as he gave you almost brutal backshots. 

“I’m—Fuck!” You cried out, almost passing out as you breathed in deeply. 

You both were so close, his cock twitched in you as his thrusts got sharper, “go on, bunny. Cream my cock like a good fucking girl,” he groaned. 

You withered beneath him as you screamed out his name with sheer pleasure as you reached your high, coating his cock with your juices before he also moaned deeply, fucking his cum into your glistening pussy. 

He breathed in deeply as he pulled out, staring at your cunt which was dripping with your juices mixed together. 

He sighed softly, holding you in his arms, “baby,” he whispered softly as you initiated a soft kiss, getting on his lap again as your heart beat rose up to the point you could hear it in your ears while Jake felt the same way. 

He could see how exhausted you were by how you started dozing off in his arms. He didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, he didn’t want to know. All he wanted was to have you in his arms now and freeze the time. 

It took him time to get up as he helped you get dressed up again, before he picked you up in his arms, getting down to see the party winding up. You were asleep and cuddling into him, his heart still racing as he saw Yunjin smiling at you two, “take her home with you,” she said, “and you better take care of her,” she added as a genuine warning, which made Jake nod earnestly. 

He would never hurt you.  

He really was perfect with how he took you to his room safely, with how he tried to remove your makeup even though he had no idea what he was doing, yet he was gentle as you slept with how drunk and exhausted you were. He made sure to change your clothes to his loose ones, just so you would sleep comfortably. 

He had fucked you, however he still was respectful and tried to not look your way while he changed your clothes. 

You looked so peaceful as you snuggled close to his pillow in his bed, he couldn’t help but stare at you with a soft smile as he kissed your forehead, “sleep well, baby.” He whispered as he slid under the covers next to you, holding you as if he was scared he’d lose you, his body shivering ever so slightly at the thought as he cradled you in his arms. 

Jake really was perfect. 

Your body was sore, the sunlight almost blinding you, adding on to the throbbing pain in your head as you shifted around the covers, opening your eyes with a groan to find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings. 

A low cry left your lips as the memories of the past night flooded into your mind, the graphic details of Jake and you, the way he had asked you if you’d regret it. 

You didn’t regret a thing. 

And neither did you know how you’d face him after this. Yes, everything that started off as a fake relationship but even you couldn’t deny that none of it felt fake to you. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you saw a little note on the nightstand saying—

Good morning, sweetheart <3 Please take this medicine when you wake up and also drink the hangover soup! I’ll be at Uni and will be back by the time you wake up, love. 

“Why do you have to be so perfect?” You whined to yourself, kicking your feet, “why do you have to make me feel this way?” You whispered to yourself, gulping and looking at the medicines and a bowl of soup on the nightstand. 

You didn’t realize that you were wearing Jake’s clothes till you spilled a little drop of soup on it, eyes widening for the nth time today as you gasped. 

You couldn’t stay anymore, you got up and rushed to grab your clothes, which were folded neatly before you changed into them with a rush, getting out of his room while you checked your phone, bumping into a hard chest. 

You winced, looking up as your expression dropped.  Park Sunghoon stood there, his eyes sad as he searched your face for some kind of emotion, any kind of emotion, however you didn’t give him anything, choosing to walk away but he was quick to grab your wrist. 

“Y/n,” he spoke your name in desperation and you tried your best not to turn around, yet you did, looking at his regret stricken face as he spoke further, “I broke up with Linda,” he started and you almost snorted. 

“Well, good for you,” you said, turning around yet again, only to be stopped. 

“Don’t fucking do this, Y/n,” he breathes, eyes watery, “I know you and Jake aren’t dating. Come back to me, baby, I regret everything I did to you, please?” He almost begs. 

“Don’t call me that,” you seethed out, “you know nothing about us and it’s too late, Sunghoon. I don’t want you.”

He didn’t let you leave, pulling you into a hug as you struggled to get away, “I know you’re angry and you don’t mean it. Let’s be together again, we used to be so happy,” he whispered. 

“And you fucking ruined it,” you cried out, pushing him away, “you ruined everything and you never cared about us! But y’know what? Jake isn’t like you. He’s kind, caring and he’s genuine about everything,” you let out, stepping away, “I love him.” 

Saying that out loud felt like you had lifted a boulder off your chest. Your face was equally surprised as Sunghoon, but you didn’t stay any longer, shaking your head as you rushed out of the apartment and got into the safety of your own dorm. 

You loved Jake. 

And you were sure he didn’t feel the same, it was all fake for him. You sat in your bathtub for hours, pondering and mentally slapping yourself for letting this happen but it was beyond you. Jake was so easy to love. 

What scared you the most that he hadn’t called you once, nor did he reply to any of your texts throughout the day. Your heart broke into pieces when he didn’t show up in front of your dorm to pick you up. 

You were sure he hated you for drunkenly acting up that night, maybe that’s why he kept avoiding you. You had ruined everything. 

The plan for the day wasn’t to attend the classes, but to find Jake. Every second that passed by without him talking to you felt like a punishment, as if your anxiety would eat you up through and through. 

He wasn’t by the lawns, he wasn’t in the cafeteria and you could feel your eyes welling up with tears of frustration when you couldn’t find Jake. Yet you didn’t lose hope as you thought that he’d be in his lectures. 

A big smile etched your face when you found him standing in front of his locker and you sprinted his way, which startled him. It was as if he didn’t expect to see you in front of him, his eyes leaving yours for a second before he smiled at you. 

It was forced. 

“Jake,” you breathed out as you felt fidgety, “can we talk?” 

He bit his lower lip, not answering for a few seconds before he nodded, guiding you towards the rooftop for privacy, not uttering a word throughout the way. 

You stood side by side, watching the cloudy sky as he finally looked your way, “congratulations,” he let out, trying to smile. 

You looked at him, confused which only made him speak further. 

“I saw you and Sunghoon hugging,” his voice broke but he gained his composure, “I know you’re probably back together now and you don’t need me—”

“Jake,” you whispered, shaking your head as you stepped closer to stop him, yet he continued. 

“We don’t have to fake date anymore,” he nodded, looking at his feet, “I’m glad I could help you forget about him for some time and also with your revenge—”

You were on the verge of crying by now as you whispered his name again. 

“I’m so stupid to have thought that maybe it won’t be fake, but I know you want Sunghoon—”

“Don’t you fucking see that I want you? Sunghoon and I talked, yes we did and I told him I don’t want him. I don’t fucking want him, Jake. You’re not a rebound to me, This isn’t fake to me anymore, I don’t think it ever felt fake to me,” you let out your frustrations, shutting him up fully. 

“My heart feels like it would beat out of my chest every fucking time I’m near you, this longing intensifies each day and it scares me so much,” a crystalline tear escaped your eyes and Jake was quick to cup your face, as if on instinct and wipe it away, “you do this sweet things no one ever did for me, you remember the smallest details about me that no one else seems to care about and I feel restless when we don’t talk. I’ve grown so used to being around you, it’s not fucking fake. I think—I’m falling in love with you Jake,” you finally let out. 

“You—you love me?” He asks, voice barely a whisper as he finds it hard to breathe and you nod, his slender fingers still cupping your cheek, “you hugged Sunghoon—”

“I pushed him away,” you said in a beat, “he hugged me, I didn’t,” you assured him, grabbing his hand which rested on your cheek, “I told him I love you.”

Jake pulled you in his embrace, his body shook slightly which broke your heart thinking how he had it all wrong, you never wanted to see him hurt, just like how he always wished for you to be happy. 

He held you tighter, making you feel safe as warmth bloomed up your chest, “I liked you ever since I saw you trying to play guitar with Jay on the day we met, but Sunghoon was faster to reach out to you,” he confesses and you part your mouth with surprise as he leaned back to look at you, chuckling ever so lightly, “I hated how he treated you but when you came to me for help, I got selfish and used this to get closer to you, even if it meant that I’d have to fake date you,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, “but I fell harder each day, even more so when I had to hold your hand and it felt so small against mine yet it fit perfectly, when you dressed up so beautifully for a fake date with me, when you looked so adorable in my jacket, when you remembered my birthday and my likes which even I hadn’t noticed before. I fell in love with you, baby,” he smiled through the tears as you pulled him in for a kiss, both of you smiling uncontrollably as it full of tenderness and affection, your hearts beating together as you shared unspoken promises through it. 

You weren’t fake dating anymore as you looked at him with a silly smile, taking the document of your agreement out before scratching out a line. 

Rule number one: Don’t fall in love. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 11th. blaise - mirror sex, body worship.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: writing this was detrimental to my health. blaise is a man. a MAN. you’re having a terrible day, your boyfriend knows what you need to make it better.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, PIV, fingering, multiorgasm, teasing, begging, doggystyle, dirty talk, praise so much praise, body worship, soft dom blaise, pet names, the usual nasty shit you'll find this month.

"Yeah that's what I said...he didn't listen to me, though. Of course."

Parchment crinkled under the weight of your hand, quill scratching faintly as your boyfriends voice hummed in the background—an effortless drawl that filled the room like low music. You barely caught the words, caught up in the mechanical rhythm of  your writing—but that didn't stop him from droning on, stretched out like a relaxed cat on your bed—one leg bent, both hands tucked behind his head, his gaze lost somewhere in the ceiling's quiet expanse.

"And? What happened?" You asked, finally letting the quill drop, grimacing at the ink smudged across your fingers.

"Detention," he said, clearly amused, "cleaning rat barrels for a week."

You managed a smile, but it was small, fleeting—more like a shadow of the real thing. Blaise noticed, of course he did, but he let it linger undisturbed, as if waiting for the right moment to ask what was really wrong. His stories were always an offering, an attempt to pull you from the depths of a day that felt as heavy as the sky before a storm—which usually helped, but today, even he couldn't shake the weight entirely.

You rolled away from your desk, chair wheels creaking until you reached the mirror. There you were, reflected back at yourself—no makeup, hair half-tumbling from the ponytail you'd given up on hours ago, the lines under your eyes telling a story you didn't want to read. You sighed, lifting a hand to touch the flyaway strands, knowing it wouldn't help. You were a bloody disaster.

"What're you lookin' at, baby?" Blaise was behind you before you even realized it, his warmth filling the space behind your chair, his arms snaking around your waist with the same natural ease as breathing. "Did I tell you you look beautiful today?"

You exhaled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his eyes meeting yours in the glass—

"Don't lie, Blaise," you muttered, the exhaustion making your voice heavier than it should've been. "I look a mess."

"Not a lie," he whispered back, his lips so close you could almost taste the mint on his tongue. His hand lifted, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down the side of your face like it was something sacred, like you weren't just a tired girl with too many thoughts. "You're always beautiful...so, so beautiful."

The heat from his words bloomed in your chest, a slow burn, even as the weight of the day pressed heavier. It felt as though the reflection was mocking you—this version of yourself you could barely recognize, worn down by everything that had gone wrong.

"I can tell when something's bothering you," he pressed on, his voice drawing you back, patient and unhurried. His fingers made soft circles on your stomach, waiting, coaxing. "Wanna tell me?"

"Nothing's bothering me...I just.." you shook your head, the words coming out on a breath, too small to carry the weight of what you meant. "I just had a bloody terrible day."

He hummed, thumb grazing your skin. "How terrible?"

"The kind that makes you feel like the universe is against you," you whispered, gaze falling, unable to look at him while your voice cracked. "I'm sorry—I know you wanted to go out tonight, but I just—"

"Shh—hey, don't do that," he interrupted, his fingers tilting your chin, forcing your eyes back to his in the mirror. "I don't care about going out. I care about you. We don't need to be anywhere else. I've got everything I need right here, baby. Okay?"

Merlin—your heart clenched, the ache reminding you just how easy it was to fall in love with him—and how you managed to do so, all over again, every single day. Blaise always had this way of making you feel like the center of the world, even on days when you felt like you were disappearing from it.

A small, trembling smile ghosted across your lips, and you nodded. "Okay."

"Yeah?" He nudged your chin gently, brushing more stray hair from your face—he never once took his fucking eyes off of you. "You're so fucking beautiful, babygirl...how are you all mine..."

A sigh escaped your lips as his fingers moved to massage your shoulders, his lips finding their way back to the curve of your neck, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your skin. The tension in your body began to melt, replaced by something warmer, softer.

"Messy hair, no makeup...you're a fucking dream," he whispered. "Every morning I wake up...and I still can't believe..." his hands trailed down your arms, a slow blaze of fire, grazing over your belly before they curved up your chest. "...that all of this...is all for me..."

Your head tipped back, a soft whimper slipping from your lips as he pressed himself closer. One of his hands slid back up, fingers curling around the base of your throat, his thumb stroking the side of your neck. He groaned softly against your temple, other hand still pawing at your chest.

"Look at you," he rasped as his eyes met yours again in the mirror. You could feel his gaze tracing the outline of his hand wrapped around your throat. "Tell me you know you're beautiful."

Your heart was racing, breaths coming in shallow bursts as the intensity of his touch, his words, filled the room. He was crowding over you, pressed against the back of your chair, his hands insistent but not frantic, like he had all the time in the world—

"I know," you whispered. "You tell me every day..."

He hummed, the sound vibrating in his throat. "Mhm…and I'll keep telling you…because I don't think you get it yet...just how truly beautiful you are…”

Your lashes fluttered, eyes heavy beneath the weight of his gaze as his fingers moved lower, the buttons of your shirt parting effortlessly, baring the delicate lace underneath.

His jaw clenched, hunger flickering behind his eyes, his touch roughening with it. “…and just how lucky I am... to get to touch you like this."

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, your back arched, baring yourself to him with a shivering sigh. His hand around your throat tightened, not too much, just enough to remind you he held you, that in this moment —this skin—belonged to him.

His other hand moved across your chest, teasing your nipples through the lacy fabric, kneading, coaxing your heart to race under his palm.

"I'm a better man because of you," he whispered, lips ghosting over the pulse at your neck. “...because you make me want to be."

Your whimper came unbidden, warmth flooding your veins as his eyes never left yours—devouring you through the glass. This wasn't just about touch. It was something Blaise always made sure you felt in this relationship, the thing tethered between you—the fulfilment of a need to be seen and a need to be known.

"Look at you." His lips tilted in a breathy smile, dripping with reverence, with something sacred as his hand roved over your chest, taking his time. "Perfect. So fucking perfect."

Both big hands fell to massage your tits now and a small, broken sound escaped you—helpless against the onslaught, your body betraying your efforts at control. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to stem the flood, but it was useless. Blaise, like this, was unrelenting, determined to make you remember this moment, every whisper, every touch. His voice was an echo you'd hear in your dreams.

"Blaise..." his name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper. “Gods.”

"Open those pretty eyes for me, babygirl..." he purred  as his teeth grazed the curve of your neck. You obeyed with a shiver—your reflection pure chaos — a mess of need and want, heat pooling low in your belly, an ache between your legs you couldn't ignore. Blaise hummed. "I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see what I see."

His hands slid lower, skimming the curve of your hips and settling on your thighs. You watched as he moved with deliberation, savouring the way your skin shivered beneath his touch. He shifted your legs wider, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher until it bunched around your waist. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you weren't sure who was falling apart faster—him or you.

"Fuck," you moaned, barely holding onto the sound, feeling it slip past your lips like a breath. "Blaise.."

With a satisfied smile, his eyes flicked to yours and you noted the way his breathing shallowed—admired the way his fingers slipped along the insides of your thighs, tracing the soft skin without haste. The sensation made your breath hitch, and you bit down on your lip, fighting to keep your eyes open.

A low groan rumbled from deep in his chest as he pushed your skirt up further, exposing your underwear in the reflection.

"That's my girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with adoration. "These thighs...mm, fuck...so soft.."

His fingers dragged back down, agonizingly slow, tracing your thighs again.

You shuddered. You knew just how needy you sounded but gods—"Blaise, please..."

Blaise knew too, and of course he just chuckled, lips grazing the curve of your shoulder, his teeth catching on the fabric there. The nip was gentle at first, but just enough to make you gasp, your hips jerking reflexively—and you watched his eyes flash, lashes fluttering—

"Fuck...these hips," now he was growling, his nails biting into your skin. "The way you roll them...torture, pure torture... just to make me give you what you want..."

Your breath hitched again. You were a squirming mess, now—each fucking word a slow burn that licked at every nerve.

"Is that so bad?" You whispered, though the words barely left your mouth before a soft moan interrupted them. "Making you…give me what I want...?"

His laugh was rougher this time, his breath searing hot against your ear. One hand moved again, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear—and you realized you were holding your fucking breath—meeting his gaze in the mirror, wide and wanting, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

"Not so bad...when I want to give it to you..." his fingers danced over your clothed cunt—light, taunting, threatening to give you everything you craved but holding just shy of it. Your hips rolled again, involuntarily. "But absolutely disastrous," his fingers traced higher, the ache of wanting made your pulse thunder. "...when I'm trying to make you wait."

You whimpered, snuffing a groan in your throat, and he smiled—watching the effect, his jaw falling open when he grazed over your clit through the fabric and you moaned loud—shameless.

"Gods—Blaise, please—" you were so fucking desperate now. Heat scorching your skin. Eyes squeezed shut. He was going to kill you, you were sure of it. “No more teasing—“

"Eyes open." He husked, bringing one hand back up to cup your jaw. "You close them and I'll stop. Keep being good for me, baby..."

You whinged—meeting his dark eyes in the mirror, lust blown pupils swallowing his irises. You watched yourself—his arms curled around you, strong and firm—long, slender fingers finally, fucking finally, giving you what you want—slipping under your underwear, fingertips kissing the sensitive lips of your throbbing cunt.

"Good girl...so good for me..." he muttered, slicking a single digit between your folds, grazing your clit. That did it—blinded with relief, you whinged, moaning deep in your chest. "Oh fuck, you're so wet...you need this, don't you, baby..."

"Yes—Gods—" you held his eyes in the mirror, hips jerking toward his touch. "Need it...need you..."

"So sensitive f'me..." he whispered in your ear, brushing the bundle of nerves again, earning another shuddered groan. He kissed at your jaw. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say that...that you need me..."

"Fuck—I do—always—" the words bled out, unfiltered. "Always need you."

Blaise shuddered, you could feel his hips rocking gently against the back of the chair as his fingers found your clit, indefinitely this time, and began drawing tight, frantic circles over it. Your back crested, your head falling back just slightly before you remembered what he said and returned your gaze to his in the mirror—he was watching you, body crowding yours like he was preparing a meal—and you spread your legs wider, noting the entire mess he'd made of you in minutes.

"Beautiful," he cooed, jaw tensing as you gripped his wrist—one hand shifting to grope your chest. "Messy girl...m'dying to get inside you..."

You cried out, your pussy clenching, craving to be filled by him. "Blaise—baby—please..."

Wetness soaked your thighs—coated his fingers as he dipped lower and pushed two inside you, crooking them deep. The reaction was involuntary—you cried out, ground your hips into his palm, fucking yourself on his digits, wanting—no, needing more. He groaned, squeezing your breast harder than you're sure he'd intended—teeth sinking into your shoulder in a futile attempt to compose himself.

"Fucking hell—that's it, baby—" his thumb twirled your clit, fingers driving deep—bliss burned your eyes, and you moaned. "Soaked and still so fucking tight...fuck.."

"M'gonna—I need you—" you were babbling, lost in sensation, coherent thoughts banished to the perimeters of your mind. "Inside—pleasepleaseplease—need you—"

"Cum first," his hand on your breast slipped up, tangling through your hair and nudging your face toward his—his lips found yours, soft and tender. "Wanna' make you feel good..."

Pleasure flooded you, muscles collapsing as you succumbed to it—Blaise kissed you again, holding you there, tongue delving into your mouth while he rubbed your swollen nub faster, pumped his fingers deeper.

"I...oh, Gods—already feel s'good..." you moaned into him, and he jerked you harder to his body, tongue massaging yours while his plush lips worked over your mouth. "Mm—fuck—s'good—"

He groaned. "Mhm—cum for me."

And then you did—every nerve in your body ignited at once. The obscene, wet sounds of him pumping his fingers into you filled the room, a rhythm that matched the frantic pulse in your ears. His mouth smothered the desperate cries of pleasure that fought to break free as your body convulsed, writhing against him. Your hips bucked, helplessly seeking more, fingers digging into his wrist like anchors as your entire world spun wildly out of control. He was both your rock and your undoing—keeping you tethered to earth while hurling you into the stars.

It felt like you were suspended in that ecstasy forever, the air leaving your lungs in shattered gasps, until, at last, your breathing found its rhythm again. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, his own breath shaky, eyes dark with hunger. He brought his slick-coated fingers to your lips, pressing them past, and you groaned as you took him in, suckling greedily.

"You like that?" His voice was a low rumble, vibrating against your spine. You moaned in response, your tongue swirling around his digits, eyes fluttering shut at the taste of yourself. His other hand moved, urgently, his belt coming undone and echoing through the room as he freed himself, groaning, "Fuck."

Blaise had lost his composure completely—you didn't need to look at him to know it. In an instant, you were on your feet, his hands pulling you up as he kicked your chair out of the way, rolling into the wall with a thud. You turned your head to look at it but his lips crashed into yours, both hands cradling your face as he sank to his knees, dragging you down with him. The hardwood floor beneath you was cold, but his touch—his touch was a wildfire, scorching every inch of your skin, setting your blood to boil.

You moved instinctively and gasped as your fingers found him, warm and hard in your palm, twitching at your touch. He growled low in his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily as you stroked him, kneeling together on the floor, breaths mingling in the heated space between you. The moment stretched, unbearably tense, until with a swift motion, he spun you around, turning you to face the mirror.

His hands were everywhere—on your hips, sliding down your thighs, grazing the curve of your waist—pulling your skirt higher as he met your eyes over your shoulder in the reflection—

"Look at yourself," his fingers tightened on your hips, guiding you back against him, his length slicking between your thighs, grazing against your heat. "See what you do to me."

You gasped, melting into him, tightening your thighs around his shaft, fighting to keep your eyes on his in the mirror. Blaise exhaled, cranking your throat to the side and snatching a breast before biting the meat of your shoulder, cock pulsing when you whinged in delighted pain.

"Blaise—fuck—please..." your cunt clenched with anticipation, heat at your cheeks as you watched yourself in the mirror, desperately trying to tip your hips so he'd slide in. "Please, fuck me—"

Your voice was ruined. Music to his ears. Blaise could never deny that begging.

"Shit, baby..." he pressed in, leaning you forward until you were resting on your elbows in front of the mirror—seething as his girth stretched you open—splitting you wide in a way that made your eyes roll. He pulsed at your entrance, taking his time, letting you bask in the drag of your walls along his swollen length. In his reflection, his were lips parted, chest working with broken breath. "So goddamn tight..."

"Fuck," you moaned, unbridled, his hands bruising your hips as he picked up the pace. "Yes—mm—Gods, yes—"

The power of his thrusts stole your breath, quaked your bones, your cries of pleasure hiccuped by the rapid strokes of his hips. Blaise was the most patient man you'd ever met, until he wasn't. He groaned, his eyes trained on your ass, skin smacking skin with loud slaps—you were captivated, unable to think or speak or do anything other than watch—fire stoked by the sheer eroticism of watching him fuck your pussy. A hard, vicious plunge—you shrieked, and you could see him smirk to himself before gracing your ass with a soft smack, piercing your cervix.

"Sexy little thing. All fucking mine." He wound your hair in his fist, popping your neck back to hunch over you. "You like that, hm? Watching yourself get fucked?"

You whimpered, neck aching with the force of his grip, nails digging into your palms as he drilled you. The switch in his demeanour was dizzying. His dick was hollowing you out, rending you wide—you could hardly focus on his words—

"Yes!" You managed. "Fuck—yes—"

He groaned, fucking faster—his gaze ravaged you, wandering over every inch of your reflection before stopping at your jiggling chest. His hand slipped down from your hair to grasp a breast—squeezing and kneading the soft flesh in his huge palm, his other hand snaking down around your thigh to swirl over your clit, and you choked—a noise wrenched from your lungs far louder than you'd have liked.

"Fuck—fuck—" his hips moved erratically. He was getting close. So were you. "Tight—squeeze me s'good—"

You whinged. He swirled his fingers faster. "Blaise—m'gonna—cum—"

It descended upon you—the promise of oblivion—as you found one breath, another breath, and then found yourself in the mirror, skin gleaming, expression wrought with pleasure, entire body shaking with the pistoning of your boyfriends hips.

His eyes were still on yours, reverence inside them, worship.

He grunted. "Yes—fuck, cum on my cock, baby—let me feel you—"

It was a command that shattered all thought, a primal cry of ecstasy that ripped through you, overtaking every nerve, every vein, every muscle in your body. Your limbs trembled, thighs shaking as the pleasure coursed through you, molten, burning under your skin. You were less than halfway cognizant of what was leaving your mouth—barely picking up on your boyfriends groans and moans in your ear as you squeezed and milked his cock through your climax, fucking you deep until he couldn't take it anymore and erupted as well—pouring his cum into you, rolling his hips until he was empty.

Swallowing hard, you collapsed onto the floor, your chest heaving as he pulled out, leaving you breathless and trembling. His hands, still warm from the heat of your skin, gently held your arm as he sank down beside you. Without a word, he tugged you against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing a calming rhythm against your back. His fingers threaded softly through your hair, untangling the remnants of tension as the two of you lay there, catching your breath.

After a few moments, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, the touch so tender it made you melt all over again. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, a soft smile curving your lips, all the stress that had plagued you earlier dissipating into nothing.

"Maybe I should have bad days more often." You smiled through an exhale.

"If this is what it takes to fix them," he murmured with a smirk, his voice deep and gravelly from exertion, "then I'm more than willing to be your remedy, anytime."

You hummed, a huff of a laugh slipping out as you traced lazy shapes on his chest—inhaling his scent with each breath. You loved this man. Loved that he never failed to make you feel so goddamn beautiful, so special, so needed.

"Seriously though," you whispered after a while, your cheek pressed to his chest, "thank you. For this. For knowing exactly what I needed."

His fingers stilled in your hair, a quiet hum of understanding in his throat.

"I always know what you need, baby," he said, his voice soft, filled with something more than just desire, something warmer. "And I'll always be here to give it to you."

[ennabear]

enananan wants blurb ideas plu can deliver for bae💚 SHUTTING SEV UP WITH KISSES PLEASE!! maybe like she's getting grumpy :sevikaeyebrow: but r is like nope!! SMOOCH i love u twinsy go get em <3

HEHE HAII TWINSY!!! SMOOCH FOR U hehehe thanks for this idea i need to blurb about my wife because i miss her… grumpy sev is my baeee hehehe she’s just a little baby bear cub 🤎🤎🤎

sevika often comes home at late hours in the night or even early in the morning, so she’s never really in a great mood. although your version of ‘scary lady’ is just her grumbling about stubbing her toes on your furniture or demanding a back massage. but still, your babe is sleep deprived, hungry, and most of all, she misses you.

you have a habit of making sure she has everything she’ll need when she gets home, like a meal, a neat and tidy bed, a drink if she needs one, a warm bath if it’s been one of those weeks. she’s always immensely grateful for it, even though to anyone else she might seem to be unhappy. but you can tell that she appreciates and loves you, especially when she cuddles you to sleep or when she wakes you up with her tongue stuffed in your cunt.

tonight, she comes home angry and growling as always. jinx has gotten herself in trouble as always, and no matter how much she tries to keep the kid in line, she always blows it up. literally. and sevika is left not only cleaning up her messes, but silco’s too. it annoys her, and it’s exhausting, and all she wants to do when she comes home is just get all of her frustration out.

so when she walks in through the front door, she sighs, takes a seat, and starts sipping at the glass of whiskey you’ve poured for her. you can tell by the crease between her brows and the way her lips are pouted that there’s something on her mind, and you know that she’s just itching to get it off of her chest.

“how was your day?” you prompt.

she sighs deeply, closing her eyes and exhaling through her nose. “i hate my job sometimes.”

“really? i thought you liked helping your people.”

“not when jinx kills them all.”

and her tangent has started. she tells you all about how silco had her running around the city all day, in and out of buildings, up and down between topside and bottom, tracking shipments, meeting people, cleaning the bar, babysitting jinx, finding information, etc.

what she hasn’t noticed is that you’ve been sneaking closer to her while she talks. she’s too busy in her own world, ranting about jinx and silco and the chembarons and the enforcers, and suddenly you’re wrapping your arms around her and pressing your lips against hers.

you smile against her, you know that she likes to vent sometimes, but you also know that it’s good for her to just move on and enjoy your presence. she sighs against you, pulling away with another pout. some of her brown lipstick has smudged against your lips, so she reaches forward to smear it off.

“sorry, am i boring you?” she says with a sleepy grin.

“yeah, a little.” you tease. “why don’t we go to bed, babe. i know you’re tired.”

sevika also likes to overshare when she’s drunk. it doesn’t take much, just a few drinks and a steady conversation to start her rambling.

sometimes it’s dangerous, she’ll start talking to some random goon about silco’s plans and incoming shimmer shipments, and you have to swoop in and start making out with her before she reveals to much and loses her job.

other times it’s cute. she’ll get a little tipsy, the bar will be somewhat empty, the lights shining perfectly on your skin, and she’ll just dump out a million reasons as to why she’s in love with you. she gets so adorable and soft, her cheeks get firm with a smile reaching from one ear to the other, her eyes squinting closed a little, and it’s hard not to lean forward and shut up her words with your kisses.

it’s not like she minds, though. she never minds. her favorite thing in the world is the feeling of your lips on hers, and that sweet feeling of love that it brings to her. whether she’s had the worst day ever or not, she knows that you’ll find a way to comfort her with your sweet kisses, and she instantly forgets all about what caused her to start talking in the first place.