#these things mean that i spend pretty much every second in my house.

[usermoreid]

.

[nanaslutt]

choso with tongue piercing? >_<

hngh i need his tongue inside me :(

😝

Bestfriend!Choso X Reader :3

contains: fem reader, teasing, dirty talk, exhibitionism (they're in a car), sexual tension, oral (r!receiving), Choso’s first time giving head, slight jealousy, whipped!Choso & reader, first time receiving, reader has a bad track record w/ guys, mentions of bj, so soft & sweet

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Holy fuck." You swallowed hard at the view in front of you. "My brother convinced me to get it done when he got some of his piercings, said it could be a bonding experience," Choso explained, putting his tongue decorated with the little silver ball back into his mouth. "Did it hurt?" You asked, your mind still reeling that he had hidden a tongue piercing from you for all these years.

"It wasn't horrible, I'm pretty good with pain. I don't really see the point in having it pierced though." He started to explain, "No one ever sees it, even I forget it's there sometimes." Choso finished. You just smiled and nodded, pretending to listen as he kept talking about his experience getting pierced.

You had already thought of 400 scenarios in which you would let choso put his tongue (and piercing) to work on your body, so the pain he went to to get the pretty jewelry wouldnt be in vain. One particular scenario stood out in your head of him tongue fucking you, feeling the metal against your clit and- "You okay?" Choso's voice rang in your ears.

"Huh?" You said, pulling yourself from your daydream. "I asked if you would ever get your tongue pierced and you just froze up." He explained, scrunching his eyebrows together. "Oh! Oh right! I uh, I'm pretty squeamish around needles so thinking about it makes me a little... nervous" You lied through your teeth, thanking the universe that he seemed to believe it.

For the rest of the day the two of you spent together, the only thing you could focus on was his piercing. Unbeknownst to you, he had caught you several times. Choso had purposely run his tongue over his lips to wet them, every so often, just to see your breath hitch when you got a glimpse of the silver.

As he was driving the two of you back to his house for a nightcap, some relaxing song playing in the background, you spoke up through the silence, "Thanks for today Choso! I know the night isn't over yet but the museum you took us to was so much fun, we have to go to the cafe inside next time!" you exclaimed. He turned his head away from the road to look at you, before returning his gaze on the dark street.

"I'm surprised you remembered there was a cafe." He said, a hint of teasing, and snarkiness hiding in his voice. "Huh?" You voiced, tilting your head at him in confusion. "You seemed out of it today." He elaborated, "Is there something going on?" He asked, keeping his voice and face fairly monotone. His question caught you off guard, had you really been acting that weird all day? So much so that he picked up on it? Oh god.

"No! No, I'm just a little tired today, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be weird." You forced out a laugh, once again coming up with a quick and hopefully believable lie. Unluckily for you, Choso saw right through it. "Are you sure? Because you were acting fine until I showed you my piercing." He said, hitting the nail right on the head.

You froze, not expecting him to be able to pinpoint the exact moment in the day you started behaving strangely, why was he so damn observant? "Oh.. really?" You said, no bullshit lies or excuses coming to your tongue, so you tried to laugh it off instead, saying something about a coincidence. "Did me sharing that make you uncomfortable?" He said, making you immediately reassure him that was absolutely not the case.

He turned the car onto your street, driving slowly down the dark path and towards your house. The two of you have been friends for the longest time, spending practically every second together any chance you got, so of course he knew the way to your house like the back of his hand.

"Oh my god no! No choso, really it's.. it's nothing.." You panicked slightly, not wanting him to feel bad for you being a perv and not being able to control yourself over a piercing. You sighed heavily, scrunching your face up as you seriously contemplated telling him what was really going on with you today.

No matter what you did you couldn't stop imagining your oblivious best friend's tongue between your legs, flicking your clit with his tongue and teasing the bud with the cold metal. You wanted to feel guilty you really did, but the vision was too delicious to feel any remorse.

"Does it turn you on?" He asked, pulling into your driveway and putting the car into part before he unbuckled himself and turned his body to face you. The expression on his face was unreadable, which made you nervous. Your face was heating up, and your mouth dropped open and closed like a fish out of water, trying to think of a response as your brain processed his unexpected words. You really didn't want your long-term secret crush on your best friend to be exposed like this.

"The piercing, does it turn you on?" He asked again, rephrasing his question. Oh god.. he was going to call you a perv and kick you out of the car, leaving you cold and alone in your own driveway if you said yes right? He would definitely think you were weird, who thinks about their best friend in that way?

You opted to shut your mouth, as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded as softly as you could, unsure of your own actions. He looked past you, scanning the outside around the two of you to make sure there were no witnesses before he spoke his next words. "Wanna find out why I actually got this piercing?" He asked, making your face turn a dark shade of crimson as you whispered out a needy, "Please.."

--

"Fuck- Ohmygod right there Choso- Fuck!" Your hands dug into his soft strands of hair as he ate you out like a man starved. He had you on your back in the backseat of the car, legs splayed out for him as he laid between them, feasting on your cunt. He flattened his tongue out against your clit, making sure the ball of the piercing was kissing the little bud before he shook his head back and forth, stimulating your clit against it.

It had happened so fast, he had leaned forward and pressed your lips together, asking if this was okay before he unbuckled your seatbelt while you were distracted, and somehow the two of you had ended up in the backseat. You weren't sure why he didn't just drag you inside but you couldn't lie that the thrill of doing something like this in the car was exciting.

Choso scissored his fingers in and out of you, abusing your g-spot with the pads of his digits as they curled up against it. His tongue was working you over so well, he drew his name over and over on your clit, occasionally sucking it into his warm mouth and humming around it, sending delicious vibrations through your cunt.

Choso had never told you about any of his sexual conquests, so you werent really sure what to expect in terms of how well he would do when he said he was going to eat you out. Now you were begining to think he had a side job as a porn star or something because his technique was unreal.

"H-how are you so fucking g-good mph!" You cut yourself off with a whine when he suckled your clit particularly hard, making your body jolt against him. Truthfully, Choso had never eaten anyone out before, but he most definitely had watched porn and practiced on his hand for the day he got the courage to ask you out.

He wasn't expecting the opportunity to fall into his lap this easily, so when he saw your eyes light up at his piercing, he internally thanked the gods that you caught a glimpse of it in the sun, which led to him revealing the jewelry to you.

Choso always paid the utmost attention to you, without you even knowing it. He knew what you liked and disliked, he even so much as knew every detail about your tone and facial expressions to make sure you were constantly pleased and comfortable, he always wanted the best for you after all.

He watched how people would break your heart and toss you aside like you were nothing, it alwasy made him furious. They were absolute idiots to give you up, he hated seeing you sad over some unemployed nobody who never really cared about you from the start. Althogh he hated them, he couldnt help but feel a little grateful for them. If it werent for them taking you for granted, you might be in a relationship still, and the two of you wouldnt be in his backseat right now.

Choso moaned against your core when your hands tightened in his hair, rolling his eyes at the feeling of your nails digging into his scalp. "Does it feel good?" He said back, knowing damn well your answer. "Yes, yes Choso, fuck!" You moaned, dropping your chin to watch him work between your thighs.

He was already looking at you when your eyes locked with his. His eyebrows scrunched together upon feeling your gaze, keeping his dark eyes on yours as he ate you out with more vigor, drinking in your body’s every reaction to his tongue. The vibrations from his deep groans were going to push you over the edge. "Choso- Choso I'm close," You whined, fighting your eyes from rolling back in your head so you could keep your eyes on his and watch him do his thing.

He was so unbelievably handsome like this, the streetlights casting beautiful shadows on his face, and his expression was so needy it made your heart skip a beat. The way his eyebrows mimicked your expressions whenever he did something that felt particularly good, was so hot, he was so attentive.

The man between your legs was feeling drunk. This was something he only dreamed of and it was actually happening. He felt like his cock was going to burst from just tasting you alone, but he would gladly make home between your thighs forever. "Please," He begged from between your legs, scrunching his eyebrows together as he ate you out with more vigor.

He released his fingers from your tight hole and opted to replace them with his tongue, pressing his face as tightly against you as he could to make sure his tongue was fucking inside you as deep as possible, making sure to lick his tongue upwards against your walls so you could feel his piercing inside you. His fingers came to rub little circles on your clit with expert precision, making your legs start to shake.

You dug your nails against his scalp as you humped your hips against his face, hearing his muffled moans encourage you from between your thighs. "Ohmygod Choso! I-I'm cumming-" You wined before you felt the knot start to unravel. Choso swore he almost came in his pants at how sensually you cried out his name, mentally recording it for later.

He kept up his ministrations on your pussy, drinking up everything you gave him as you came hard on his face, squishing his soft cheeks between your thighs. He was mesmerized as he watched your body shake and curl in on itself, he stared at your mouth as it dropped open and spilled out profanities and whines of his name, broken on your tongue. When your back relaxed against the seat of the car once more he slowed his fingers on your clit, careful to not overstimulate you.

"Holy f-fuck Choso." You whispered, leaving your hands in his hair and running them through your own, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You took a quick look around in the post haze of your orgasm and noticed how foggy the windows were, so much for trying not to be obvious; anyone with half a brain would know what was going on if they walked past your car.

After he made sure he licked you clean, he pulled his face back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, raising his body to sit comfortably on the seat as his other large hand came to caress your thigh soothingly. "Was that okay?" He asked, looking at you like a puppy.

"Okay?" You repeated, astonished he was asking as if he didn't just witness how hard you came, "I'm pretty sure that was the best orgasm I've ever had in my life." You laughed, making him smile at your words as your hand came down on top of his while he was petting your thigh. "Thank felt so good Choso, thank you." You said blushing as you closed your legs, noticing how exposed you were in comparison to him.

Of course, he picked up on this, he reached over to pick up your previously discarded panties from the floor of the car, wiping them off before he handed them, alone with your pants, to you. You said your thanks to him and he nodded shyly, a stark difference to how he was acting moments ago. It wasn't till you were almost finished getting dressed again when you noticed his massive boner. How did you not see it before? You felt so bad for letting him sit like that for god knows how long.

"Choso, you're hard." You said, stating the obvious. The man blushed and pulled his t-shirt over his hard-on to cover it. "Let me take care of it for you." You offered, leaning your body over his and placing your hands on his toned thighs, "I-Its okay-" His warm hands came down to grab your forearms, stopping you. "What? Really? It doesn't look okay," You giggled, looking up between your lashes at him.

Of course, he wanted you to get him off, that sounded perfect, but he needed to properly take care of you first. Your legs were still trembling and you were still out of breath, on top of that he could tell you were tired; that orgasm had taken a lot out of you, so he could wait. "Don't worry about me, I'll go down." He assured, rubbing his hands on your wrists soothingly and making you hum. "I still need to clean you up and make sure you're okay." He finished, making you blush. No man has ever said that to you before, and no man has ever eaten you out before tonight either but you wouldn't tell Choso that right now.

Truthfully, you were feeling tired, and the prospect of Choso cleaning you up didnt sound half bad right now, "Are you sure? It really wont take long." You offered one last time. He smiled and pushed your arms off of his thighs so he could leave the car, "Im sure, some other time." He said boldly, making you nod silently as he opened the car door and stepped out.

You started to do the same but his voice stopped you in your tracks, "Don't move." He ordered, so you didn't. It didn't take long after he shut his own door that he was opening yours, Choso now standing in front of you as he leaned inside the car and scooped you into his arms, making you giggle as he slammed the door behind him. "Choso! I can walk." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he held you in a princess carry.

"Don't wanna take any chances, your legs are still trembling pretty hard." He said, making you blush and want to hide away at his exposing words. "I think you're the sweetest man I'll ever know." You said to him, smiling at his blushing face as he quickly avoided his eyes with yours. He moved his hand to effortlessly type in your door code as he brought the both of you inside, away from the chilly air.

I better be, he wanted to say, but opted to only acknowledge your words with a hum as the front door clicked shut behind the both of you.

[erodasfishtacos]

You Belong With Me | pilot!h |

Prompt: YN and Harry are enemies until they’re not. YN doesn’t need another relationship but neither does Harry. It doesn’t go smoothly.

Word Count: 19k+

Warnings: discussion of miscarriage

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—-—

It isn’t love.

At least not a first.

YN cannot tell you the moment she fell in love with him.

However, she can tell you the moment that she knew.

-

YN had never had a casual hookup, she’d always been in committed relationships, and had pretty vanilla sex that almost always took place in a bedroom without much excitement.

For a long while, she never thought anything of it and deduced that maybe she just was not one of the people who had a wild adventurous sex life or was bold - it was just fine with her boyfriend in the past, it was never anything to write home about.

She definetly never thought that she would find out that she did in fact have a wild side at work of all places.

YN reveled in not rocking the boat, she’d never do anything unprofessional at work, and she was always one of the best employees - some whispered that she was a kissass or a try hard, YN just wanted to do a good job and hope that most people liked her.

YN had just gotten out of her longest relationship so far - she’d been with Noah since her first year of college and had broken it off after nearly six years of being together just about five months into her new job.

It wasn’t working out any longer, if they were honest, they hadn’t been working out for quite sometime.

YN doesn’t know exactly when she had fallen out of love with Noah but she had.

It was a rocky breakup.

They wanted different things.

YN wants a ring.

Noah didn’t want to get married.

Even though it wasn’t the worst breakup ever, YN really was struggling with all the stress it had put on her because her whole life had changed now that she was a flight attendant.

She had to let Noah keep their two dogs which really felt like she gave away custody because he could be home every night to take care of them while YN was never home for more than a few nights at a time.

Noah had owned the house they lived in which meant YN moved into an apartment that wasn’t that bad but it really wasn’t anything special, it didn’t really matter because she wasn’t home often enough and packed boxes lay untouched for a long time.

YN decided that being single was best right now, it would be near impossible to find a relationship that would work with her hectic hours and she wasn’t going on a dating app to have mediocre sex.

It only takes one person to flip her whole life around.

And that is a fucking understatement.

-

It officially marked her seventh month at the company and her second of being single - both were going somewhat well in her eyes.

Her parents wanted her to find someone, wasting no time in pestering her because they wanted her to have a wedding, to give them grandchildren.

Honestly, YN’s has not been looking.

At first, the breakup with Noah went fine, pleasant even but just a few weeks ago, it had turned completely sour after Noah had told her she wasn’t able to visit their two dogs anymore.

When YN was home, she’d swing by at least once a week to spend some time with her two fur babies whether in his backyard or taking them to the local park for a hike.

However, he’s found a new girlfriend and has stated that it’s no longer a good idea for her to come see the dogs but also said she’s not allowed to take them either which means she has completely lost them.

Noah: It’s nothing personal. I just don’t want my new girlfriend getting the wrong idea, you know? Sorta a buzzkill to have my ex and me sharing dogs like they’re kids or something. I hope you understand, maybe I can send pics

“YN, hello?” Her friend Elaina waves her hand in front of her cellphone screen to break her gaze from Noah’s text message.

“Sorry,” YN mumbles as she locks her phone and puts it on airplane mode.

They were waiting in the employee area for their flight to be ready, a little lounge that was a bit too humid and the coffee was always out.

“I was saying that today is Pilot Styles’ first day with Paradise Airlines after moving from Coastal,” Elaina explains to YN and the few other women that were huddled on the worn couches.

YN’s brow furrows at that, “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

She had heard rumors that a new pilot would be joining their team, be their captain as Paradise Airlines were unlike other companies - they tended to keep crews together on the same flights to build a good coworking relationship.

All the girls look at her like she had a second head, Justine speaking up first, “How do you not know who he is?”

YN doesn’t quite know how to answer that, shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t remember anyone ever saying anything about that captain to me. Why is it a big deal that he is changing to our airline?”

Perry jumps in, excited that she gets to spill some gossip, “Well, we’re surprised you don’t know him because of the amount of shit that the stewardess’ bitch about him. It’s a big deal that he’s coming to our airline because every attendant I know hates him.”

YN wasn’t expecting that for the reason that he was so well known.

“I mean most pilots are a bit grouchy,” YN responds as she sips her coffee that has enough espresso to get her through the next ten hours, “They all seem a little miserable if I’m honest.”

Elaina laughs at that, leaning forward, “He’s not just a bit grouchy. He’s a straight up asshole. He’s probably the most unfriendly, unwelcoming person that I’ve ever met and I’ve heard from others that it’s the same. He treats everybody like they’re less than and is demanding, like everybody needs to bow down for him.”

“You’ve worked with him before?” YN asks Elaina, it sounds like she was speaking from personal experience and there was still annoyance in her tone as she recounts how she knows the captain.

“Unfortunately, I worked at Coastal Airlines for a few years before I moved here. Styles is probably around forty years old so he’s been here quite a while now. I didn’t have many experiences with him but I swear he made at least one attendant cry each flight.”

“Did he make you cry?” YN responds because that seemed to be what Elaina was insinuating as her friend picked at the foam of her cheap coffee cup.

“Once,” Elaina nods with a pursed smile, “I accidentally turned off the seatbelt sign right before major turbulence which was totally on me but Harry lost his shit on me, he wrote me a formal warning, told me that if i can’t do something as simple as button control that I should be working somewhere ‘more my speed’, and when I started crying - he fucking laughed at me for and told me I was being childish.”

“Maybe he was just having a bad day?” YN tries to justify because why would someone be so cruel for no reason, it didn’t make sense unless he was perpetually miserable.

Justine finally jumps into the conversation, “He has a bad day everyday. He usually sits down at the hotel bars for an hour or so after check-in. I’ve watched stewardess’ try to hit on him, get him to take them back to his room because even though he’s a dickhead, he’s fucking hot. A lot of the time, he just turns them down but sometimes he’ll toy with them. He’ll flirt, buy them a drink, and then laugh at them because they thought they had a chance with him.”

It’s official, YN already hates this Captain Styles, he sounds like a chauvinist pig and she hopes that she can just manage to keep a safe distance from him.

YN misses the social cues of the situation, she misses the way the other girls tense up, she misses the warning glances that they’re trying to silently give her, she misses the way their eyes widen at the doorway.

YN’s back was turned toward the door so she couldn’t see who walked in, didn’t even hear anyone, and shakes her head with a soft chuckle, “I don’t care how good looking Captain Styles is, he can fuck off if he thinks he can be an asshole to me. I’m not in the mood.”

And she was expecting some type of response from her fellow coworkers but instead they are absolute dead silence, sitting stock still, and looking down at their laps.

“Is that right?” A deep voice asks from behind her, it nearly sent chills down her spine at the tone, cool and collected but the sharp, authoritative edge was not going unnoticed by her.

YN squeezes her eyes shut for a long moment, already having a sinking feeling that it was none other than the captain, her new boss, behind her and had just heard her brave declaration.

She stands up, straightening out the pleats of her freshly ironed dress, and turns towards him.

YN feels her breathing stutter when she finally comes face to face with the man who no one has had anything good to say about and she feels a weird flip in her stomach.

They said he was hot.

But that really didn’t do any justice to the man standing in front of her.

He was hot, sure but he was devastatingly, intimidatingly handsome.

She’d never been so intimidated by someone based on their appearance alone, he was so beautiful that it was startling as he stared her down with a bored expression.

He was tall, lean but not in a scrawny way, it was obvious that he had lithe muscle on his body that was hidden away under his uniform, and said uniform fit him like an absolute glove.

Captain Styles had cropped brown curls with individual gray hairs scattered within, mostly near his temples which was the one of the only signs of his age, his eyes were a piercing green surrounding by dark lashes, and his lips were puffy, pouty, and currently in a frown.

YN realizes that he’s expecting a response and in that moment, despite his good looks, she decides that she’s not going to let herself be treated like shit because she has had enough of that from other men in her life lately.

She knows it’s only appropriate to apologize but she’s not going to grovel for his forgiveness, he could hate her because she already disliked him, and so she swallows her pride for the moment.

“I apologize, Captain Styles,” YN says clearly, not letting once ounce of anxiety slip into her tone, “That was inappropriate and uncalled for. It won’t happen again. I look forward to working with you.”

He narrows his eyes at her, studying her face and not letting the scowl leave his, its like he’s trying to look at her soul with how intent his stare is, and then he’s replying, “Unfortunately, I cannot say the same. It doesn’t seem like such a pleasure to work with you. However, I am hopeful you’re not as unpersonable with customers as you are with your superiors.”

YN’s has to stop herself from letting her mouth drop open at the harshness of his words, a ball of red hot fury beginning to build in her as she drops the faux smile from her face.

“I don’t think you have much room to talk about being unpersonable, Captain Styles,” YN tells him, making sure the words sound soft and just casual conversation even though it’s anything but - she can feel the eyes of her coworkers bulging at the confrontation.

Harry smiles brightly, his bright white teeth flashing almost dangerously at her words, “Even though it’s adorable, the attitude won’t last long. Not if you want to keep your job.”

YN doesn’t let that worry her, she could always find a job with another airline, there’s always a need and for some reason, she decides that she wants to pick a fight with this man when she’s never done something like this before.

“I’m good at my job and I’m friendly,” YN shrugs like she’s unbothered, she catches Harry’s fist clench tightly at his side in annoyance but it’s the only sign of it in his body, “I think you may be able to take some lessons from me because the latter seems pretty difficult for you, Captain.”

Harry’s eyes are dark, laser focused on her and no one else in the room, and her words don’t change his facial expression, he simply states to the room at large, “Change of plans for the flight to Heathrow,” He takes a minute to look at her name badge, “I would like Perry and YN to switch positions on today’s flight. The plane is boarding in fifteen minutes, please be prepared to board and prepare for takeoff.”

With that, he’s turning on his heel and striding right back out the door.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Elaina hisses as she smacks YN’s arm, “What the hell were you thinking?”

YN doesn’t really know what got into her, that man just brought something out in her that made her want to fight, to be a little be feisty, and get under his skin when no one else could.

“I wasn’t really,” YN admits with a nervous laugh, flopping back down on the sofa, “He’s just so arrogant, cocky. Men like that get on my nerves and I’m not going to let him treat me however he wants.”

“I have to say I’m relieved I’m no longer on cockpit duty but I’m sorry for you, it’s going to be a long flight,” Perry sighs as she sits up to throw her empty drink away.

Fuck.

“Of course,” YN shakes her head in annoyance, “Of course, he’s going to make me wait on him hand and foot now.”

“Depends, sometimes he really keeps to himself. Especially on the long flights but when he’s on a rampage, he’ll make the whole flight awful. Thanks for that,” Justine snorts but doesn’t actually seem that mad, like she knows YN is going to get the brunt of it.

“Lucky me,” YN responds sarcastically, it was about time they headed out to board.

Paradise had the nicest planes in the game, newest and most expensive, an average seat on board cost no less than a thousand dollars, and everyone had pods instead of normal seating.

It was for long flights, international which YN didn’t mind - she liked getting out of the country, sometimes she got to experience the cities for a day or so, not always.

The cockpit attendant was exactly what it sounded like, they were responsible for communicating with the pilots and then passing that message onto either the passengers or other employees.

They would ask the stewardess to check on things, give them drinks or prepare their food, and give them any updates that may be necessary for them to know.

Most flight attendants want the cockpit because it tended to be the easiest spot, didn’t have to deal with the unruly passengers much, didn’t have to be at their beck and call, and most pilots were pretty low maintances and kept communication to a minimum.

However, everyone seemed to want to face the customers for a ten hour flight than even have to talk to their pilot which wasn’t what YN had considered - it just shows how awful he is and she just subjected herself to it.

-

Takeoff is smooth, after a few minutes, Captain Styles’ voice filters through the intercoms where he discusses the flight, the weather, the time, and cursing altitude before wishing them a good trip.

He doesn’t bother YN until three hours in, pressing the button that signals to her that she is needed in the pit which she punches in the code and sticks her head in where Harry and his co-pilot are.

“Yes, Captain Styles?” YN uses her most professional tone because she truly wasn’t trying to get fired.

“Club soda with lemon,” Is all he responds without looking back, no please or courtesy - it was demand because he could.

“Yes sir,” YN has to make sure it doesn’t come out as sharply as she wants it, he’s already creating an itch under her skin, and its making her want to tell him off again.

She takes her time preparing the drink, no rush to be back which she’s hoping annoys him, and when she steps back into the cockpit, attempting to hand him the beverage - he doesn’t reach for it.

“I’ve changed my mind. I’d actually prefer a raspberry la croiax,” He again doesn’t make any effort to look at her and she swears she can see the slightest smirk at the corner of his lips.

“I’ll take the club soda,” The other man shrugs, taking it off of her hands so that it doesn’t go to waste, oblivious to the obvious tension in the small space.

YN knows that he’s doing it just to fuck with her, its unprofessional and immature but that shouldn’t surprise her with how much people have been warning her about him, right?

She again drags her feet and inhales deeply before reentering, hands out with the drink, and this time Harry reaches for it - she tries not to startle when their fingers brush momentarily, one of his rings bumping her.

“Miss. YN, I know I switched you position last moment,” Harry hums like he’s thoughtful, it actually makes her more irritated than when he’s blunt and cold, it like he’s playing a game right now, “But I think cockpit attendant is most likely the easiest job on this plane. If you cannot even get beverages in a timely manner than maybe you need some additional training or an even easier job.”

YN is absolutely staring daggers into the back of his head, she knows that this is usually when the other women cry or back away with their tail between their legs but YN wasn’t going to do either of those things.

She was going to kill him with kindness.

“Abolstuely, Captain Styles. I apologize for any inconvenience, I know you have such a hard job and I’m making it difficult. I’ll try better in then future, thank you for your feedback,” The fake enthusiasm is dripping into her voice and it’s obvious how much acting is put in to her demeanor.

She preens a bit when she realizes that it catches him at least a little of guard, his smirk faltering for a moment before his eyes narrow again and his nostrils are flaring, “Get out my pit.”

And YN has to contain her giggle, overjoyed that she’d managed to irk him, and it seems to do the trick as he doesn’t request anymore beverages for the rest of the flight and doesn’t interact with her nearly at all.

-

YN can at least give it to Captain Styles that it was a smooth flight, as they were landing and finally able to exit the aircraft - all the girls looked at her with wide eyes, most likely expecting it to look like she had cried recently but she hadn’t.

It was a tradition to dine together when they landed in a new country since Paradise made them a team and always paired them together, they were also at the same hotel which worked out for them to hang out.

Elaina, YN, Perry, and Justine were all sat in the hotel restaurant gossiping about different attendants and recounting atrocious customers when out of the corner of her eye, she sees Harry walk into.

He had changed from his uniform into a pair of loose black slacks and fitted black t-shirt as he headed straight toward the bar, he didn’t glance around to see his surroundings and slid onto a stool.

“He has no right to be that attractive when he’s that much of an asshole,” Justine grumbles, crossing her arms dramatically, “Almost every pilot sleeps around. Why is he the only one who doesn’t?”

“You don’t think he’s ever slept with one?” YN asks curiously because she doesn’t put it above Harry to do one night stands and then act like the girl didn’t even exist the next day.

“I think he was married at some point,” Perry shrugs, “And from what I know he didn’t cheat on his wife like most pilot’s do. I don’t know what happened but Brandy said she heard Harry tell one of his copilots that he was single a year back or something. So they must have gotten a divorce.”

That surprised YN, she knew that many people who worked for airlines and travel constantly tended to do quite a bit of sleeping around because they weren’t home often with their significant others.

There was a lot of cheating in this line of work.

So once again, it did throw YN through a loop that he wasn’t known as one of the serial cheaters like most pilots are - that’s not saying he didn’t cheat on his wife, he could have done it much more secretly but it’s hard to keep it that much under wraps.

“I’d divorce him too. I can’t imagine he treated his wife too well,” Justine adds in with a sip of her margarita and a chuckle, “Despite how handsome and charming he can be, he seems like a bit of a loner.”

YN was not going to feel bad for him.

The rest of the dinner goes well, Harry doesn’t turn to look at them once but he has to know they’re there - Perry and Justine got a bit rowdy towards the end of the night and their giggles were echoing through the room.

When they file out, YN glances at Harry which she doesn’t know why, and is startled to see that he’s staring at her through the mirror opposite the bar, only for a moment before he purposefully looks away.

-

“Fucking shit,” YN curses loudly in the empty bathroom, she’d only been back from dinner for not more than fifteen minutes and was about to hop in the shower when dropped her hairdryer right on the top of her foot as she unpacked her toiltery bag.

It was already showing signs of discoloration and there was a nice sized abrasion across the top - it was absolutely throbbing and the shower was forgotten.

She had showered before the flight and wasn’t too dirty which meant she was just going to wait until the morning.

Instead she slips into her pajamas which consisted of a plain black tank top and a pair of cotton shorts that had sushi rolls all over them - a gift from Elaina after a girls night of bad sushi which resulted in food poisoning in Japan.

YN had a bad habit of walking around barefoot, it didn’t matter whether it was her house, the woods, the hotel hallways - she’d grown up in the country and it was just a habit to not wear shoes when she didn’t have too.

She grabs the ice bucket from the countertop to go fill it with ice, she could wrap some up in a towel and ice her foot - hopefully to prevent it from swelling too much.

They had a flight back to the states tomorrow and it was another ten hour trip, they were required to wear a specific kitten-heel shoe and she knew a swollen foot would feel awful in it.

It was nearly eleven at night, she didn’t think there would be many people patrolling the hallway, and wandered out of her room down the corridor - following the signs that guided her to the ic machine.

She passes the elevators and continues down the row of room when she hears it beep and the heavy doors open, she doesn’t bother looking back because she’s sure it’s just someone going to their room.

Of course that’s not the fucking case though.

“It’s pretty disgusting to be walking around barefoot in a hotel,” A voice from behind her states with clear disdain in his low tone, “Then you get into a clean bed with filthy feet?”

YN internally groans because of course it’s him.

“Mind your own business, Captain Styles. We’re off the clock,” YN retorts back with more bite than she’s had all day as she continues to walk albeit at a slower than usual pace.

“Why are you limping? You weren’t limping earlier at the resturaunt,” Harry asks pointedly, his voice hasn’t softened and it’s like he is literally demanding the answers out of her, not asking.

Huh.

He was paying attention to her earlier.

Interesting.

“I dropped my hairdryer on my foot. I’m going to get ice for it,” YN can’t help the low but audible gasp that leaves her mouth when she steps down and a sharp pain shoots up through her already tender foot but then she feels the ice bucket being ripped out of her hand, “Hey! What the hell-“

“Quiet the fuck down, will you?” Harry hissed as he steps in front of her, cutting off her path, there was still quite a long way to go until the ice dispenser and she’d like to get this over with so she can rest her foot, “Go back to your room. I’ll bring the ice to you. What room number are you?”

He doesn’t sound like he’s doing it because he feels bad for her, his tone is making it seem like she’s being annoying and an inconvenience and if he gets her the ice then she won’t be such a bother to him - his facial expression isn’t saying anything different than that either.

“I can get my own ice,” YN tries to reach for the handle but he jerks it away childishly.

“I didn’t ask you whether you could or not. With how long it took you to bring me a fucking drink by the time you hobble back to your hotel room, the sun will be rising. Don’t make me ask again, what room number are you?” Harry grits out because he’s definitely annoyed but YN doesn’t know whether he has another state of being besides that.

“Three twenty seven,” YN mumbles defeatedly, she wasn’t going to stand in the hallway and argue any longer about a stupid bucket of ice, it pains her but she manages to say, “Thank you.”

Harry stares at her for a moment longer, frown etched onto his face, and he looks like he’s about to say something nice but then his eyebrows furrow once again and says, “Be more careful. I don’t want to have to deal with a new stewardess because you can’t walk and put some fucking shoes on.”

Then he’s sauntering off without waiting for her response and she can’t help but just look at his broad back for a moment in disbelief at what an asshole he is but there is at least some type of kindness underneath….maybe she’s imagining things because she’s tired and in pain.

There’s a knock on her door a few minutes later, she thought he’d be back with the ice sooner and she started to believe that he was purposely taking long because of what she did with his drinks on the flight earlier.

So when she swings open the door, she already has a major attitude as she snatches the bucket of ice out of his hand and scowls at him, “I know I took a long time with your drinks earlier but I’m actually in pain, its really rude of you to -“

Harry extends his hand, showing that he has a bottle of aspirin in it, “I went down to the little shop in the lobby and got this for you, didn’t know if you traveled with it but should help the swelling and pain for tomorrow’s flight.”

And YN actually feels bad because that was nice of him to do and so she sheepishly takes it, “I’m sorry I know we got off on the wrong foot. I just thoug-“

“I’m not going to be your fucking friend, save the apology or whatever you’re about to say. I do not care,” Harry shakes his head as his hands go back to his sides, “I’m looking out for my crew, nothing more.”

YN thinks she’s starting to see past his tough guy exterior even if she’s only known him for a few hours at this point.

“You bring every stewardess aspirin?” YN shoots back with a raised eyebrow.

Harry grits his teeth, jaw clenching, “I haven’t met one as clumsy or unbearable as you before.”

“It’s an honor to be the most unbearable one you’ve met in all your years of being a pilot,” YN flutters her eyelashes at him but there’s so much tension between them that she can almost taste it, she’d never felt this with someone before, “I look forward to living up to my title.”

It surprises her when Harry steps forward, their chests nearly touching, and he is looking down at her, “I’m not someone you want to fuck with, do you understand me? Listen to your little friends when they tell you about me, it’s all true.”

“I’m not scared of you,” YN shakes her head defiantly, crossing arms and bumping his chest just barely in the process but he doesn’t move back yet.

“I never said anything about being scared of me,” Harry responds almost conversationally, if he leaned forward just a bit more their lips would be connecting and….

And what the fuck.

No, YN, No.

“I don’t understand why you’re such a miserable asshole,” YN responds tightly, trying to reign in her thoughts, “But you’re going to have a hell of a time trying to make me fucking bow to you.”

Harry doesn’t like that, not one bit because he nearly snarls, and bites out, “You’re not going to last long on my crew. I’ll make fucking sure of that. I won't fire you but by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging to quit.”

YN finally snaps at that, this arguement clearly going no where, and she would have thrown the aspirin back at him but she actually did need it so as she reaches for the door handle to close it, she makes sure to let him know, “Fuck you.”

Harry's face transforms into a sickeningly sweet smile, dimples popping in his cheeks as he steps out of the room and into the hallway, “It’s been a lovely first day working with you, Miss YN. If you want to be intimidating, you might want to try it when you’re not wearing pajama shorts with sushi rolls on them.”

And with that, he’s disappearing down the hall.

-

As expected, the next day YN’s foot was swollen which made getting her feet into the kitten heels exceptionally hard this morning, her foot was already pulsating in pain by the time they got to the airport.

When they’re in the staff room, checking any updates for the flight, there’s a collective sigh of relief when positions are posted before they all look over at YN, she doesn’t even have to look to know what they’re thinking.

“You really pissed him off,” Elaina states as she frowns at her friend, “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Styles put the same attendant on cockpit for two flights in a row.”

YN was relieved in all honesty because she was going to be able to sit more than the others and she’d rather not be on her feet for hours on end with her bruising in the just the very beginning of the healing phase.

“It’s because I’m not going to take his bullshit,” YN responds with another sip of her strong coffee, “I can see why he makes people cry, he’s a jerk but I'm not going to let him win with me. He gets on my last nerve so I’m going to make sure to get on his.”

“And if he fires you from his crew?” Perry asks and it’s clear that she’s trying to tell YN to cool it with the attitude because they really don’t want to see their friends lose her job.

YN almost spills about the conversation her and Harry had last night, how he doesn’t want anybody new on his flights which makes her somewhat confident that he won't get rid of her easily but she wasn't going to tell her friends about that interaction.

Instead she tries to come off as nonchalant as possible when she shrugs her shoulders, “So be it. I’m not going to kiss his ass for this job.”

Elaina and Justine are giving her the same disapproving looks like they don’t want to see the Rama unfold which will most likely end in YN getting the boot as it was much easier to replace a flight attendant than a pilot.

-

It must be tradition for Harry to come into the staff room before the flights to let them know that boarding is happening soon and if there’s anything that they need to be aware of.

When he walks in today, he notices how the others straighten up and sit more proper than they were before, giving the captain their full attention and YN can’t help but roll her eyes.

She knows it's outwardly rude but she doesn’t put her phone away when he begins to speak about the potential weather hazards and turbulence that may occur on the upcoming flight.

YN wants to smile because she can feel the daggers that Harry is boring into her as he speaks and she blatantly lets him know how uninterested she is in what he has to say.

After he is done speaking, he asks if there’s any questions or anything that the staff needs and they all respond pretty much in unison saying ‘ no Captain’ everyone except YN.

YN has never, not once been so insubordinate at work, she fucking thrived on being a model employee and for the life of her, she could not explain the brattiness that Harry brought out in her.

She was having fun making him angry and she’s never been that type of person, it was like she was also enjoying his attention even though it was negative but YN wouldn’t admit that.

It seems pretty easy to rile him up, get him on-edge, his bullshit tolerance was seemingly low which made it easy for YN to succeed.

“Miss YN, I’d like to see you privately. Now,” Harry orders with no budge, he hasn’t raised his voice but the words are distinct and pronounced.

“She’s just having a bad day,” Elaina, always the good friend, tries to justify because she’s definitely afraid that YN is about to get fired, “She doesn’t usu-“

“Did I ask you?” Harry snaps at the women, his eyes fiery now with confrontation, “Did I ask for your opinion? I think I can do my job just fine without your input, stewardess.”

He managed to make the job title seem less than or demeaning in the way it came out but Elaina’s eyes go wide in surprise and she instantly quiets back down.

“If you find it necessary to try to tell me how to manage my crew, you can start looking for another airline to work for,” Harry threatens but his gaze is already back on YN, her heart absolutely sinks when she hears Elaina start to sniffle to hold back tears.

That was the normal effect that he had on others, a few really harsh and threatening words would make them cry because they were scared of him and his wrath.

YN pats Elaina’s thigh, in a silent ‘thank you’ for trying to stick up for her but she pushes herself off the couch, quickly hiding the grimace when her foot reminds her it’s injured and grabs the handle of her heavy luggage.

“Fifteen minutes,” Harry tells the rest of them before he’s going back out the door but this time with YN in tow, again slower than usual as she’s trying to manage this bruised foot in heels.

Harry doesn’t take her far, just down the hall to an empty conference room and shuts the door - she wants to smile with how angry he seems to be but she also hates how handsome he was when he was like this.

His jaw was clenched but it showed off how defined and cut it was, his puffy lips were pouty and a bit swollen from biting them, and he made his shoulders as broad as possible like he was trying to puff up in defense.

“I think it’s a fucking record,” Harry almost growls as he crosses his arms, putting his hat on the table, “I don’t think I’ve ever despised a stewardess as quickly as you. How have you gotten anywhere in life with that spoiled attitude?”

“I could ask the same,” YN raises her eyebrow because he doesn’t have room to talk on attitude, “I’m not normally like this. You just bring out the absolute worst in me.”

“Good to know I have such an effect on you,” Harry smiles smugly, his teeth gleaming and those same dimples popping, “That I can get you so worked up.”

It definitely had a double meaning laced in those words.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” YN laughs like he’s told the funniest joke, “You’re not as great as you think you are. I’m not impressed.”

And bingo.

That must strike a nerve with him.

YN can already tell nobody ever tells him that.

His teasing smile drops into something stormier, “Cut the bullshit now. When I’m talking, you listen and pay attention, you’re not some silly little teenager who can’t take a moment away from her phone. I know what you’re doing. I’m not going to be disrespected so blatantly in front of my crew.”

YN’s insides sorta twist at that because when he lays it out like that, it was really fucking rude of her and just because they’re having issues doesn’t give her the right to be so outwardly disrespectful in front of the crew.

She actually means it when she says, “I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise like he’s surprised that she sincerely apologized but it relaxes him a bit after the apology, shoulders dropping just the slightest, and YN’s mind starts to drift on what his broad shoulders look like underneath the perfectly pressed uniform…

No.

Absolutely fucking not.

But god, even if YN couldn’t stand his personality, she really couldn’t deny how fucking attracted she was to him, it would be hard not to with how beautiful he is.

It helps to know that he doesn’t sleep with people he works with which means that she could fully keep this a fantasy.

“See you can be an obedient little puppy,” Harry lets the condescending tone lace through his words.

YN has to clench her fists by her side to avoid smacking the ever living shit out of him.

“Go fuck yourself,” YN hisses because he’s now managed to completely piss her off, “I take back my god damn apology. You absolute douchebag.”

Harry smiles again, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights because he got the reaction he wanted out of her, and watches in amusement when YN grabs her luggage handle and though she can’t storm out of the room as she’d like with her foot, she exits without another word.

When she’s a bit down the hall, she stops, leaning against the wall as removes her shoe, massaging at the tender skin that was already pulsing from being in the heel.

It felt good to have it off for a moment but of course, Harry decides to come the same way down the hall which makes YN cut her rest short and slip back on her heel without looking at him.

As she starts back down the hallway, almost like yesterday night, the handle of her suitcase is pried from her hand by none other than Harry as he strolls down the hall, “What the fuc-“

“Keep your voice down,” Harry chides sharply, taking the duffle off her shoulder and swinging it over hers, “We’ll never make it to board on time with you limping around like this. C’mon, I don’t like being late and you’re going to make me.”

YN’s argument dies on her tongue because it’s actually very nice of him to be lugging her suitcase and duffel which they don’t say anything else but when they get inside the plane - Harry tucks them away for her too.

She’s relieved none of her friends are on board yet because she knew they would have a ton of questions if they saw what just happened.

And YN would not have a fucking clue how to explain it.

-

The next three months go on basically the same since being on the same flight crew with Harry, they would constantly go at it before flights, Harry would drag her into a private room and they’d argue a bit before he’d take her luggage to the terminal for her.

They never interacted at the hotel restaurant or bar but they happened to bump into each other a lot as YN made it a habit to get ice at night around the same time and they both never mentioned how Harry was magically coming up to his room at that time and would walk to the ice machine and back to her room together.

As time went on, the night walks with Harry, there wasn’t always much conversation, occasionally bitching about an unruly passenger or an idiot staff member, quite a bit of jabbing and poking at each other but it didn’t seem so filled with hatred anymore.

It wasn’t a pleasant relationship at all, they were both pretty awful to each other and YN typically ended every conversation they had with a ‘fuck you’ or some variation of it but now there were some not so hostile moments mixed in between them.

They weren’t friends, not even cordial really but YN knew that she had a closer relationship to Harry than anyone else on the crew and she’d had kept that hidden from her friends.

She didn’t want them to get the wrong impression, she knew they would jump to the conclusion that they were hooking up or that she liked him in that way - it was better to keep it on the down low even if there really wasn’t much to report.

It had been a late flight in, everyone had eaten one of the lackluster meals on the plane, and headed up to their hotel room the moment they landed to go to sleep.

YN was on the same boat, not bothering to get the unnecessary ice tonight, and she’s just stepped into her room when her phone buzzes with a text message from her friend back home.

Micah: What a dick. I didn’t even know he was in a new relationship, let alone that serious. [image attachment]

YN opens the conversation to a screenshot from Noah’s instagram, she’d blocked him after he refused to let her see the dogs anymore, and it was a picture of his most recent post.

He was holding a girl she didn’t recognize, her legs wrapped around Noah’s hips and her left hand held up to their face where they’re kissing, and a prominent diamond sat on her finger.

The caption was something sickeningly sweet about her saying ‘yes’ and how excited he is for the rest of their lives together.

They hadn’t even been broken up for an entire year yet.

One of the main reasons that they broke up in the first place was because after six years, YN was ready to settle down and get married but he said that he just didn’t want that right now and he wasn’t sure if he ever really wanted to get married.

It turns out that he just really didn’t want to marry her.

God, she was over him but the rejection still fucking stung.

She deletes the photo from the conversation so she doesn’t have to look at it any longer and she can’t go back to hyperfixate on it later but she felt like a bus just hit her suddenly as she sat in her empty hotel room.

YN wipes her eyes roughly, refusing to let herself cry over it, and instead, she does something she typically never does while she’s traveling for work - she slips on her shoes and heads right down to the hotel bar to get drunk.

The flight the next day wasn’t until noon so she didn’t have to roll out of bed super early and she just wanted to feel numb right now which alcohol had a great way of doing.

It was a bit busy for a weeknight, quite a few businessmen scattered around the lounge, a few couples, and a few lone people like herself when she sits down on a bar stool and orders Long Island.

YN wasn’t a light weight per se but it really didn’t take her much to be feeling good and by her third one, she was feeling warm and fuzzy, not as awful as she felt an hour earlier.

She was drunk, not to the point of blacking out or being belligerent but enough that she was ready to curl into bed and have a night long sleep and pray not to have a nasty hangover.

YN’s just ordered her fourth, a bit surprised that the bartender allowed it but she wasn’t showing any sign of being smashed, and then someone slid up beside her, close to where their shoulders brushed.

It was stupid but momentarily she wished it was Harry, thought it would be him but she frowns when it's one of the businessmen from the lounge that is grinning at her.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks even though he can see that she has a completely full one right in front of her.

“I’m good, thank you,” YN tells him without much kindness in her tone to let him know that she’s not interested in whatever he wants from her but that doesn’t seem to deter her.

“C’mon, just one? It’d be a crime not to buy a drink for someone so gorgeous,” He lays it on hard, he wasn’t sitting and he was too much in her space for her liking.

“I said no,” YN replies firmly, it was obvious in her body language that he was making her uncomfortable but he really didn’t seem to care.

“Are you married? What’s the big fuckin’ deal? I don’t see a ring on your finger, just have a drink-“ The man pushes, angrier as he realizes that he’s being rejected, YN ignores the wedding band on his finger.

“Is there an issue here?” A startling loud voice states from behind them and YN slumps in relief when she realizes that it was Harry.

“Who the fuck are you?” The businessman retorts, puffing up his chest and posturing like he was ready for a fight.

“Her husband,” Harry lies easily, he’s not as worked up as the man he’s confronted but he doesn't need to be - his presence and the way he holds himself is ten times more intimidating than the other man.

The businessman looks between the two of them before rolling his eyes, snatching his freshly ordered beer off the counter and going back to the table with his friends.

“Thanks for that,” YN tells him as she goes to take a sip of her drink.

Harry doesn’t allow her, intercepting the glass and putting it back on the bar, “You’re drunk. I think you��ve had enough to drink. It’s time for you to get to bed.”

YN frowns at the full drink, she can’t help the spoiled whine in the back of her throat, “But I want it.”

Harry surprisingly lets out a soft laugh, his hand coming to her shoulder and his thumb rubs a circle for a moment before he’s pulling back - realizing what he did but doesn’t lose his smile, “I know you do, seem to be really enjoying them but I think it’s time for you to get back to your room.”

“Mm, a few more sips,” YN coos which isn’t her normal behavior but she was drunk, she couldn’t be blamed for being a bit flirty with the prettiest man she’d ever seen, “S’good and sugary, make me forget.”

Harry’s brow furrows, “That’s an awful reason to drink. What are you trying to forget?”

YN shakes her head as she begins to pull out her wallet, grabbing a few bills but she stops when Harry directly hands the bartender enough to cover it.

“You didn’t have to do that,” YN mumbles because she doesn’t know why he was being nice to her.

“I know I didn’t, come on,” Harry replies, he gently holds her shoulder as she clumsily gets off the bar still and when she stumbles, Harry wraps his arm around her waist but just barely touching her to guide her, “You’re a sloppy drunk, aren’t you?”

YN pouts at that as they leave the bar, “I don’t drink a lot. I don’t think I’ve gotten drunk in the last year or two.”

“Why now?” Harry asks as he presses the button up when YN starts to tilt - the hand on her back finally moves to her hip, gripping her with more pressure to keep her standing.

YN snorts unattractively, her eyes were getting bleary and heavy, she was getting tired which happened when she drank liquor.

“Like you care why I’m sad,” YN scoffs as they’re stepping into the lift, he leans forward to press the number to their floor.

Harry pauses for a moment, he doesn’t tell her he cares but instead repeats more firmly, “Tell me what’s going on. I’m sick of asking.”

“My ex just got engaged,” YN whispers and fuck, she feels tears begin to prick at her eyes as she say it out loud.

“He’s your ex for a reason, why are you upset?” Harry responds but he doesn’t seem judgemental but curious.

“I was with him for six years. We broke up two months into this job. He said he didn’t want to be tied down, he didn’t think he ever wanted to get married, and he didn’t want me waiting around for a ring and babies,” YN swallows as she wipes at her cheeks, mascara was definitely starting to rub, “Less than a year later, he’s already proposed to a girl he barely knows. I don’t know why I wasn’t good enough for him. I was a good partner.”

Harry’s silent as the elevator goes up, his hand doesn’t leave her hip even though she’s not swaying but she appreciates it's ground her and makes everything seem a little less worse.

“I’m sorry,” Harry finally says and he doesn’t sound like he’s being condescending - it actually sounds like he means it, “I cannot imagine what that feels like to go through. I can’t imagine why he would do that. You’re smart, intelligent-“

“Don’t act like you don’t hate me, Harry. Just to make me feel better,” YN butts in because she doesn’t need him to butter her up when she knows he doesn’t mean those things.

“I don’t hate you,” Harry’s voice is deep but quieter than it usually is, “You get on my nerves nearly every fuckin’ second of the day but that doesn’t mean that I don’t see how smart, quick-witted, beautiful you are.”

YN bites her lip because she didn’t realize that she needed to hear that, it’s been a long while since she’s got a compliment, and in about the year leading up to ending her relationship with Noah - he’d never say anything nice like this.

“Thank you, I-I haven’t heard anything nice like that in a while,” YN tells him as she continues to swipe away tears and look down at her feet because she can feel Harry’s eye watching her and she’s embarrassed she’s responding this way.

“You should be hearing those things everyday,” He sighs and squeezes the plush of her hip kindly, guiding her again when the elevator at or door opens, “I know it’s a bit ironic considering our style of communication but I do mean those things.”

YN tells him her room number and they begin walking down the left of the hallway, her mind is fuzzy but feels a little more clear after their conversation, “It’s fine, I’m just as bad and I started it for the most part. I don’t expect to hear those things from you.”

As they wind up at her door, Harry steps back and puts his hands into his pockets, “I should be nicer to you but I hate to admit I enjoy getting under your skin and making you angry. You’re quite pretty when you're pissed at me.”

And YN’s mind goes to insecurity right away because she knows that Harry doesn’t like her even though he said he doesn’t hate her, he has no reason to be this nice to her and even though they’ve had moments through the past months of niceness …

She doesn’t know what makes her blurt this out and she wishes she could swallow it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

“Are you trying to be all nice to sleep with me or something? Then you’ll be a dick again once you get what you want?” YN’s words are just a bit slurred but hold a somewhat curious, somewhat accusing tone as she watches him.

The small smile that had been on his face for their conversation drops and in its place was a frigid scowl and before he even spoke, she knew that she had offended him but the way his shoulders tense up and he takes another step back from her.

“You know what’s fucked up? I finally try to put myself out there just the littlest bit for you and all you can think is that I want to fuck you? You think that lowly of me?” Harry’s soft whispers were gone and back was the cold, emotionless bravado that echoed off the empty hallway walls, “That I was just trying to use you?”

“I-Harry, I didn-no, I didn’t,” YN begins to stumble because unlike their usual back and forth arguing that dissipates in meaningless banter, this wasn’t that - she had actually upset him and that was never her intention.

“Save it your bullshit apology,” Harry replies to cut her off, shaking his head like he’s disappointed in how idiotic he’s been, “I’m done trying if this is where it fucking gets me. I knew it wasn’t fucking worth it.”

And with that, he’s storming away from her without another word and he doesn’t look back as she stares after him dumbfounded at what the fuck just happened.

The flight the next day home, Harry puts her back on the back crew which was the further position away from the cockpit who dealt with the consumers in the back of the aircraft.

Her friends congratulate her on getting away from the pit because they didn’t know anything about how Harry and hers relationship has developed but all she could feel was anxiety about how much she’d fucked up.

He doesn’t come into the staff room before takeoff and is already in the pit when the stewardess’ board, YN doesn’t see him until the crew is heading off the plane.

Harry makes it clear he’s looking for no interaction as he hustles through the terminal with long strides.

-

They have a three day break and during that time, YN isn’t even thinking about Noah and his new engagement that originally had her so torn up in the first place.

All she could think about was Harry.

She had a wishful thinking that the time off would heal the wounds and they’d be back to normal but she knew that wasn’t the case when Harry put her again on the back crew.

She did not see him throughout the flight once again and stayed behind while the stewardess got off the aircraft when they landed which meant YN knew she wasn’t going to see him.

He makes a habit of this for the next three flights as well before YN can’t take it anymore, knowing that he’s actively avoiding her because she’d hurt his feelings.

He didn’t come to the hotel bar, he didn’t meet her in the hallway for their ice run, and it was more devastating than YN though which made her come to the frightening revelation that she might have a crush on the man she’d been mostly enemies with for over six months now.

She missed interacting with him, she missed fighting with him.

She missed the way his jaw clenched when she made him irritated, the way he looked like he wanted to reach out and manhandle her when she purposely ignored him when he called for her on flights and he had to come out of the pit, or the way he would squeeze her wrist lightly sometimes as a thank you when she would bring him a drink.

YN didn’t want to admit to herself that she felt something, maybe it wasn’t full blown feelings but just a smidge of fondness for the grumpy bastard.

And maybe part of it was that she felt special, Harry didn’t soften for anyone else but her and even though she didn’t tell her friends about it - she knew they were suspicious that YN was constantly on pit duty or that she hasn’t gotten fired after how sassy she can be to her captain.

After the fourth flight of no sign of communication, YN decides that she needs to take matters into her own hands because she didn’t know what she wanted with Harry but she didn’t expect it to suck this much when he didn’t engage with her.

They’re in Milan and when Harry doesn’t show up at the hotel bar, well YN wasn’t expecting him to at this point, and she needed to figure out what hotel room he was in.

She’d normally never be so deceptive but she was desperate, she walks straight up to the front desk and tells a bold-face lie to the young receptionist.

“My boss left his phone at the bar,” YN lies, flashing her own phone quickly, “I completely forgot what room he said he was in. Would you be able to tell me?”

The girl doesn’t think anything of it as she looks up the information, letting YN know what room and YN is thanking her before walking determinedly to the elevators.

It’s late by this point, nearing eleven and she was praying that he wasn’t asleep as she stepped up to his door, her heart was pounding out of her chest at the mere thought of being rejected.

It takes a good three minutes before she finally musters up the courage to knock on the door a few times - god, she didn’t even know what she wanted to say to him.

There’s a bit of rustling behind the door, YN wonders if he’s going to open it - there’s no peephole on these ones and her breathing freezes when he swings open the door.

He was in a pair of gray joggers that were low on his hips, the band of his underwear peeking over but the main thing was that he was shirtless and he had tattoos everywhere.

Her brain couldn’t tell if it wanted to focus on memorizing the black ink on his skin or the definition of his stomach, a trail of sparse hair leading from his belly button into his underwear.

Harry doesn’t give anything away from his face, blunt and cold, “Can I help you?”

“I want to say I’m sorry,” YN decides that is the best place to start, “You were kind to me that night and before that even, it wasn’t right over me to insinuate you were doing it for an inappropriate reason.”

“I don’t need a fucking apology, I don’t care,” Harry bites out and YN knows that his guard is a hundred percent up by the way his posture is uncomfortable and defensive.

“You do care,” YN replies surely, “If it hadn’t bothered you, you wouldn’t have been ignoring me for the three weeks. I hurt your feelings and I’m sorry because it wasn’t my intention.”

Harry doesn’t deny it again but he doesn’t admit to it either, instead he grits out, “It doesn’t matter either way.”

“It matters to me,” YN argues back, now getting defensive.

“It shouldn't,” Harry’s voice is back to being louder, firmer.

YN bit her lip for a moment, deciding on how vulnerable she felt like being with the man who showed absolutely none himself, “I’ve missed you these past weeks. I miss fighting with you on the flights, I miss our nightly ice machine walks, and you giving me a hard time in the staff room before takeoff.”

Harry’s lips twitch before he’s pulling them in a tight line, “I accept your apology.”

“Are you done ignoring me?” YN presses because this doesn’t feel resolved and she’s never had the urge to want to touch someone so much.

“For now,” Harry’s lips barely tilt into a smile.

It’s quiet between the two for a long pause, staring at each other, and YN doesn’t know what she wants but she feels like she’s just standing there like an idiot, “Well, goodnight. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

Harry’s eyes dart back up to hers, she realizes that he’d been checking her out, and he doesn’t show any shame in being caught before nodding, “We are. Goodnight.”

YN turns towards her room, the door closing softly behind her but she pauses after a few steps because she’s never been adventurous, she’s never been bold, and she might be making a mistake but fuck, she has to just try.

She’s retracing her steps, knocking on the door harshly, and it was like Harry hadn’t gone back further into the room yet because he opens it up quickly.

They don’t say anything before YN steps forward, heart pounding in her ears, and leans up - pressing their lips together and letting her hand rest on his cheek.

It flips a switch in him because he’s pulling her into his room, shutting and locking the door before walking her right into the entryway wall - his lips were persistent and taking over as he coaxes her mouth open to lick into it.

He knocks her hand away from his face but only so he can take hers between his hands, cupping her jaw on each side tightly as he moves her head how he wants to deepen the kiss.

YN’s never been kissed like this in her life, she’d never been more aroused either.

Harry presses his hips forward until their pelvises are pressed together, he wants her to feel how hard he’s getting as pressed against her and bites at her bottom lip.

YN whines at that, her hands coming up to roam over his chest, it was so defined and muscular, not what she was used to - Harry was hard and firm where Noah had been soft and plusher.

When she thumb brushes over his nipple, his pec twitches and she has to do it a few more times until she gets her fill.

He wasn’t shy when he sucked on her tongue, licked at the roof of her mouth, and made her feel like he wanted to feel every single part of her as he moved down to the hem of her shirt.

He pulls back with his lips a delicious bubblegum pink, swollen and shiny from their spit, “What do you want? Do you want me to stop?”

That’s the last thing she wants.

YN shakes her head, “Don’t want to stop, please.”

Harry smiles at her, it’s a softer expression than she’s ever seen from him and he leans forward, nuzzling her cheek for a moment before dragging her in for another long kiss.

“Can I undress you then, pup?” Harry murmurs against her lips as he starts to bring up the bottom of her shift but slowly enough that if she told him no, he would stop.

“Please, just want you,” YN agrees breathlessly when she tries to move to the button of her jeans, Harry knocks her hand away with an annoyed grunt and glare.

“Let me do everything, I just want you to enjoy it. Don’t worry, you’ll get all of me. I’ll give you anything you fuckin’ want,” Harry tells her as he sheds her top, then bra.

He looks torn for a second like he can’t decide whether he wants to play with her chest or continue until she’s fully bare but he decides against the latter, cursing as he pulls down her pants, “Knew you’d have the cutest tits.”

“You’ve thought about this?” YN questions as he moves to discard her underwear.

“Of course I fucking have, it’s all I’ve thought about for the past month. No, I wasn’t doing any of those things to get in your pants but it didn’t mean I didn’t want to fuck you,” Harry’s voice is getting deeper and raspier as he’s gets more and more turned on, “On the bed.”

Noah’s the only guy that YN’s ever been with.

It was uncomfortable to have such a devastatingly attractive man standing in front of her when she didn’t feel anywhere as sexy as him.

The worry only stays for a moment because when she’s spread out in the middle of his bed, he’s tracing every inch of her skin, and moans loudly as he moves to squeeze himself once, “I think this is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. God, you’re like a little angel, aren’t you?”

“Come here,” YN whimpers, reaching out for him because she needs to touch him and he obliges eagerly, he’s tugging off his joggers but keeping his underwear on as he crawls over the bed and on top of her.

Harry finds her lips again, dropping his hips to grind against her center, and it feels so fucking good, just this contact through two layers of clothing and it all like a new experience to her - she never felt this with Noah.

Harry’s mouth moves but he’s not just kissing, he’s licking at her, sucking, and biting all over her jawline then neck until he gets to her chest where he lets a pleased hum when he cups them.

“Puppy, how are you this perfect, hm?” Harry coos as he leans down to graze his teeth against her hard nipple, “Pretty little thing coming to my room, begging for me to touch her, and then you show off this body? Maybe I should ignore you more often.”

YN turns her head and bites meanly at his hand which makes him chuckle and kiss the curve of her breast in apology before he’s wrapping his lips around one, fingers coming to pinch and roll the other one.

“Fuck,” YN gasps because he definetly knows how to use his mouth and her back arches involuntarily, pressing herself further into him, and trying to grind her hips up against where he’s hard, wishing he could slip between her folds like this.

Harry leaves them wet and hard as his lips continue down the center of sternum, down on her belly and she’d never thought it would feel good to have someone nip and suck at her plush but it did.

When he starts to move even further down, closer to her pubic bone, she freezes which Harry can tell right away by the hand on his shoulder tightens and her legs still from where they were restless.

“What’s wrong? Do you want to stop?” Harry asks with concern as he sits up more on his elbows to make eye contact with her - she didn’t know how he managed to look so cute and so obscene at the same time with worried eyes and puffy lips.

“You-I just,” YN stutters and she wants to smack herself for being an idiot because she should have known that it would lead like this but softly, she says, “You don’t have to…you know, do that.”

“Do what?” Harry replies with confusion, his fingers were still tracing mindless patterns on her tummy, thumb smoothing at the skin.

YN groans in embarrassment, she could feel her face getting hot, “You know…I’m just saying you don’t have to…,” Her eyes dart down to her lower half so that maybe he gets the hint.

“What? Eat your cunt?” Harry clarifies and of course he’d be this fucking crass in bed, she shouldn’t have expected anything less, “Do you not want me to? If you don’t want me to, I don't have to.”

“It’s not that,” YN wants to crawl into a hole and die.

“You’re acting like it would be a chore to me. I am one hundred percent sure that I’ll get just as much pleasure from tasting you on my tongue, getting my face in your perfect little cunt. Now what’s the issue?”

“You’re going to laugh,” YN mutters and she wishes she would have just kept her stupid mouth shut at this point.

“Tell me now,” He’s gone demanding again, his fingers pressing harder into her skin now.

“I’ve just never had it done to me before,” She admits finally, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm over her eyes to hide the absolute embarrassment of it all.

Harry crawls back up on top of her, forcefully moving her arm until they’re making eye contact, “I thought you were in a relationship for six years?”

“I was,” YN sighs as she curls her hand around his neck, “He said that men didn’t really do that often and he told me that he didn’t want to put his mouth on me and I never wanted to make him uncomfortable so we never did that.”

“Your ex is a selfish little prick,” Harry rasps against her lips, his hand moving down until he has his thumb pressed snug up against her clit which makes her twitch, “You get this excited from my thumb? You better not tell me he didn’t give you fingers either.”

“He didn’t want to do that either,” YN mewls when he starts a slow circular motion on her nerves.

“If it was possible, I’d have my mouth on your cunt and you riding my fingers every fucking day of the week,” Harry rumbles as he moves back down her body, “He’s a fucking dickhead who didn’t deserve you for a million different reasons. Do you want me to or no? I will understand either way.”

“Want it, Harry. I want it,” YN nearly slurs with how fucking turned on she is, her hips squirming again, and Harry gives her a dazzling fucking smile as he scotches down the bed.

He’s shouldering her thighs apart even further before he’s gripping the meat of one to keep her knee crooked and open as he groans like he’s getting pleasure from simply looking at her.

“God, I don’t think I’m going to survive this. I’ve never seen something this breathtaking before,” Harry says as he thumbs her folds apart, admiring her for another moment before he’s ducking down to bury his tongue tight up against her clit.

And holy shit.

She didn’t realize that this was what she had been missing.

Her legs try to close around his head but he keeps them spread and his other hand comes down the rest around her middle to keep her hips down.

He knows exactly what to do as he laps fat strokes of his tongue up from her core to her clit, over and over while YN is still relentlessly is trying to grind her hips up.

Harry pulls back which makes YN whine but he simply says, “Should have known what a brat you’d be in bed with how you are at work. Stay still now and let me do what I want to you. I promise it’ll feel good, baby.”

And his voice is so strict, demanding that she does finally relax into his hold which he rewards with fucking his tongue into her.

“M’close, Harry. Feels s’good,” YN moans as her stomach clenches.

“Come on, pup,” Harry coos against her, “Give me what I’ve earned, yeah?”

She’s almost disappointed she feels her orgasm coming because she doesn’t want to be over but Harry’s mouth is practiced and self-assured, he keeps the same pace throughout her orgasm which makes it longer by a few seconds.

YN melts into the mattress, body feeling loose and tingly as she comes down for her high, and her brows furrow when she sees Harry push down his briefs and begin to stroke himself with intent.

YN weakly kicks his thigh with a pout, “Don’t.”

Harry doesn’t stop but he slows down which gives YN a look at just how well endowed he is and to no surprise, mouth-wateringly beautiful.

“Don’t get myself off?”

“Fuck me,” YN breathes out, surprising herself with her boldness.

Harry’s hand stops, “Yeah? You’d let me get you on my cock, puppy? I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

And….

YN wants to preen at the compliment, after feeling like she didn’t deserve anything to hear Harry say that made her stomach flutter even if it was just dirty talk.

“How do you want it?” Harry asks as he comes closer again, ducking down to kiss at her knees, thighs, and he peppers kisses over her mound which feels wildly more intimate than anything she’d ever done with Noah.

“However you want,” YN murmurs shyly because her only experience is Noah and they had a vanilla sex life to say the least, a whole lot of doggy and her riding him so he didn’t have to do any work.

Harry laughs at that, lips vibrating against her belly, “I’ll take you anyway you’ll let me. What do you like most? What makes you come hard?”

YN doesn’t have an answer to this because she’s never had an orgasm from penetrative sex before without her own fingers rushing to get her there so he doesn’t finish first and leave her hanging.

Harry is obviously experienced and so it doesn’t make her proud to have to feel inexperienced at this moment.

“Shut the fuck up,” Harry huffs out even though she didn’t say anything, he takes a moment to nip at her hip, “You’re telling me this fucker never got you off? Please tell me this is a joke.”

YN tries to cover her face again but he wraps his hands around her wrist and pulls them away, “This is so embarrassing.”

“It is,” Harry agrees easily, “For him. Can’t believe you were with him for six years and he couldn’t even make you come. You’re telling me she was neglected this whole time,” Harry frowns as his thumb comes back to her clit, “Should be a crime.”

“I mean I did get off but I had to….get myself there,” YN starts to wiggle again, wanting to chase the friction from his movement.

“I’d love to watch you do that sometime but tonight, you’re not going to have to lift a finger,” Harry tells her confidently before he’s positioning himself above her, lips brushing hers but not quite kiss as he lines himself up and she wraps her legs around his narrow waist, “I like this position. I want to see how gorgeous you are when you come.”

YN brings a hand up to his curls, knotting her fingers in the strands, and brings his lips fully against hers as he pushes in, it doesn’t hurt but it definitely takes a minute to adjust as Harry was much more blessed in the department than Noah was and she hadn’t had sex for over six months.

“Wait wait,” YN pants out, pulling back, “I -I’m on birth control but are you clean?”

Harry smirks at her like she’s asked something funny, “I’m clean. I got tested after my last partner.”

“Me too,” YN replies, relieved that they don’t have to stop.

Harry resumes kissing her but when he’s finally all the way in, his breathing stutters and he lets out a low whine that makes YN throb - like she felt so good to him that he couldn’t stand it.

“Harry, you feel so good,” YN mewls as he starts a slow but powerful rhythm, she was turned on to the point where she could hear it as he thrusted in and out.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever felt, pup,” Harry praises and she doesn’t know whether it’s just the dirty talk, it most likely is but it still makes her feel empowered, sexy.

It becomes to much when he starts to pick up the pace to continue kissing, every other breathe out of YN’s mouth was a moan and he moves down to wrap his lips around her nipple and his hands came under her bum - positioning her more upwards so her backside was off the bed and he could slide in perfectly.

The change in position made him hit a spot she’d only heard about in her body, on every odd motion he would nudge it, and she was going to come again without any stimulation on her clit.

“Ha-Harry,” YN moans louder than she’s ever been and he pulls back from her breasts as he’s staring at her now, eyes studying her face.

“Oh baby, are you close f’me? Am I doing a good job?” Harry’s voice isn’t as steady as before either, there was a bead of sweat on his temple, and his chest was pink with arousal.

“Yeah, I’m close-“ YN doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before she’s squeezing around him, shaking as he keeps his pace to work her through it, and she’s a little dazed that she misses when Harry stills inside her - letting out his own filthy noises and praises as he comes down too.

YN didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t for Harry to collapse his full weight on top of her and nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck for a moment, kissing her pulse point before rolling off.

She doesn’t want to assume that she can sleep here, she still needs to take off her makeup and she doesn’t have pajamas, and she feels anxiety creeping in which makes her get off the bed.

Harry lays on his back, one arm above his head, stomach flexing as he catches his breath, unashamed as he lays on full display because he has to know how beautiful he is.

“Where are you going?” Harry frowns as he watches her gather her scattered clothes.

“Um…back to my room? I have to take off my makeup, change,” And she didn’t want to mention showering because she wasn’t going to sleep after he'd come inside her.

“You don’t have to, I don’t want you to think that I’m kicking you out,” Harry sits up more, reaching for his briefs before his joggers and standing up to go over to his luggage to rummage for a shirt, “Let me walk you back at least.”

“Walk of shame,” YN half-jokes as she pulls her top over her head, bra crumpled in her hand because she didn’t feel like putting it back on.

“There’s was nothing shameful about how fucking well you took it,” Harry gives her a cheeky smile as he grabs his keycard, her room was only a few doors down.

When she unlocks her door, she turns around with her hand on the handle, and doesn’t know what to say but Harry’s leaning down to kiss her softly this time, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

And when YN steps inside her room, closing the door behind her, she knows she’s royally screwed because that was the best sex of her life and now she knows for sure she has a fat fucking crush on Harry.

-

The first month after their original hookup was filled with more sex, it wasn’t every night but at least every other time they had to stay in a hotel - Harry would find his way into YN’s room and they’d have amazing sex each time.

He had her constantly on pit crew and they still bickered back and forth but it wasn’t as heated and it turned more into teasing than actual fights anymore which YN surprisingly didn’t mind.

YN felt like she’d gotten to know just bare minimum about Harry while she’d be pouring her heart out when the right moment hit, and he didn’t stay the night but he’d hang around for a bit before leaving her room.

It was also the month that YN realized that she didn’t just like vanilla sex and Harry had made her realize that very quickly because before him, she’d never had sex anywhere but in bed and a few times in a shower.

It had been an evening flight out, their flight had got delayed due to a gnarly thunderstorm which meant they would be stranded at the airport for another three hours before their plane came in.

Harry never spent time in the employee lounge, pilots had their own area which was rumored to be substantially nicer than the one that YN was currently sitting in.

They still have two hours until takeoff when she receives a text from Harry.

Harry: Come to the pilot’s lounge. Third floor near gate b32.

YN’s heart rate spikes as she gathers her luggage, her friends looking at her curiously, “I think I’m going to walk around a bit, maybe find a new book to read.”

“Want us to come?” Elaina volunteers but doesn’t seem eager to move from where she’s splayed on a overstuffed chair while playing Candy Crush.

“I think I’ll be fine,” YN replies as she heads out the door, it was actually good luck that all three of her friends appeared to be in a lazy mood because usually at least one of them would want to tag along with her.

YN knows other staff are not prohibited in the pilots lounge and so she’s nervous as she finds the long hallway that leads to the tucked away space that he’s referring to.

He’s waiting outside the door with his normal unreadable expression, his uniform perfectly fitted and pressed - the thrill of her being able to take it off of him makes her start to get wet without him even doing anything.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” YN tells him even though it’s obvious.

That makes Harry crack a grin, a wolfish tilt to his lips, “I’ll sneak you in.”

Harry opens the door with a special keycard, guiding YN into the lounge, it’s empty in here but it’s a million times nicer than the one that she’s used to with luxurious comfy seats, a pristine kitchen, and big flat screen televisions.

Harry moves to hold her wrist, tugging her along until they’re in the back corner, and Harry’s pushes open another door - to a single stall bathroom that looked like it could be out of a movie with shining tile floors and floral wallpaper.

“Harry,” YN warns because she knows with this is going and she doesn’t want to get in trouble.

“It’s fine, pup. There’s no one in here,” Harry soothes as he locks the door, he is predatory as he stalks towards her, his eyes dark and his movements slow but precise.

“Someone could come in at anytime,” YN points out desperately, she wants to do this but she wants to be assured that there’s no way that they’re going to get caught, even though he can’t guarantee that.

“Better keep your pretty noises to yourself then,” Harry rasps, YN has noticed how much scratchier and deeper his voice gets when he’s turned on, it’s unfairly hot.

She doesn’t have time to reply because he’s picking her up from under her bum and seating her on the sink countertop, his mouth moving to hers, and bringing her into a kiss that’s already filled with desire.

YN is nervous, she’s knows it’s dumb, and she doesn’t want Harry to make fun of her because of it but she’s never had sex somewhere this….risky and this is all so new.

Harry can tell by the way she’s kissing, distracted and in her own mind which makes him pull back, his thumb coming to rub at her bottom lip, pulling it down a bit.

“Do you not want to?” Harry checks as he watches her face, “We don’t have to, baby. We can wait until we get to the hotel. It’s okay with me either way. I should have check-“

YN cuts his off with another kiss before she pulls back, fingers coming to graze along the collar of his uniform, dipping underneath and caressing the skin as much as she could.

“I want to. I’m just nervous, I’ve never had sex anywhere but in a house,” YN’s face is heating with embarassment, admitting how fucking vanilla she is to someone who obviously isn’t.

Harry’s smile is nearly fond, “Tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay? M’going to show you that you deserve to be fucked whenever and wherever you want. I don’t know how your ex never did it outside the house. I thinking about fucking you everywhere, the hotel pool, over the edge of the bar, on the balcony.”

YN’s thighs clench and she presses their lips together to shut him up because sometimes his dirty talk is so sincere and downright filthy that she’ll combust if she hears anymore of it.

They don’t get caught but fuck it gets YN addicted because it’s not the only time it happens.

-

The second month, things had evolved even more.

Harry started saying that he was much too tired to walk back to his hotel room that was right down the hall and YN never kicked him out, he started staying after every time they hooked up.

YN would ask about Harry’s life outside of work but he really never divulged much which made YN remember each time that this was simply casual for him - there was no interest in a relationship and he didn’t like her like that, didn’t want to get to know her or open up about himself.

It made things harder, when he would kiss her so sweetly and tell her every time that she’s the best he’s ever had, it was hard to comprehend that he didn't have feelings for her either.

Especially on nights where he didn’t even get off.

He was too exhausted from a long flight but YN wasn’t, how he’d eat her out or give her his fingers as he kissed her softly, goading her sweetly to come so they could go to sleep.

He’d do nice things outside of the bedroom too.

On days where they didn’t have to be at the airport until noon, Harry would order breakfast to her room, he had arranged a massage for her, and then once a spa day when they had a day off in Toronto.

They still hadn’t hung out without having sex until almost three months into their casual arrangement.

YN didn’t feel good when they landed in London.

When she’d gone to her hotel room, she’d thrown up everything she’d eaten that day, and it felt like she’d been hit by a truck as she showered before laying in bed.

She hadn’t gotten sick again but she could tell that something she’d eaten had upset her stomach.

Then around ten, there’s a knock at her door.

YN groans because her body protests when she pulls herself off the bed to open the door - just in a big shirt and underwear because she already knows who it is.

Harry steps into the room, going to cup her jaw, and lean in for a kiss when she pulls back much to his displeasure - a frown gracing his face as she denies him.

“I don’t feel good, I’m sorry. I don’t feel like having sex,” YN tells him, hoping he doesn't mind too much - she remembers how upset Noah would get if she turned him down, “Maybe tomorrow morning but I got sick-“

Harry’s frown deepens as he guides her towards the bed, “We’re not doing anything if you don’t feel good. Don’t worry about the next time we are going to. We’ll find time when you’re feeling better.”

“But…” YN hates that she feels like she has to ask, “Are you mad?”

Harry looks a bit devastated at that question, his voice soft as he pats her bum as she crawls back in bed, “Why on earth would I be mad, pup?”

It’s the first time he’s called her that outside of sex.

He’d call her other things like baby, darling but that nickname hadn’t been spoken before in this context.

“Because I don’t want to have sex tonight,” YN wants to look away but he holds her gaze so intently.

Something clicks and Harry realizes that this insecurity must come from her last relationship.

“I wouldn’t be mad even if you never wanted to have sex with me again,” Harry assures her and he sounds sincere as he sits next to her, “I fucking love doing that with you but if you didn’t want to tonight or whenever, I’d never be upset. I respect whatever you want to do.”

“Thank you,” YN smiles weakly, she wanted a cuddle and it didn’t feel like she could because they didn’t do just that.

Harry nods, squeezing her thigh before standing back up.

“Have a goodnight,” YN tells him as he turns his back to her.

He whips around with confusion written all over his face, “You want me to leave?”

YN is just as confused, “I thought that’s what you were doing.”

“I was just going to turn off the floor lamp,” Harry nods to the light still on in the far corner, “But I can go if you don’t want me here-“

“No!” YN says too quickly, “I want you to stay. I just, we haven’t done this without you know…having sex.”

Harry’s face relaxes as he realizes he’s not being kicked out but he does move to turn off the lamp before stripping down to his briefs, he doesn’t respond to her last sentence but instead says, “Put on a movie.”

She does and he brings her into his chest and now that becomes a thing.

-

By the middle of the third month, they spend every night together when they’re traveling, and even when they’re not having sex, they go to bed cuddled up at night.

Harry doesn’t even bother with false pretenses and stops putting his suitcase in his own hotel room.

YN still finds frustration in how closed off Harry is, he’s attentive and at least acts interested when YN talks about herself and her life but he rarely gives anything out.

She’d been dying to know about his ex-wife, if what his friends said was true and he was married but he doesn’t ever mention an ex-wife or anything much for that matter.

It starts to feel like YN wants this more than him which isn’t fair to him because he never said that he wanted a relationship with her and she knew she fucked up by falling for him.

One night though, something changes and it begins to give YN hope that this wasn’t all in her head that he might like her too.

They had gone out onto the balcony of the hotel, they were in Madrid, and it overlooked the city as they laid on the lounge chair, YN in between his legs, and the warm air had a light breeze.

“I’ve never been to the Maldives, never been lucky enough to get a flight there,” YN hums as she plays with the rings on his finger, his hand resting on her belly, “But I’d say that’s my dream vacation. Always have wanted to go. Have you flown there?”

“I haven’t had a flight there, working wise. I had my honeymoon there,” Harry replies and his voice is tighter, more vulnerable than it was just mere minutes ago.

“Oh,” YN doesn’t know what to say.

“It was beautiful. The water was amazing, it just looked like you were living in a magazine,” Harry continues but he sounds strained like it’s hard for him to even talk about it.

“That’s why I want to go,” YN keeps her voice upbeat, giving him the opportunity not to elaborate if he didn’t want to.

“I was married for five years,” Harry tells her with hesitation.

“When did you get divorced?” YN can’t help but ask, hoping it doesn’t make him close back up.

“We didn’t,” Harry says but there’s no sharp edge to his voice, “She passed away.”

YN’s heart absolutely sinks into her stomach.

“I am so sorry to hear that, Harry,” YN squeezed his hand, bringing it up so she could kiss his palm and he allowed it.

“We…we were separated at the time and had filed for divorce,” Harry continues with a shudder, “We hadn’t been getting along for the past two years of our marriage. We got married right out of college, we’d only known each other for six months before we eloped. We were stupid and young. Once the honeymoon phase was over, we realized we had nothing in common or even really liked each other. We tried to make it work but we couldn’t.”

“I…uh, I didn’t want to be with her anymore but I still loved her,” Harry’s voice is shaky, “Not so much as a lover but she was still my friend. I…It was hard. She was in a car accident coming home from work, she was working the night shift as a nurse at the hospital. Drunk driver.”

“That’s heartbreaking,” YN feels herself getting upset for Harry, tears falling down her cheeks at what he had to go through, she couldn’t even imagine.

“Don’t cry, S’okay. I’m okay now,” Harry soothes as he leans forward to thumb at her damp cheeks, “I’m okay. I got counseling, I’ve worked through my grief.”

“I should be comforting you, I’m sorry,” YN apologizes but she’s taken by surprise when he leans forward and kisses her firmly, it’s not sexually charged but there’s so much feeling as he holds her to him.

It feels like more than just friends with benefits.

It has to be.

-

Harry was on a rampage at work, YN had never seen him so infuriated in her life as they were up in the air, five hours into a eleven hour flight, and he was more pissed than even his worst fight with YN.

The ground crew hadn’t fully fueled the aircraft, they weren’t going to make it to their destination on what they had left to work with, it wasn’t something that often occurred but it has happened occasionally in the past.

However, it meant that Harry had to work with staff on the ground to figure out what airport he needed to land out to refuel while figuring out the logistics of changing the course and time of the flight.

He hadn’t lashed out at YN but he’d chewed out nearly everyone else on the crew at least once but poor Perry got shouted out at least three times and she had cried two of them.

At the end of the day, the eleven hour flight took nearly fourteen, and by the time YN and Harry were in their bed, it was late, and they were both tired as they turned on a movie.

YN isn’t sure about how the topic went to their previous relationships but she answered anything Harry had asked about Noah, YN felt like she could do the same now that he had opened up about his wife.

“What did your family think of you getting eloped six months after meeting each other?” YN was curious, figured it wasn’t a crazy question to ask at all but Harry visibly tenses.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Harry throws up his guard instantly and usually YN is understanding but quite frankly, it is starting to piss her off now.

“Of course you don’t,” YN scoffs with an annoyed edge.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Harry shoots back, sitting up straighter and looking over at her.

“That you will never open up to me! I share everything about me with you and you give me absolutely nothing. You shared about your wife that one night but beside that, you’ve never let me get to know you!” YN points out as she sits up too, anger rising in her chest.

An expression that YN doesn’t recognize flashes across his face for a moment before he’s covering it with a scowl, “I don’t have to share anything with you, YN. We’re not dating, we’re not in a relationship. It shouldn’t fucking matter if you know me.”

And ouch, that….that really fucking hurt.

YN could feel herself getting more upset than she’s been in a long time because this was her getting rejected officially.

Because if this is all he wants, YN doesn’t know if she can be okay with that anymore.

“Get the fuck out of my room,” YN finds herself huffing out, ripping the covers off of her legs and standing up - she feels a wave of naseous run over her as she bolts to the bathroom, slamming the door and doubling over the toilet.

Harry opens the door, moving to pull her hair away from her face, and rubs at her back as she heaves into the bowl, moaning at how gross she feels before flushing - he takes a step back from her.

“Thanks,” YN mutters as he gives her room to walk over to the sink to brush her teeth, “My stomach’s been sensitive to food lately while we’ve been on trips.”

“I know,” Harry replies simply because this isn’t the first time he’d held her hair as she got sick.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” YN tells him and at the same time, her heart is completely ripping into two.

This is the moment she realizes how irrevocably in love with Harry that she is and she’s fallen so hard that it feels impossible to dig herself out of the hole she’s dug.

If she couldn’t have all of him then she knew she was hurting herself in the long run because she’d never get what she wanted from him and sex just wasn’t enough for her even if it was for him.

“YN,” Harry’s voice is smaller than it’s ever sounded, shocked by what she’s saying and his eyes are wide, pleading, “Don’t. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn't have said those things. Today hasn’t been a good day, I didn’t -”

“Don’t apologize, Harry,” YN shakes her head, voice steady and firm,“It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I just…this isn’t working for me. I can’t just be a hookup for you, I don’t want that. I want to know you, I want more than what you want. It’s just better if we stop while we’re ahead.”

“YN, please just-“ Harry sounds like he’s begging but YN’s made up her mind and nothing has ever hurt more than this.

“Harry,” Her voice is stern, “Please just leave.”

He bites his lip because he wants to argue more, he honestly looks like he’s near tears but YN doesn’t know if that’s just her imagination as he exits the bathroom to gather his clothes into his suitcase - digging around for the keycard to his own room he threw carelessly somewhere.

YN didn't sleep that night, eyes hurting from how much she’d cried, cheeks raw from where she had continuously wiped away the traitorous tears because this hurt worse than anything she’d ever gone through with Noah.

-

YN does exactly what Harry had done to her in the past.

She hides away before flights because her friends have told her that Harry has been coming in looking for her  and she switches positions with someone else so that she’s not in the pit.

She ignores Harry when he knocks at her hotel door one night, ignores his text messages asking for them just to talk, and lets the food he sends up from room services go cold.

It’s only been a week since the incident but YN hasn’t felt any better with her stomach issues as she settles back at home after another flight - she’s restocking her toiletry bag for the next day when she realizes that she didn’t need to refill her tampons.

YN’s heart sinks into her stomach when she realizes that she can’t remember the last time that she had a period but there is absolutely no fucking way that she’s pregnant because she was on brith control and took it regularly.

She was googling frantically the statistics of birth control not working and that the pill is ninety-one percent effective which means there’s only a nine percent chance it’s not.

But there’s a chance.

YN digs in her cabinets for an old test that she knew she’d shoved somewhere after she’d broken up with Noah and had sworn off sex, and she was shaking as she waited for the results.

Her phone chimes with a text from Harry.

Please, can we just talk?

Don’t shut me out. Please.

YN, can you just give me a chance to explain myself?

Please, YN. I can’t stand this. It’s killing me. Please.

And YN ignores them, hyperventilating as her alarm sounds, and she flips the plastic stick - a digital reading across the screen and in clear bold letters, it tells her what she didn’t want to fucking see.

Pregnant.

Holy fucking shit.

“No,” YN whimpers as she blinks at it, “No no no.”

She was responsible with her pill, how was she part of the small percentage?

It never happened with Noah, why now?

Why was it with the person who didn't want her like this?

YN feels lightheaded, stumbling to her bed, and burying herself in the covers because she doesn’t know what to think or do or feel because she’s pregnant with Harry’s baby and he doesn’t even want a relationship with her.

-

YN calls off work for the next two weeks because she doesn’t know what else to do, she had vacation time to use, and she couldn’t face Harry right now as she figured out what she was going to do or how she was going to tell him.

She’s still violently sick nearly everyday, feeling worse as the days go on, when her two weeks was up - she didn’t feel any better about going to work.

Harry hadn’t stopped texting her, trying to call her but she couldn’t even read them because it hurt too much.

YN is in love with him, she had a baby in her stomach that is half him, and he didn’t want any of that.

On the day that she returns to work, they’re going to London again.

She’d been having awful cramps all morning, getting sick twice in the airport bathroom, and felt like she was striking a fever as she boarded the plane.

Harry was out of the cockpit, standing right outside of it, and his eyes flash in concern when he sees YN, “Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you -“

“I’m fine,” YN brushes him off, lying through her teeth as she stows her bag away before retreating to the back of the aircraft despite his eyes on her the whole time.

-

YN lets her friends convince her into going to the hotel restaurant that night despite feeling like death, the cramps hadn’t stopped, her head was now pounding, and she still felt overheated.

Her food was untouched as her friends giggled and gossiped around her but suddenly she felt like she was going to pass out.

The stomach cramps turned into a sharper pain, something she’d never felt before.

It was indescribable and she knew that she needed to go to the hospital.

And all she can think about is the baby.

That this isnt’ good.

“Oh…Oh my god,” YN gasps as she pushes her chair back, “I- I need to go to the hospital.”

All three girls jerk their head with wide eyes, immediately confused and worried, Justine who was sitting next to her, “What’s wrong?”

“Cramps, I’m having cramps. They’re….fuck, they’re bad,” YN groans as she moves her hand to her stomach, feeling like she may just double over in pain.

“Do you think that it might just be your period?” Perry asks as she begins looking for a staff member.

YN shakes her head sharply, “No-no because I'm pregnant.”

All three girls gasp in surprise, moving into action as they flag over the waiter to call the paramedics - the pain in her stomach was starting to overwhelm her.

“Call Harry,” YN shoves her phone at Elaina, “Please.”

“He’ll understand, YN. Don’t worry about work right now,” She tries to assure her.

“Elaina, call him,” YN says firmly, giving her a look, and that when all three girls register what she is implying - they try to hide the absolute shock as Elaina presses his contact information.

YN zones in and out of consciousness for a while, barely remembers when Harry arrives but he’s brushing her hair out of her face, murmuring things to her, and patting a wet rag on her forehead that someone gave him.

He clambers into the ambulance with her and she starts to come back to reality for a little while the paramedic begins to ask her questions about her health history.

She doesn’t know how it didn’t get communicated from her friends about what was going on but the EMT asks, “Do you have any idea why you’re having this pain?”

Harry’s hand is gripping hers tightly, he’s confused and has no idea what is going on but he’s shaking as he watches her.

“I’m-I’m pregnant,” YN manages to spit out and squeezes her eyes shut because she doesn’t want to see Harry’s reaction to that news.

His hand leaves hers.

“Baby, oh my god,” Harry gasps in surprise but he’s getting up from the seat, leaning over, and pressing kisses to her sweaty forehead, “You’re pregnant...”

“Your baby,” YN nods as she tenses as a cramp fleets through her body, “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I took my pills I promise, I don’t know how-“

“Sssh,” Harry soothes instantly, lips peppering kisses all over her face now as he strokes her hair, “S’okay, you’re okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m here and I love you so much, pup.”

YN blinks up at him blearily, “You love me?”

Harry nods, there’s tears in the corner of his eyes, “I’ve been trying to tell you for the last weeks but you wouldn’t talk to me. Of course, I fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” YN tells him but has to grit her teeth when another pain shoots through her and everything goes dark for a while.

-

YN wakes up in a hospital bed, there blinds are drawn shut and it’s dark in the room, she can tell it’s still night as there is no sun seeping through the cracks of the sills.

She feels substantially better than when she was being transported here but her side is still aching and as she blinks her eyes open, she sees Harry sitting right next to her bed with his head slumped against the edge of the mattress.

He was asleep and looked to be in the most uncomfortable position, sitting up in a chair with his back hunched at an awful angle, his one hand resting on his thigh but the other was holding tightly onto hers.

She could fully admit that her heart soared with love as she watched the man beside her sleep - it may sound creepy but she loved watching him like this because all his frown wrinkles were smoothed, he was relaxed with his puffy lips parted, his eyelashes long against his cheekbones.

Her free hand comes to his hair, carding her fingers through the curls, and lightly scratching her nails against his scalp.

It takes a minute but he finally stirs, a sharp intake of breath as he sits up with wide eyes, there was so much anxiety in his expression that YN had never seen before this night.

“Pup,” Harry rasps, his voice thick from sleep but he brings her hand up to kiss the back of it, avoiding the IV, “How long have you been awake?”

“Just now,” YN tells him and she knows, she knows she needs to ask what happened but the sinking feeling in her stomach tells her that she no longer has a baby growing in her stomach.

“I love you,” Harry breathes out quickly like he’s worried she’ll kick him out of the room, “Pretty much from the beginning I think. I should have let you in, I wanted to. I just…if I have you that means I could lose you. I’ve been through that and I don’t think I could handle it if that happened to you. I hadn’t been with anyone since my wife passed. It’s been ten years and I’m scared.”

“I love you too,” YN whispers sincerely, leaning over slightly and Harry meets her the rest of the way to lay a gentle kiss on her lips, thumb coming to brush under her cheekbone, “The baby..”

Harry bites his lip, jaw clenching but not from anger this time but YN’s absolutely alarmed when he starts to cry, “Our baby is healthy and stable.”

“Wha-What?” YN stammers out in disbelief, she had fully prepared herself for the news that she had miscarried, “The stomach pain, I-You’re lying. Please, don’t- I can’t.”

“Baby, no,” Harry coos soothingly, standing up and leaning over her, pressing his forehead against hers, “It’s wasn’t anything to do with your pregnancy. Your appendix ruptured. The baby was never at risk, they’re okay.”

“I had appendicitis? No-not a miscarriage?” YN clarifies because she doesn’t feel like she’s awake right now, she had prepared herself for the worst news possible.

“Yes, they removed your appendix. They checked on the baby. Everything is fine with you and our baby,” Harry assures her as he peppers kisses all over her face like he did the night before, “I heard their little heart beat, YN. They’re already growing and so strong. Fuck, I’m so in love with them and I just found out.”

“I took my birth control everyday at the same time,” YN begins to explain as she watches Harry’s hand drift down to her stomach, there wasn’t any sign yet maybe a little pudge she hadn’t noticed but he still laid his hand there protectively, “I don’t know why it didn’t, I’m sorry-“

“Do not ever apologize to me about this,” Harry replies firmly, his voice serious and deep as he pulls back to look at her, “Of course, this isn’t what I was expecting but I want it. I want it so fucking badly. I never- I never thought I had kids after you know…what happened.”

“I don’t even know anything about you,” YN sniffles as she pulls him back down, digging her face into his shoulder for comfort as his hand comes to cup the back of her head.

“We have about six months for you to learn every single thing about me,” Harry murmurs with a wet chuckle, “I’m done having walls up. I was trying to tell you that for the last month. I am so fucking in love with you I can’t think straight. I want you to know all of me.”

“I want that too, I want you in every way,” YN presses her lips to his shoulder, tears making his shirt damp.

“You have another night in the hospital,” Harry tells her, “For observation. I think I’d like to start now.”

“Okay,” She nods quietly, moving over with a wince until Harry can squeeze into the small hospital bed with her.

“I grew up in this shitty little apartment above a Chinese restaurant…” Harry starts his story, YN had never heard him speak so much but for the rest of her hospital stay, aside from naps, Harry doesn’t stop sharing.

And he never stops again after that.

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite QL Kisses of 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do!

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

From horny kisses to sweet kisses, lip kisses to hand kisses, and everything in between, these were my favorites of the year. A few couples feature twice but that doesn't mean I love the others any less, it just means I couldn't decide between two.

♡ Rak x Mut Blinding Blue Jellyfish Light of Love Kiss (Love Sea)

Fort and Peat are such good on-screen kissers that I could've honestly chosen any other kiss from this show and it would've been amazing but! Blinding light of love kisses are my favorite kisses so it had to be this one.

♡ God x Diew Pilot Kiss (Monster Next Door)

YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH I WISH THIS KISS HAD MADE IT INTO THE SHOW. THIS KISS SINGLE-HANDEDLY CONVINCED ME TO EVEN WATCH THE SHOW IN FIRST PLACE.

Pilot kiss you will always be famous.

♡ Jack x Joke First Kiss (Jack & Joker)

Now THAT is how you resolve the tension. Sometimes the slow burn is really a slow fuse and at the end you get a very hungry, very horny explosion. Thank you, YinWar.

♡ Gi Seop x Jin Woo Under the Bed Kiss (Boys Be Brave!)

There's just something about this scene that really made it stick with me. It means everything to me that Jin Woo was the one to kiss first after he spent so much time and energy trying to run away from his feelings. I always love when I can see the exact moment someone gives in.

♡ Yuan x Qian Morning After Kisses (Unknown)

Quite possibly one of my favorite morning after scenes ever. Tender and sleepy and soft and filled with the relief of finally having something you've wanted your entire life but never believed you could have.

♡ Korn x Tonkla Reunion Kiss (4 Minutes)

Did I spend the entire show wanting Tonkla to kill Korn? Absolutely, and I still wish he had but you know what? Tonkla wanted Korn and I want Tonkla to get everything he wants in this life. Also it was just a really damn good kiss.

♡ Vivi x Mook Couch Kiss (Love Sea)

Vivi could neither communicate her feelings effectively nor follow her own excellent advice but what she could do was kiss the breath out of Mook and do it very well.

♡ Haruki x Jin Playground Kiss (Our Youth)

It's not just that this is the first time we could see Jin actively kiss Haruki back, and with the blinding light of love illuminating them no less. It's also that Jin finally allowed himself to voice his genuine desires and be selfish and allowed himself to give in to the moment.

♡ Moo x Kang Boyfriend Proposal Kiss (Only Boo!)

MY ADORABLE BOYS ARE FINALLY BOYFRIENDS FOR GOOD!They're living their dreams, they're in love, and they're letting the whole world know it, together.

♡ Anin x Pin "It's Still Noon" Kiss (The Loyal Pin)

After so many years of yearning, there was not a force on this earth that could've stopped Anin from making time with her girl at every opportunity. Who cares if it's noon, they're in their house and food shouldn't be the only thing that gets eaten in that dining room.

♡ Kyousuke x Isumi Confession Cheek Kiss (Sugar Dog Life)

Listen. Sometimes, when you are in love with someone who is very sweet and oblivious, a simple confession isn't enough. You need to hit them over the head with your feelings, or kiss them as the case may be, to help them along and realize their own.

♡ Yak x Dee Over the Shoulder Kiss (Wandee Goodday)

It's just such a pretty kiss. They both are, but that cheek kiss hits especially good with that blissed out look on Dee's face. My love of blinding light of love kisses might have some serious competition from pink light kisses.

♡ Jane x Ryan Tippy Toes Kiss (The Trainee)

Their first kiss, which took place just moments before, was perfectly lovely. I enjoyed it a lot. BUT THIS SECOND KISS? THIS LITTLE PECK WHICH RYAN ASKED FOR BY SIMPLY STANDING UP ON HIS TIPPY TOES? SUBLIME. PEAK ROMANCE.

♡ Meiji x Freya Lipstick Kiss (Deep Night: The Two of Us)

The correct way to apply lipstick. The only way to apply lipstick actually.

♡ Do Hoe x Ju Yeong Snack Time Cheek Kisses (Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo)

This? This was what we deserved. We deserved the achingly sweet domesticity of Ju Yeong bringing Do Hoe snacks while he studied and kissing his cheek every time. We deserved to see them in matching fuzzy teddy bear couple pajamas.

IT'S WHAT WE DESERVED!

♡ Phee x Non Pink Kiss (Dead Friend Forever)

I was thrilled for this kiss by mere virtue of finally getting to see Ta and Barcode kiss, but the expression on Non's face? The pink lighting? Phenomenal.

We really could've had it all. Rolling in the deep. 🥲

♡ Takashi x Hiro Claiming Kiss (Love is Better the Second Time Around)

A hickey may be the result, but every hickey begins life as a kiss. And this kiss was a symbol of Hiro's desire to feel like Takashi was really his, to not feel like an outsider in Takashi's life, and to be someone Takashi could share everything with.

♡ Huaien x Xiaobao Blinding Light of Love Kiss (Meet You at the Blossom)

Sometimes a good kiss is more than just a good kiss, which this was. Sometimes it's about what the kiss means to the people watching it. Sometimes it's about the fact that it exists and that people get to watch it at all.

♡ San x Vee Forehead Kiss (Century of Love)

This kiss was such a gentle, loving reassurance that Vee would take the lead and take care of San during their first time being intimate together.

♡ Myung Ha x Yeo Woon First Kiss (Love for Love's Sake)

So incredibly visually pleasing and also: "You're my first everything". My heart. My entire heart and soul. Has anything ever been as earnest as those words and this kiss?

♡ Ming x Joe Face Sniff Kisses (My Stand-In)

This is exactly the sort of tenderness Joe always deserved from the man he loved. Even though it took a thousand agonizing years for Ming to get his shit together and give it to him, better late than never. Plus, I always love when we get sniff kisses.

♡ Sun x Junior First Kiss (Caged Again)

What an absolutely perfect, absolutely lovely first kiss between two absolutely darling boys who are figuring out what it means to be in love with each other. I adored it.

♡ Yuan x Qian Dinner Date Kiss (Unknown)

It's the wine splashing that really makes this for me. Yuan waited years for this date and for the opportunity to yank the man he loved across a dinner table to kiss him. And I just love how he looks down at Qian's hand before he does it.

♡ Do Hoe x Ju Yeong Christmas Present Kiss (Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo)

It's Christmas and Do Hoe is smiling and kissing his boyfriend and everything is peaceful and romantic and horny and good.

♡ Jack x Joke We're About to Fucking Die Kiss (Jack & Joker)

There's a bomb around Joke's neck and bitch ass Alice is out here being Jigsaw, but damn if that's gonna keep Jack from staying by his boyfriend's side. If they're going down, they're going down together, making out in front of god and everyone.

♡ Anin x Pin Party Kiss (The Loyal Pin)

This kiss from the trailer was the one I was most excited to see and it didn't disappoint. It's pretty! It's horny! Anin is wine tipsy! Pin is jealous because other women were hitting on her girl all night! Perfection.

♡ Shan x Ob-aun Blindfold Kiss (Battle of the Writers)

Tutor and Yim kiss so pretty and this show spent its entire runtime reminding us of that fact. I could've chosen any of their kisses, which is true of many pairings on this list, but this one is particularly pretty. And you can see Yim's shoulder moles, which is a fun little treat just for me.

[inmyheaddd]

walkin out the door with your bags - grayson hawthorne x reader - part 9

⤷ ''i don't wanna be forward, i don't wanna cut corners // savor this with everything i have inside of me''

a/n: this took the longest ever to write omg!! im so sorry for the wait but i hope you enjoy ❥❥ also, hot by cigarettes after sex is literally their song i might sob 😭 summary: someone gives grayson a piece of advice, and grayson spends hours trying to decipher and make sense of it, just to find out the right answer was infront of him. series masterlist — other parts

flashback, 16 years old..

''this is highly dangerous, you know.'' grayson's voice was steady as he called out. he climbed right behind you anyway.

you were climbing up to the rooftop of your house on a very tall ladder. perhaps it wasn't the safest thing, but your parents had blocked all the staircases that led to the rooftop to stop you from going up there. you found ways around it, and they hadn't noticed the ladder yet.

''okay,'' you laughed, seeing your breath in the cold air. you looked back briefly to see his gaze trained on his feet below him as you both continued going up the ladder. ''i don't really care.''

''you should.'' he mumbled back, hint of sass in his voice. you weren't sure if he wanted you to hear that or not.

''please, you care enough for the both of us,'' you replied anyways, because you remembered everything about grayson was intentional. he was capable of being very silent when he wanted to.

two more steps, and you finally reached the top of the ladder and climbing onto the rooftop. you didn't struggle much, you came here every time the sky looked pretty, and in winter, that was pretty much every night. you exhaled as you sat, ''it evens things out.''

graysons eyebrows flashed up in agreement for a moment, not arguing on that.

he reached the top and climbed over with no struggle. he sat a few inches away from you, your gaze still trained on the sky ahead. you looked behind you, taking in the the whole sunset with its shades of bruised purple and little streaks of orange.

you pulled out a small thermos from your hoodies pocket.

well, it wasnt really a small thermos, it was... more of a larger flask that you had stole from your parents room because you needed something to keep your drink warm.

but what could you say? desperate times called for desperate measures.

grayson glanced at you, then away, then immediately did a double take again and eyed the object in your hand.

his expression reminded you of a teacher: a stern, disappointed, and confused expression all together. his nose crinkled slightly, and you almost laughed out loud.

''grayson,'' you laughed, ''it's hot chocolate... i couldn't find my thermos, relax.'' you understood where he was coming from, i mean, it was a flask, but you weren't a drinker.

he didn’t say anything, but his expression said it all. he stayed looking at you conspicuously and furrowed his brows slightly.

you laughed in disbelief, ''what? you want it?" you teased. when he simply looked at you with a disapproving brow raise, you gasped.

''grayson!" you brought a hand to your chest, ''you seriously think that low of me?" you laughed and leaned closer, waving the thermos dramatically in his face. “look! see? it’s hot chocolate!”

he leaned back, avoiding the container, his lips twitching like he was fighting off a smile.

“no, no,” you teased, moving the thermos side to side in his face as he tilted his head away. “you’re going to see for yourself.”

“stop,” he muttered, his voice still calm but laced with humor.

“look!” you insisted, waving it closer.

finally, he reached out, his hand carefully covering yours to still your movements. “alright,” he said, twinges of laughter in his voice. “i understand. it’s hot chocolate.”

his hand lingered for a second longer, and your eyecontact remained, before graysons eyes flickers across your face and his hand went back to its side.

''its a tuesday evening. and i'm on a rooftop.'' you sighed as you took a sip of your hot chocolate just to prove it even further, ''i'm not that reckless.''

you screwed the lid back on and put it back in your pocket, then you covered your hands with your sleeves in an attempt to fight off the cold.

''you think you're reckless? you should see my brother.'' grayson muttered, half to himself and half to you, but there was a softness in his voice.

you set your hand back down, and only then realised just how close it was to graysons. your fingertips were a hairbreadth away.

you felt like you physically couldn't pull your hand away, and even if you did could move, it would just make things awkward.

you remembered you had to respond to grayson's statement somehow. ''jameson practically invented dangerousness and recklessness and bad decisions. he doesn't count.'' you shot back jokingly as you looked at grayson.

he huffed a chuckle, looking at his lap and shaking his head slightly. surely he must've felt your hand right next to his.

your fingers twitched slightly. you could feel the tiny movements coming from his own hand- whatever you were thinking right now, he was clearly thinking the same thing.

you were acutely aware of the closeness of his hand to yours. your gaze stayed straight ahead. you didn't dare look at your hands.

your fingers inched a little closer to his. you heard your heartbeat in your chest.

the cold didn't seem like a problem any more, and you felt his callused fingertips run over the back of your hand. then your pinky interlocked with his.

it was a simple action, but it was near impossible to ignore the way it fuelled the part of your brain that screamed 'you like grayson!'

you stared down at your intertwined hands, you knew grayson did too, but neither of you said anything. he swallowed thickly and simply brought up a story of his brothers being 'truly reckless,' and how you seem like the furthest thing from it.

soon enough, the minutes turned to hours, and you discussed everything with grayson.

from the way school had been, plans you had for the winter, if you wanted to come to true north with him and his brothers for a few days (you said yes), stories he had from true north, and sharing horror stories of ski trips.

the conversation naturally began to lull. not in a bad way, but in a comforting way. you scooted a little closer to grayson with your hands still intertwined.

you looked up at the glittering sky, ''you know, i feel really bad for you right know.

''why?'' grayson looked at you,

''because you're not wearing your glasses, and you can't see the moon tonight.'' you responded simply, glancing at him for a second before looking back at the sky. ''it's really pretty.''

grayson took his gaze to the sky, and you were right, he couldn't really see it. he could just about see the shape of it, but that was it.

he took his gaze back to you, watching you admire the moon. ''i'm sure it is.''

you hummed a little in agreement, dangling your feet back and forth over the edge. a gush of freezing cold wind suddenly rushed past the two of you, and the way you physically shuddered made you both laugh.

''god,'' you chuckled, ''i should've worn a coat or something. i didn't know it would be so cold.''

grayson nodded, '''we are quite high up, naturally, its going to be colder up here,'' he gestured to the ground below. everything looked so small from all the way up here. that was partly why you loved it.

you had a hoodie on, but grayson held his arm open anyway and invited you in. you felt 10x warmer when he enveloped you into a side hug, but surely that was because of the cashmere sweater he wore, and not him.

''grayson?'' you hummed, your head on his shoulder.

''yes?''

''you know, um thanks for always being here,'' you muttered, feeling his fingers trace patterns on your arm , ''even when i'm irrational and i'm messy and I annoy you.''

he was silent for a moment, and you were tempted to look up so you could get a read on his face. ''you could never annoy me.''

you could practically feel his voices' vibrations, and his tone was soft. different from the way he usually talks with others- stern, assertive. but he wasn't that way with you.

''but i'm irrational and messy.'' you insisted.

his hand began to slowly run up and down your arm, soothing your nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. ''those aren't bad things.'' he told you. ''not when its you, at least.''

you stared at his hand interlinked with yours. not when its me? what does that mean? you thought.

you opened your mouth, just about to respond when— slam.

you and grayson jolted out of each others touch. your heart was beating crazily fast.

''holy shit,'' you put a hand on your chest, catching your breath as you and grayson caught eachothers gaze and laughed out of relief.

you quickly realised you had missed being in his arms, but you just couldn't return to a moment like that. a part of you wonders if it even happened, it felt so fleeting.

you nervously laughed, tucking your hair behind your ears before you carefully peered down over the edge to where you heard the noise.

you didn't feel any better or less frightened, though. the scene below you was your mom storming out the car, dressed like she had just gotten back from an event. you quite couldn't make out her words, and her pace was as fast as ever. even from afar, her posture looked rigid and her neck looked strained, like she was holding back tears or screams.

your dad got out of the car right after, slamming his side of the door too and shaking his head to himself as he tried to catch up to your mom. his hands were out like he was pleading or reasoning, and his expression was something dark that you didn't like.

grayson followed your gaze, seeing the scene you were looking at. he hadn't realised he was smiling a little until he felt his face drop.

grayson looked back at you, but it was hard to tear your gaze away from the scene, even when this scene was something you saw quite frequently. you tried to hone into your eavesdropping skills to hear what they were arguing about this time, but you were simply too far.

you name fell from his lips, and he repeated it twice when you didn’t answer. then finally asked, “are you alright?”

you didn't look straight at him, but he saw your expression. and he saw the way your fingers curled into a fist. you chewed on your bottom lip and blinked rapidly, then untucked your hair from behind your ears so it shielded your face.

he felt his heart drop. he had never seen you cry before.

you always acted as if nothing bothered you, and when it was obvious that something did, you hid it.

for a terrible moment, he worried that he wouldn't know what to do, that he'd somehow make things worse, but he simply let his actions come naturally.

he silently wished that this would be the last time he’d see you cry, he wished he could keep you happy forever.  

you seemed to finally realise he was still looking at you, and you sat up straight.

''sorry— i’m sorry.'' you mumbled as you quickly wiped at your eyes with the back of your hands. ''oh my god,'' you let out a chuckle, like it would make him forget the tears. ''that was so embarrassing, i'm literally fine. i don't know what that was.''

grayson watched you try and regain a sense of normalcy, ''its not embarrassing to feel,'' he told you.

he knew that was highly hypocritical of him to say that, considering the way he acted, but he would truly sit with you for hours listening to you talk about your feelings. for days, until the end of time, even.

he'd always be there for you, and he wished you would believe him when he said it. ''would you,” he trailed off, gaze flickering between your features, “would you like to talk about it?”

he knew the answer was likely going to be no, because he knew you, but he wanted to let you know that he’d be there for you always, if you suddenly decided you did want to talk.

you were silent for a moment, and every second of it, with every shuddering breath you took, he felt a stronger urge to be the one who wiped your tears, the one who held you. he watched you tentatively, concern written all over his face.

he recently felt like his feelings were blurring over the lines of them being simply friendly.

“actually,'' you sniffled a little, ''can we not talk about it?” you said, just like he had suspected.

you felt him nod, and said no more after that. he wouldn't push you. he knew when it was right to be persistent, and when to simply stay silent.

you took a deep breath. ''i'm feeling even more messy and irrational right now,'' you tried to lighten the mood with another laugh, but it just sounded sad. ''i don't know why i got like that, i mean, its not even that bad, compared to others.''

graysons brows knitted together. ''it doesn't matter what its like compared to others.'' he told you, his voice steady while yours wavered.

you finally raised your head from his shoulder ever so slowly and looked at him. your expression was unfamiliar. it was pained.

his gaze flickered between your eyes. he found himself speaking once again.

''i don't care about the others, i care about you.'' he squeezed your hand slightly, ''you should care about you, too.''

present...

grayson was oddly exhausted. he doubted that has anything to do with the fact that he had slept at 2 in the morning, though. the first thing he did was take a cold shower, but even that didn't help.

he didn't like to have caffeine so early on an empty stomach, but it seemed like he had no choice.

''good morning.'' he nodded curtly at gigi who was leaning on the counter, making his way to the coffee machine.

she was looking at him strangely, but that wasn't a rare occurrence, so he paid it no mind. grayson took a mug out of the cabinet, then he heard gigi clear her throat from behind him. he raised a brow to himself, still looking down at his cup.

then he finally realised- gigi was in his house.

he turned around swiftly, cup still in his hand as his eyes glazed over gigi suspiciously.

''you're in my house.'' he pointed out blankly, and gigi rolled her eyes.

''why are you in my house?'' grayson ordered. now, he was definitely shaken out of his previous stupor.

''you know, you're a real idiot, grayson.'' that was not a good morning, or an answer to his question.

''excuse me?'' he put his cup down on the counter he was standing behind. he was confused why gigi was in his kitchen to begin with, much less calling him an idiot at the ripe hour of 6 in the morning as he tried to make his black coffee.

''listen,'' gigi put on a stern face and hopped on the counter, but it was difficult to take her seriously with her bed head and ever so slightly puffy face, clearly having just woken up. how could grayson possibly not hear her come in?

''im gonna cut straight to the point.'' she started, and Grayson was glad she said that, because he was not in the mood for anything else but an explanation. ''I'm here because you did something. ever since about 3 days ago when you visited she’s been acting all weird. she won’t tell me what’s wrong, but i know something’s up with her. and i know it has something to do with you.'

she didn’t even have to say your name, there was only one her when it came to grayson. ever since that day where you came up to him so many years ago, asking him why he sat alone. there was always one her. you.

a heavy weight settled over his chest. “what makes you think i visited?” he forced himself out of his thoughts and asked, not confirming he did visit you, but not fully denying it either.

gigi rolled her eyes like it was obvious before she stole a grape from the fruit basket on the counter she sat on top of. “she won't tell me anything, did her whole control freak routine. i woke up the next morning with the whole living room redone, her room layout completely changed, and every surface literally polished and sparkling. she doesn’t just do that for no reason. for anyone.”

gigi tried to sound unbothered about the topic when she spoke, but the way she fiddled with her hands gave it away to grayson. it was obvious though, no one would like to talk about how their best friend was hurting. just as much as no one would like to hear about it, and know they caused it.

could he even call you his best friend anymore? he had never said it outright to you, but he suddenly wished he had told you how much he appreciated you every second he had the chance.

“you must've messed up bad, gray.” 

grayson averted his gaze. suddenly the fruits looked extremely interesting.

he couldn’t take back the horrible actions he made, the ways he tried to cope, the way he tried to silence his fears. they were done, they were his fault. that didn’t stop him from regretting them every single moment of his days. but even then, he still somehow seemed to be making the wrong choices. 

“I suppose you wouldn't be able to give me any advice on what to do?'' he asked rhetorically, his voice carrying too much emotion than he would like. he sat up straight in his chair and cleared his throat. 

grayson never asked for advice. he never asked for help. he did everything alone.

and look where that got him.

“hey, i'd give advice to you any time you need it!,'' gigi said half jokingly, tucked her hair behind both of her ears, her voice carried a weight that revealed that she could tell just how grayson was feeling.

''listen, i’d like to be super cool and mysterious, and give you some vague advice like ‘do whatever your heart tells you,’ or, ‘the right choices will find you,’'' gigi said, putting on a deep voice and making quotation marks with her fingers. ''but you somehow manage to always make the worst decisions ever. without fail.” her voice was back to normal, raising her eyebrows and pointing at him.

even he knew she was right. 

“you’ve messed up way too much, and i don’t want you hurting my best friend any further, so i’ll give you this:” gigi continued, and grayson realized she wasn’t doing this for him, she was doing it for you. then, another thought that he been trying to avoid came up again: he hurt you much more than he had realised. 

“talk to her. and stay. you know her better than anyone, why on gods green earth would you believe that when she said she’s ‘fine’ or that ‘she doesn’t care’ that she was seriously saying the truth?” gigis expression turned sour as she furrowed her brows, like the topic annoyed her to even speak about. 

believe me, grayson thought, however aggravated you are about this, i’m infinitely more aggravated with myself. 

“you’re annoyingly persistent sometimes, so make some good use out of it.” gigi said, “i’m not going to tell you the things she’s told me exactly, but, you must’ve been a real idiot to just stand there and nod when she tells you that a kiss you shared was a mistake.”

grayson wasn’t surprised gigi knew all of that. grayson figured that was all he would get from gigi, but he selfishly found himself wanting to know more about how you were feeling. he was grasping for anything. you had both seemingly cleared up the air, decided you were 'friends' again and nothing more, but you hadn't even talked since.

usually, in a time back when things were as perfect as they could’ve been, you would’ve been telling him first hand. now, he had to find out about how you felt because of him by his half sister. 

it would never go back to the way it was. grayson could only hope to make it better than before.

he was no stranger to saying something, and meaning, truly longing for something completely different, so he didn't blame you for not

he wonders what he did wrong this time.

the girl, ella.

he was told it would be a good pr move on his end. he hadn’t been seen in the media for a while— which was how he liked it— but his team argued it would be good for him to resurface before the additions to the charities, to get more press. 

he would’ve simply said no. it would've been final, and his team wouldve never brought tbut the girl, ella, was what ended up convincing him. she was trying to hide her relationship with a co star of hers, another girl grayson couldn’t quite remember the name of.

all he remembered was being told ella was being bombarded with rumors, and she needed to out a stop to them before the second season of her show premiered. she was severely distressed—it was her first show, and she herself hadn't even come out to the public yet.

so he agreed. it went on for 2 weeks until there was enough social media posts and tabloids posted of them two.

he thought about the way your voice wavered when he went over to talk, the way you eyed him silently, the way your body language contradicted your words. you were silently angry at him, but you stayed friendly. he didn't have to solve anything to figure that one out.

he could always understand you even when you didn't have the right words to say it yourself, or when you simply didn't want to. a picture played in his mind— one of him nodding his head with an arm around your shoulders, offering comfort silently when you mumbled ''actually, can we not talk about it?" into his chest quietly. he remembered how his heart ached.

you had both mastered the language that had been created and growing between you since the day you met. now, he still knew it, but he had nowhere to even put it to use. he doubts he could ever truly forget it, though.

grayson realised too late how horrible of an image the ella debacle must've painted in your eyes. it was possibly the worst choice he had ever made. right after the days he went not speaking to you, and the times he didn't stay. 

he hated himself for the decisions he made, and gigi should've hated him too.

''why are you here, telling me this?'' grayson finally said. he was aware that his eyes were instinctively narrowed suspiciously, but he couldn't help it. gigi looked at him sympathetically.

''because, unfortunately, you guys are too stubborn and stupid to see what's clearly right infront of you.'' she said simply with a dramatic sigh. ''and you need me— the super-smart-all-seeing-gigi, to help the process along a little. and, despite the way you've been acting, you're my brother,'' her voice softened, ''and i don't like seeing you sad.''

he didn't even deny he was sad. there was no point. he contemplated asking more, brows furrowed as he looked at the counter infront of him, hands gripping the edges tightly. but he stayed silent instead, replaying gigi's words and trying to make more sense of them.

''...well, if that's all,'' she said, breaking the silence. ''i've got to go, i have a flight to catch.'' that explained why she was awake at 6 in the morning.

''where are you going?'' his grey eyes narrowed once again, this time, he was acutely aware of it.

''none of your business.'' she taunted, slipping right back into their sibling banter. ''well, actually—'' a smile stretched across her face despite her efforts, ''its noah, i don't know if you even remember him, but, he's taking me on a trip.'' she blurted, clearly too happy about that fact to remember that she was supposed to be holding a grudge against grayson. ''but— not that its any of your business, of course.''

grayson nodded. a part of him was hurt that gigi doubted he'd remember someone significant to her, but his mind went to a different place before he could dwell on that fact any longer.

he remembered one of the conversations he had with you, on the night you kissed.

''we know eachother. i trust you more than most.'' he once told you, remembering the way your eyes looked into his and the way they glinted when he finished his sentence. he remembered wanting to smile at that.

''yeah, and gigi knows noah. you should be able to trust her with her choices.''

“is she truly happy?”

“yeah, gray, she really is happy.”

he cleared his throat and brought himself back to the present moment. he wouldn't focus on the past right infront of someone, he couldn't, it simply hurt too much. ''right.'' he said coldly, ''of course. have a safe flight, gigi.''

she smiled awkwardly and got up from the counter. she took an apple with her, and gave him one last look, one that made graysons heart twist.

''why did you have to ruin this?'' her eyes seemed to say. ''you're my brother. she's my best friend. why are you making me choose?"

grayson wished he had a response. instead, he just watched her walk off with his brows knitted slightly.

he exhaled a long breath once gigi left, his elbows on the counter as his head fell into his hands. he raked both hands through his hair, roughly, not like the way you would. he shook before he abruptly stood up.

so many feelings, yet he couldn't articulate a single one properly.

there was one that seemed clearer than the rest. he hated himself--for ruining things for and hurting you when all he wanted was to protect you.

he let out a low, bitter laugh to himself.

some protector he was.

he did the one thing he always did when he needed to think clearer, to have control over something when all else seemed to be wrong and disorderly.

he made his way outside, grabbed a towel, and went for the pool.

the water was icy against his skin, but he welcomed it. he pushed off the edge and began swimming laps, each stroke more forceful than the last.

the tension in his chest didn’t lessen—it grew, tightening with every thought of you.

he swam faster, rougher, but not deviating on his strict rigid form. he couldn't. 'you need to talk to her. and stay,' gigis words played out in his head.

should he reach out again? what if you get annoyed? what if you're sick of him?

he knew you must've been somewhat sad, judging by the fact that gigi came to him, but what if you were more angry? what if gigi read it wrong, and you really wanted nothing to do with him?

the only reason he doubted the last one was because gigi knew you better than anyone. she couldn't have read whatever you were feeling wrong. whatever she saw, she felt the resolution was for you two to fully see it out to the end. to 'talk and stay' with each other.

'you're grayson davenport hawthorne, you don't worry about what ifs.' he reminded himself. what would his grandfather say? much worse, he had no doubt.

besides, you were his best friend. doing something would be better than doing nothing and let the friendship and possibility of more slowly fade, then disappear.

he swam and swam, and ran through all the possible outcomes in his mind. he did this until his arms burned and his lungs begged for air. it still wasn’t enough, though.

grayson pushed through the pain, through the ache in his muscles, until he couldn’t anymore. gasping for breath, he finally stopped and hung onto the edge of the pool, his head tilted forward as water dripped down his face.

his chest was heaving, and the pain he had felt was finally all crashing down. it was easier to ignore when he was moving. he clenched his jaw with his grip on the pool’s edge tightening. he didn't feel any better. he didn't feel like he had any more control over his life.

he was an idiot. an idiot who was still drowning, even now, on dry land.

he pushed himself up and out of the pool, his brows furrowed frustradely and muscles taught as he dried off.

he wouldn't let himself mope around any longer.

his hair was still slightly wet as he sat at his office desk. he had taken another shower, this time, it was steaming hot.

his eyes kept flickering to his phone as he worked on his laptop. he found himself wanting to reach out and call you.

no, he needed to plan it better. he couldn't just expect you to answer and for you to listen to him.

but- wasn't how the problems arose in the first place? waiting for the perfect moment that never came?

it was that way years ago, it was that way a few weeks ago, and it seemed like it was about to be that way again.

he closed his eyes for a brief moment. focus. then he got back to work.

still, despite his efforts, he couldn't focus. his mind was in an entirely different place. he read over an email before he pressed send.

how did he manage to mistype no as know?

he stared at the powered off phone laying on his desk once again.

the last time he had texted you, every single one of his brothers had pushed him to.

now, he was utterly alone in his office. his brothers were all out of the house, and his black out curtains kept his room dark, except for the low orange lamps you had forced him to put in there 'to make it look less robotic'.

his eyes flickered to his phone one more time, and he finally retracted his hand from his laptops keyboard.

he turned on his phone, and from then on it was muscle memory, the one thing he would do whenever he was feeling lost. whenever he needed clarity in his peculiar life of his.

he called you.

the phone rang, his thumb hesitated over the red cancel button, but he couldn't. he'd look like even more of a coward.

he was still unblocked, and despite not speaking to each other for so long, you picked up.

''hello?''

his heart beat faster than it did when he swam. ''hey, its grayson.''

you were silent for a second, ''I know.''

you phrased it like a question, almost.

''i apologise for the abrupt call, but, there seems to be a gap in my life where our daily phone calls once were, and to be frank, i missed them.'' he said it straight forward. he prayed that gigi's advice was right. he started the talk part, now he needed to stay. ''how have you been?''

“uh,” you laughed slightly on the other line, and grayson found himself missing the jokes you’d make that he’d call terrible, the nonsensical rants, or the way you’d beg to pick the movie to watch every single without fail on those movie nights you’d hold every friday. the one time he picked, it was the night you kissed. the night where everything changed, and grayson couldn’t tell if it was for the better or worse. 

''well, I just broke my glasses, for one.'' you replied, ''like, literally two seconds ago.'' he heard the laugh in your voice, like the reasoning behind it was funny. but you didn't tell him the the story behind it.

you stayed silent, and that was one of the major tells things weren't how they used to be. stay, he reminded himself.

you were the type of person that when he'd ask about your day, you'd talk about every single detail, down to the tiniest things like your losing your favourite pen or tripping over a rock on your morning walk.

he didn't realise he could miss something so much.

''so uh,'' you cut into his thoughts with a small laugh that he could tell was out of nervousness. ''i need to go fix that. but other than that, i'm pretty good.'' grayson nodded, even though you couldn't see him.

''shame about your glasses, those frames did really suit you.'' he let the words escape his lips before he could think twice.

''thanks, but, they are long gone, for now, at least.'' you said. ''besides, them breaking now gives me an excuse to wear contacts. looking on the bright side.. but uh, enough of me, how are you?

grayson leaned back in his chair, ''ive been alright. however, i've been thinking,'' he began, ''i know we've sorted things out since i last saw you, but we haven't talked much, and i think it would be quite nice for us to see each other some time.''

''oh,'' your voice was quiet on the other end, and grayson sat back up straight again. ''yeah- yeah, sure. i was actually thinking about that earlier today. but i didn't really know how to talk to you, so, I'm glad you said something.''

gigi's advice was right.

'didn't really know how to talk to you.' that part made graysons chest hurt strangely, like he was back in the pool.

''what an odd coincidence,'' he responded simply.

you hummed before you spoke, your voice was quiet on the other line. ''I thought you didn't believe in coincidences.''

he was silent.

''sorry,'' you chuckled, ''I don't know why I said that, it just popped up in my mind- you used to say it all the time, and... yeah.''

''don't apologise, you haven't done anything wrong. youre right, I usually don't.''

''what changed?''

the response in his mind was instant: he met you.

''strangely enough, i'm not too sure.''

he heard you snort from the line, ''well, isn't that a first?'' you muttered, not giving him a chance to respond before you started again. ''um, gigi actually left for the airport this morning, so i'm incredibly bored right now.''

''would you like to organise something for today, then?''

you laughed again, ''is that your weird way of asking me if i want to hang out today?"

''you know i've never been particularly skilled in these areas.''

''oh boy, i know.'' you exhaled, ''well, i'll be heading to the park at like, 12, so...'' you trailed off, and he heard a slight smile in your voice. he wished he was seeing it, instead. ''if someone happened to, you know, coincidentally be there, i wouldn't necessarily turn and run away.''

he couldn't stop his own grin, though he knew he shouldn't feel too happy just yet. ''is that your strange way of telling me to meet you at the park at noon?''

''yes,'' you didn't miss a beat, ''it is.''

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm @goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington @peppapigsposts @thoughtdaughter3 @cant-see-sam

[gladiatorcunt]

- FEARS TO FATHOM | XIV.

i can thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try

cw: kinktober prompt (roleplay), fem reader, early criminal minds, background hotch x reader x spencer (age gap, reader and spencer in their early-mid 20’s), knifeplay, degradation, murder fantasies, necrophilia fantasies, snuff films mention, blood play mentions, part of the roleplay is that hotch is your daddy (open to interpretation on the exact meaning), one mention of sadomasochism, knife (handle) fucking, dead dove do not eat, under negotiated kink but hints of you and spencer being secretly disturbed freaks, spencer referred to as ghostface for most of the fic, one face slap, fantasy fulfillment (bc spencer is a soft dom TO ME), off screen recording

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“Spence, come on, I’m gonna fall asleep by the time you get ready.” You shout at the closed bathroom door, if only to stave off your own nerves and lingering excitement.

The beginning of October was a snooze fest, you, Spencer, and Aaron had so much work, back to back cases that ran longer than anyone thought. Elle couldn’t stop ranting to you, and you to her, about how fucking aggravating things have been. None of you could even afford to make lazy plans for Halloween, the office already minimally decorated with tiny plastic pumpkins and purple-green-orange streamers here and there.

Until the angels granted you mercy, Aaron bargained some time off for the rest of the team in exchange for him spending hours eye level deep in paperwork.

You and Spencer each gave him a brisk but heartfelt thank you kiss before you headed home, to the house owned by a man who wouldn’t be accompanying his partners tonight.

Spencer calls back to you in between awkward bangs of his knees against the wall, shuffling his work clothes off and getting into the costume. “Just a second, you’d think you’d appreciate the lenghts i’m willing to go for you.”

You definitely do when after some more bumbling about he comes out in the ghostface costume, his gangly body in the long black fabric, holding the mask in his hand. Because of course you can’t do a more normal boss and secretary type situation, no, you have to have your boyfriend dress up like a horror movie serial killer, one of your favorites, and act like he’s gonna do the same to you.

You also wanted to see Spencer let go a little bit, be darker in ways your toes curl thinking about, Aaron was the one that bought the costume anyway. You were too shy to do anything beyond mentioning off handedly that it would be hot, and Spencer wanted you to squirm.

“Aaron waited 45 minutes for the employees at Spirit Halloween to find one in the back because they were sold out. The least we do is put it to good use since we’ll be working on the actual day.”

Your cold feet turn freezing, “This is so stupid and weird, we can just lie when he comes back and say we used it-”

Now here you are, breath caught in your chest as you gaze up at the handsome looming figure, Spencer huffs out a laugh at your shyness and flicks the hood up. He puts the mask on and fastens it around his head, now nothing but his gait and his voice signify the man behind the mask being your boyfriend. You can almost see his amused small smile, the knife he swiped from the kitchen block taps a tune along your jawbone, humming a note on every point of contact.

Your eyes flutter shut, setting the scene and dimming the lights, a cold and black gloved hand shoves you back onto the bed, pushing you right into the deep end.

“Please, I- I’ll do anything, I don’t wanna die, sir.” Your voice actually cracks on the tail end of your sentence, putting your all in your amateur-porn-without-a-camera performance.

“Shh.” Ghostface whispers but it’s jagged with long held back arousal, “You’re not going to die yet if you give me something for my trouble. You let me waltz right in just because Daddy’s not home, and now I'm supposed to pass up a pretty little lying whore like you?”

You whimper, “I’m not a whore, I just- He doesn’t have to know, please, I’ll do whatever you want, I swear.”

“Oh so you admit you were lying to him? How do you think he’s gonna feel when he comes home to see his precious baby’s guts spilled all over the bed she wanted her secret boyfriend to fuck her in. You were so giggly when you told me it was his.” He cocks his head to the side, teeth no doubt gleaming white under the mask. “What’s wrong, sugarplum? Not so proud of being a slut anymore?”

“Spread your legs, I have the perfect game in mind. Your pussy can’t lie like your mouth can, and I have just the thing she wants.”

You tremble, letting tears gather in your eyes so you really look afraid for your life. You sink into the mattress, your upper inner thighs glisten with your juices, already wet and he hasn’t thrust his knife inside of you let alone his cock. Your head says you should just lie there and feel the overhead fan blow gently on your exposed pussy but your clit wants to scream at Ghostface to go in blade first.

“See, look.” He taunts, parting your folds with the chilly tip of his knife, “She’s co cute, glistening and puffy, she’d look so good being fucked on the hilt of my knife, don’t you think?”

It’s not quite what you want but you nod, letting your legs go lax so he can get a proper look at your juicy cunt. He hums in approval, the soft sound raises your hackles and causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up.

He slaps the tip of the blade against your clit, and it’s the miracle that you weren’t cut that has you pleading up at him with your eyes. To pretty please at least thrust the hilt in so you can feel like you’re getting stabbed on something, Ghostface tilts his head again, his long body bending to the side, considering giving you what you want.

But wasn’t the point of this whole charade to turn you into a whiny bitch who’d risk her life for a serial killer’s knife, lusting after it possibly more than his actual cock?

“Oh, fine. I guess we’d better be quick if we don’t want your daddy to drop in on us too soon, I'd hate to have to gut him too, baby.” There’s a false hint of concern, you can picture a slight pout under the mask, his fingers tighten around the handle.

You eagerly scramble back on the bed, and Ghostface follows after you. His knees sink into the mattress on either side of your hips, one gloved hand shooting out to steady himself by your head and the other keeping a firm grip on his knife. He makes sure you can always see it, not because you actually need a reminder of the threat your (and your daddy’s by association) life is in, but because it entices you into being good.

Not that he’d mind a brat, but he doesn’t have the time today to break you apart piece by piece. He waves the knife in front of you, dangling a carrot in front of his dumb bunny, and reaches down under his cloak to unbuckle his belt.

“Aw, you perked up as soon as I started fiddling with my belt buckle, huh buttercup? Don’t get too excited, that little heart might burst and we haven’t even been able to watch any scary movies together yet.” Ghostface teases, shuffling back so his pants can fall to the floor.

You weren’t touching yet, but you still whine. His eyes must be crinkling under the mask because he giggles and climbs back up your body to hover above your face. He boops the tip of your nose with his knife, the edge gently scrapes against your chubby cheek and your jawline as he drags it along the contours of your face. Mapping it out so he knows which cuts to make without making you too ugly, as long as your holes can tighten enough to hug something, he doesn’t mind.

“Are you scared? Aw, I hope so, it’s only gonna make you tighter, you might even bleed without me having to give you a single cut.” He laughs when you pout at that, dragging the tip of his blade under your shirt before cutting it off and doing the same to your bra, a lacey thing you may or may not have bought specifically for this occasion. Blood red and now in tatters on your daddy’s bedroom floor, hopefully you can pick it up later before he comes home if you’re still alive.

“Mmh, don’t hurt me, please, I’m doing what you want aren’t I? I’m being good for you, that’s all I want, just wanna be good for you so fuckin’ bad.” You plead, gasping as he cuts away your mini skirt too.

And you do, it’s why you want your boyfriend to let go and carve you up as if all you’re good for is to be a monument to how much you adore him. You love him like this, slipping into the role of a guiltless killer who just might snuff the life out of you no matter how stellar your pussy game is, and you’ll love him afterwards when he needs round 3 (because you want one round with him in your pussy and one in your ass) to be gentle and sweet, his hung skinny boy cock stealing the breath out of you even when his strokes are languid and honey fueled.

“I know you do, I wouldn’t be giving you a chance to live otherwise, you whore. You’re just a sweet girl who got tripped up as soon as it was looking like you were gonna get dick, right? Doesn’t matter what happens after, don’t sweat it, you’re gonna get everything you want.”

You mewl, and your eyes flutter shut as he pushes your clothes off of your body. His knife’s blade shocks you a little when he drags it along your skin, making a path towards your dripping pussy. Your clit throbs in anticipation, Ghostface’s cloak shifts as his shoulders slightly shake from laughter.

“Greedy girl, I'm gonna put it in okay? Feel free to cry and scream all you want, I'd prefer it actually.” Is all the warning you get before he positions the black knife handle in front of your pussy, and starts pushing it in.

You whine at the stretch, and he doesn’t give you any time to adjust beyond that, slamming it in until the blade is just outside your hole. He grunts in pain, wrapping his hand around the sharp edges, his gloves are too thick for his skin to be sliced through, but you notice his cock twitch under his cloak.

You gush around the hilt of the knife, feeling too dizzy to look down at where it disappears into your body. It doesn’t do anything but split you in two, there’s no special spot it hits and the smooth bumpy ridges are too slight to provide any stimulation. It’s the brutality of the act that turns you on, a masked man looming above you as he plunges his knife into you, stabbing you from the inside.

The blade makes itself known every so often, poking your folds, imitations of sharp pecks as Ghostface thrusts the hilt inside your sopping wet pussy. The mess on your daddy’s sheets takes on more fluid, growing into a small puddle, you’re so embarrassed and your heart is beating faster than a hummingbirds as you stare up into the eyes of his mask. Black sinkholes surrounded by bright white, elongated and macabre, you clench around the handle. This could be the last sight you ever see, a ghostly specter getting off on desecrating your body and settling you on fire with your own shame.

You drool at his long fingers, curled so tightly around the blade, he must be in tremendous pain. Your clit jumps, listening for muffled pained groans held behind clenched teeth. It’s not your own suffering that gets you going apparently, this deranged man’s desperation to make you cum from being hurt that he ends up getting off on hurting himself is all you care about. Your daddy would forgive you, you just couldn’t help sniffing after a big soon to be bloody cock, maybe if you’re left alone afterwards he can put you back together. Kiss your wounds and gently guide you through a soft orgasm, a pink frothy ring permanently tied around the base of his cock.

“Is this knife a good enough dildo for you?” Ghostface sneers, he can tell that you’ve started to drift off, getting so caught up in the moment you can’t even be present enough to ride it out. “This pussy’s so tight I can't fit anymore of it in, guess you’ve been a good whore, I’m sorry I can't cut up your insides, carve them up like my special little pumpkin. Round and sweet and so fucking easy to squash into gooey pulp.”

You whimper and rock your hips down, desperate for the blade to somehow slip inside and absolutely mess you up. You want to bleed out around his cock and stare up into the eyes of his mask as you shatter around him, sharing the experience of cumming together while the light leaves your eyes. You don’t even know what he’d do, if he’d pull out right away and leave a sea of blood and other bodily fluids surrounding your corpse, if he’d snap a pic or two before sauntering right out the front door, whistling an old timey love song as he runs through his options for what to watch when he gets home.

Or maybe he’d stay, jostle his softening cock inside of you, softly bouncing your cooling body until it becomes too stiff. If he’d tear up just a little behind the mask and brush the gaping long oval shaped mouth over the lips on your face, your first kiss, only in death. He’d die someday and pull you down to hell so he can tell you his name and do this all over again, kissing the sweat off your philtrum and huffing the sulfur and brimstone from your bush.

“That’s it, clench on my knife handle, I know that’s what you’re after, but you’re still drooling… don’t tell me you want my cock now? We were just getting started…”

“I- I want your cock, so bad please, I wanna cum on it, wanna make you feel so good you’ll come back to finish me off later.” You beg and play with your tits, rolling your nipples in between your fingers so you’ll be even wetter.

You want it to be amazing for him, to be enveloped in so much liquid he’d only have to close his eyes and imagine it was your blood. You hear a groan coming from above you and you smile, “It’ll be so good, you can keep pretending you’ve killed me so we can do this again and again and again and again. I can be your perfect murder victim, a toy that never breaks for good, your cumsock. Please, Mr. Ghostface, we can even make a movie together if you want.”

Amateur porn, snuff, erotic-sleazy-trashy slasher gore porn, cheap horror, you’d do it all.

“God, you really are such a freaking freak. I thought I told you I wouldn't make a decision until I've ruined every one of your holes for anybody else. I guess this can be your audition, you wanna be my little star so bad then you can prove that you can handle what that’s really gonna be like. Gonna rough you up and leave you scraped raw, bully this pussy with my dick and choke you out when it’s time for bed.”

Your clit throbs painfully, and you almost cum on the now uncomfortable chafing material of his knife’s handle when he abruptly yanks it out, leaving your hole hungry and empty. More wetness dribbles out, some of it falling right on the black hilt and into the grooves, staining it in a way, you hope he sniffs it and jerks off while he kills some less lucky girl later.

He drops the knife right by your hip, and you wince as it knicks you. Ghostface braces himself on either side of your head and reaches down to ruck up his cloak, clumsily unbuttoning his pants with one hand and freeing his rock hard cock. You don’t get to marvel at it, to live with the knowledge that you know what the infamous serial killer terrorizing your town’s penis looks like. He doesn’t allow you any prep time now either, you’re not empty for long before he’s impatiently thrusting his bare cock in your puffy pussy.

It makes the most sickening squelch when his balls swing to hit your ass, like an organ you forgot existed just burst.

He gets so excited that he smacks you clean across the face, panting like a rabid dog mounting his prey.

“Fuck, virgins have the best pussies. Does this hurt, my fat fucking dick breaking you down into nothing? You look like you’re gonna cry, baby, it’s okay. You’ll like it soon, or not, this isn’t about what you want anyway, right? This is what you wanted, opening the door for a stranger only to get destroyed by his raw cock in your daddy’s bed.”

You’re still reeling from the slap but you have enough sense to nod, sobbing as his thrusts become harsher, sending you up the bed and spreading the burn of his length forcing itself to fit all throughout your abused body.

The smell of sex is going to take forever to come out, seeping through the walls and into the foundations of the house, an invisible scarlet letter for his future starlet.

Spencer’s phone beeps hours later, once, then twice, then a few more times before it falls silent.

I let you play without me this one time, don’t forget that.

Make sure to bring her room temperature water. Cold water gives her headaches. Two painkillers, not four unless she asks, she gets dizzy otherwise.

Take a shower if you’re feeling up to it, she’ll get fussy if she’s sticky and you’ll get fussy if she’s fussy.

Send me the video, last one on this floor of the bulding by now. Gideon went home an hour ago. I want pictures of you in the costume too.

Love you both, I’ll do my best to be home sometime tomorrow. No cockwarming if she’s too fucked out, just slip a plug in. You know her favorites, don’t get smug if she picks the pink heart shaped one again.

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 6: Silver linings

genre: FINALLY JUST SOME PURE COMFORT FLUFFFFF

word count: 6151

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: weeks pass you by without much happening and you need to remind yourself: you believe in silver linings.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

author's note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEE! It took me so long to feel like they were ready for this but oh my god, the wait was so worth itttttt! what are you excited about with this chapter? Let me know in the comments! <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments! also, I would love to dedicate this chapter to the lovely @donttrustlove who reads and comments on every chapter I post <3

“We have a few emails coming in for the manager position, do you want to check them out?”

You two are sitting on his kitchen counter like this is the most natural thing to do at two in the morning. Spencer has work the next morning but still insists that it’s fine and that he wants to keep you company. You think he still feels guilty about the fact that, if not for him and his weird connection to Cat, you would have never been put into this tricky of a position. So he makes up for it where he can– he brings dinner whenever he knows he’ll be home late because he knows you’ll be waiting for him to eat; he makes a mean cereal bowl in the morning whenever he has time; he leaves books he knows you are yet to read by the small table next to your armchair because that is now your armchair and he would never steal that away from you. 

In your own efforts, you also try to make him feel a bit more comfortable with the reality of everything, and you don’t bug him much to go outside, anymore. You don’t call him all panicked and gasping for air whenever he goes on work trips either, instead choosing to spend those lonely days in the endless company of Penelope. Officer Kaper has gotten better and been cleared to work again, and having him with you whenever Spencer isn’t brings you some sort of comfort and guilt. This man had become a target thanks to you and suddenly, you don’t quite read the fantastical stories of princesses and their faithful knights. The way your stomach weights down whenever they eventually get hurt to protect the fairest lady of the land does not sit right with you anymore– you refuse to believe that romance is hurt and pain for one and comfort and safety for the other. 

At this point two weeks had gone by without you even noticing. Suddenly, you jumped from day 9 to day 23 and with the month mark approaching, so is your need for answers. Cat has been silent ever since the attack on Officer Kaper’s house, and so is her partner. For a second, it’s almost like she’s teasing you, like she’s throwing a taste of freedom in your face only to later pull the carpet from right under your feet. Spencer must feel like this too, considering how jittery he has been lately. At this point, you know how to recognise the different gestures of those pretty hands, and the way he fidgets with his fingers while reading War and Peace yet again tells you that he is not, in fact, reading the book, but trying to read himself. You don’t quite understand him fully yet, and that is okay; Spencer has shown you that even if it takes time, he is worth waiting for. 

You still don’t know what happened to him, weeks ago, when you two were discussing Josh. You still don’t know what made him choke on his own words or what had his body limp and stripped of energy in your arms, but the truth is that you don’t really care what it was. Not yet. For now, you are just happy that Spencer showed you a side of himself that you had never seen before, and that he has been less… overbearing about your job. Actually, he had been the one that told you to check your emails for applications, suggesting stating the interview process so that you can make a schedule to possibly go back to the store. “Are you serious?” You whispered to him, eyes wide and waiting for Derek to pop out from the kitchen shouting ha! Gotcha! 

“Of course,” He smiled and nodded and the rest is history. 

The chairs are so close together that your legs brushes against his every time you lean forward to squint at the computer, but at this point, you two don’t even notice it. Cuddling on the couch after a mentally taxing conversation had unlocked new heights for you two, and though he does miss the way your cheeks flushed red whenever your fingers brushed, he prefers how now you just smile, honest and bright, whenever he’s closer than he should be. You don’t know that, but Spencer thinks your spoiling him rotten with these smiles. In your defence, however, smiling at him is just the easiest thing in the world. “Okay, what do we think of this one? His name is–“

“No.” 

Your head whips to look at him, eyes wide behind your glasses. “But I didn’t even finish my sentence!”

“There is a weird gap in his resume,” Spence points out with a smug smile. He likes showing off to you, you’ve noticed. 

“I can ask him about it during the interview process! Spence, he used to work at–“

“Next.” 

You know he won’t budge when he gives you that tight-lipped, dimples-showing smile of his. “My god, you are hard to please,” You grumble and poke him in the stomach with your elbow, already scrolling to the next email. 

When you feel his arm falling onto the back of your chair, you lean back a little into his touch, humming to keep yourself awake. “I am not hard to please,” He says easily. “I just won’t accept you hiring mediocre men to do the job you’ve been doing flawlessly.” 

The way he emphasises men makes you chuckle. “But a mediocre woman is okay?”

“A bit better,” He admits gruffly, and you laugh. “This one seems promising!”

“Give me time to read, Spencer!” You groan, leaning forward again and nodding while your eyes scan through each line. “Okay, she seems good, Mr. Picky. Studied English Literature, so she’ll obviously have some literary background, has previous experience managing bookshops and cafes, has dealt with stock and suppliers before…” The list goes on and on, and you write her name down on the notebook to your right. That’s where the names Penelope will be running a background check on go, per Spencer’s insistence. 

“Wait a second,” Something about the name, so visual and palpable in your little notebook previously filled with facts and memories of Spencer, makes you frown. Why does it sound so familiar? 

Abigail Harrison. 

“What is it?” He hums, chin once again finding perch on your shoulder. Little by little, you start to think that that is where he belongs, leaning on you, relying on you. “Who is Abigail Harrison?” 

“I don’t–“ But then you see it, the address on top of the resume and you hold your breath. “Abigail.” 

“Abi– Wait, the new neighbour? That Abigail?” His arms go around you, and now you’re in an awkward angle, half falling off the chair, half leaning on him, but you don’t mind. What you do mind is the uncomfortable, suspicious feeling in your gut. “Oh. That’s fine.” 

“You don’t think it’s a weird coincidence?” Turning to look at him, you bit your lip in unsureness. 

“Not really– if anything, I think it’s a very logical series of events,” He shrugs and you feel it in your own body. “She clearly has the experience and is obviously looking for a job, so why not one that fits her as an employee and is just a five minute walk across the street?” 

As if sensing your worries, Spencer moves, yet again doing the unpredictable and dropping a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Having one thing to worry about it not enough, apparently, so he gives you another one, and now you know for a fact you won’t be able to sleep any time soon. He’s been doing things like this lately, and you think it’s because he’s finally getting used to your presence next to him at almost all hours of the day. His phobia of germs seems to be pushed aside when it comes to your skin, and if he washes his hand right after letting you go, you don’t take it to heart; it’s just who he is. But with cheek kisses and forehead kisses starting a list, this is yet another one for you to tally up– shoulder kisses. All five stars, ten-out-of-ten-would-do-it-again, though you don’t really ask him for them. You just wait. Living with Spencer has taught you patience, amongst many other things, and for him you don’t mind exercising it to its fullest, excited for your list to grow even longer. 

“Garcia already ran her name through the database,” He whispers in your ear, hands going up and down your arms in a gesture that tells you he knows you’re nervous. “She’s clean, sweetheart.” 

This is new too. 

Letting out a strangled noise at the changes that kept on coming, you nod, mind completely shifting focus. “Yeah, okay,” You breathe out, eyes slowly fighting to stay open and not because of the time. “I uh, I’ll reply to her and ask her to come in to the shop for an interview…”

“That sounds great, but it also sounds like it can be done tomorrow when you’re not almost falling asleep,” Oh, sweet, innocent Spencer. Before you can even protest, he shakes his head, smiling like he’s trying to hold it back. “We’re going to bed, Y/N. I have work tomorrow and now, so do you.” 

Any and all protests fall disappear from your lips– the prospect of getting to go to work after only being able to keep the store’s website open actually has you excited enough to make you sleepy. The contradictory emotions will surely bit you in the ass when you actually lay down next to Spencer, but you don’t care. You get to open up the shop again and that alone is enough to make you squeak in glee, naked feet thumping through the wooden floor. He always bugs you to put on socks, afraid that you’ll get sick with the cold breeze that manages to push its way in despite the windows being shut, but you like feeling the cold on your soles. It always sends a little zap of life up your body and you enjoy it the same way kids enjoy hopping in the mud despite the mess– it makes you feel alive. 

There is a rhythmic routine to how you and Spencer get ready for bed. He brushes his teeth behind you, and you usually wash your face first, so that while he does it, you can braid your hair ready for the night. At first, you didn’t really worry about that because you two did your best to stay in your respective corner of the bed. You tried putting a pillow between you too but after the first time you kicked it off of the bed, you never bring it to the room with you again. Then you tried just paying attention, but that made you lose a significant amount of sleep and you ended up cranky for days. Giving up and accepting that, like it or not, you will end up waking up in Spencer’s arms, legs tangled with his and mouth drooling a little on his shirt, had been the best thing to do to move forward. Now, you two don’t pretend that anything else will happen, and before you’re even asleep, he opens his arms with a grunt, your signal to scoot closer and enjoy your very own space heater of man. “Alright, alright, I’m here,” You mumbled, happy with the way your body is warm but your feet are cold. So cold, in fact, that the moment one brushes up against his, Spencer yelps. 

“What the hell was that?” He gasps, eyes going wide in shock. 

“What?” You ask, smiling mischievously. 

It would be unfair to say that the fear from early in the days has disappeared. It hasn’t– you’re still scared. Sometimes, it tackles you like a football player, abruptly and with so much force that you’re left breathless and immobile for a few minutes. Other times, it creeps up behind you, and you have time to prepare yourself. Despite the sudden appearances, however, your fear has lost that constantness that it had before. It’s duller, to the point that at times it’s just not there at all. And you quite like it, everything considered… it gives you space to breathe. It also gives you space to be– not be anything specific, but just be. And the more you can be, the more your personality starts to come back, peeking through the curtains you had set between yourself and the world. 

Spencer always knew you were a playful woman, but this just confirmed it. “Y/N, don’t you–AH! Oh my god, these are death machines! Put some socks on!”

“Never!” You shout before fully pushing your feet against his legs. 

Laying there, feeling Spencer squirm underneath you and then going off on some random fact about why it is important to keep your feet warm, is when you remember. 

You are a believer in silver linings. 

And you believe Spencer might just be yours. 

————————————

The shop looked exactly like you had left it, which made you happy and sad at the same time. Took you almost an hour to leave the house that morning, Spencer practically having to drag you away from the mirror with promises that “You look beautiful, Y/N.” Officer Kaper is waiting for you by the door when Spencer drops you off with a kiss to your cheek and hurried steps down the street. 

From then on, it’s a frenzy of cleaning. You try to convince Officer Kaper– or Mike, as he told you to call him– that he should sit down and guard the door, but he’s having none of it and instead, carries the not so heavy boxes of brand new books that you ordered as soon as you got news you’d be coming back to work. This is exciting to you, this return to normal, but it also makes you somewhat anxious. Once all of this is resolved– and you’ve taken to thinking about it with the mindset that it is not if it will be resolved, but once it is resolved– what will happen to you and Spencer? Living with him has its perks and the biggest one is that you get to actually see him with some sort of frequency. You get to experience having him in your life instead of just someone who comes and goes as they want. If you go back home, even if just across the street, right above your store he visits everyday… will you still feel this connection you do right now? Will you still get forehead kisses, and sneaky touches of his hand, and his pinky hooking with yours when you pass by?

None of that matters, though, when you hear the bell ringing through the shop. A customer. “Hello!” You call out from the shelves, making your way to the front. A buzz of anxiousness runs through you, though you quickly put it out; there is a literal police office standing guard by the door. You are safe. 

You are even safer when you see it’s Abigail, the downstairs neighbour. 

“Hi! I’m a little early, I hope that’s alright?” 

Oh god. With all the cleaning and organising, you lost track of time. “Oh gosh, yeah, of course!” You say, pulling your hair down from the mess on top of your hair and smoothing it down. 

You want to make a good impression on her. Out of all four interviews you have today, you hate to admit that Abigail seems the most fit for the position. Her experience is almost immaculate and her immediate availability is almost too good to be true. In fact, Abigail as a whole, with her warm smile and welcoming aura, seems too good to be true. As much as you believe in silver linings, she just seems like a straight up miracle. 

“Please, sit,” Pointing to the foldable chair by the corner of the counter, you smile. “We don’t really have a sitting area yet, but I’m working on it.”

“Oh don’t worry about it!” Abigail’s voice is bright and peppy, and you should like her. You do like her, actually, but even so, you can’t quite ignore the nagging feeling in your gut. “I also brought a copy of my resume in case you didn’t have mine readily available–“

“I have it here, but thank you!” So far she has been nothing but delightful, and to be honest, it’s almost like she is a missing puzzle. The way she fits in the store is almost weird, and maybe is the way she is dressed so similarly to you, or how she looks like someone who would manage a bookshop, all plaid and cardigans and pretty smiles. 

Pretty.

Abigail is pretty and that’s when it downs on you that you feel a little jealous. You are not ugly by any means, but the idea that Spencer will go to your store only to look at another woman– a younger, prettier woman– has you holding your breath. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” 

Snapping out of it, you blush in embarrassment. You’re being crazy and you know it. “Yeah! Sorry, my mind went somewhere else for a second. So uh, why don’t we start with you just telling me a little bit about yourself and what do you want to work here, I guess.” You sound as unsure as you feel, and you suddenly regret saying no to the list of questions Spencer offered to make you. 

“Well, we’ve met briefly when I was moving into the building,” She giggles. “But my name is Abigail Harrison, recently moved to Washington D.C. from New York City–“

“I’m from New York!” You exclaim, big smile spreading as you finally place the familiar intonation in her voice. 

“No way! Where? I was born and raised in Brooklyn!” And suddenly it all makes sense– her cool nerdiness, her extroverted nature, her ease to fit in. This girl is definitely from Williamsburg.

“Oh, I was raised in the West Village but then moved to uh, Upper East Side,” The memory of moving in with Joshua is an uncomfortable one and makes you immediately change the course of the conversation. Throughout this interaction, you have to remember to be nice, but also serious. You don’t want to give her the impression that this will be an easy job, specially not with how reluctant you already were with hiring someone. “So, why do you want to work here? Besides the close proximity, of course.”

“To be honest, I–“ And there is a pause. It’s not long nor weird, it just sounds like she’s thinking, but Spencer likes to point out your own pauses whenever you try to lie to him about your strategy during nightly backgammon, and it’s become a sort of a bad habit you’ve gotten from him. Squinting, you let her continue. “I just really like the store. I know this sounds a bit ridiculous, but I walk past here every morning, and every morning, I prayed that it would be open. Everything inside looked so… homey. So familiar. And I’ve worked with books my entire life, you know? I thought… it was fate.” 

There is a redness in her cheeks that makes you squirm in your seat, nape of your neck suddenly feeling a little clammy. “Fate…” You mumble, nodding while looking down at the blank notebook on your lap. Right now, you are torn– you are trying to understand what is it about Abigail that makes you so hesitant while also fighting against your gut simply because the more she talks about her experience, the more you know she has to be the one. 

“…and after almost five years as a manager, I’ve found that I have a really good method of keeping things in order,” She finishes, nodding eagerly for you to show her any reaction. 

“That is really good to hear,” You gulp, getting your head back in place. “So just to reiterate, this would be a full time, part time position, of sorts. I would still come in some days in the week, and you would be acting manager whenever I am not here to oversee things. Whenever I am here though, you would be a very welcomed extra pair of hands and company. Believe it or not, we tend to get quite busy during lunch time and it was getting a bit too much to be here by myself.”

“So we’d still work together some days, right?” Her excitement is so clear in her voice that even Officer Kaper turns to pay more attention to you two. “Like, we’d still get to be a uh, a team?”

“Of course,” You say, nodding stiffly and looking at the clock. “I love working in a collaborative environment and I wouldn’t leave you alone in a new job straight away. We’ll start with training days and go from there.”

“That sounds incredible!”

“Yeah…” Looking at Mike– you are doing your best to abide by his wishes and call him by his first name– he gives you a little nod of recognition. “Anyways, do you have any questions for me?” When she shakes her head, you get up and offer her a hand to shake. “I’ll be making a decision by today end of day. I have a couple of other people to interview, but I’ll let you know either way.” 

Is it just you or is her hand lingering a little? 

“If you don’t call me, I know where to find you,” She says, her little laughter giving out the fact that this is supposed to be a joke. But you don’t laugh. And neither does the armed policeman by your door. 

“Ha ha,” You say, trying your best to be nice regardless. “That you do!”

“Your boyfriend is lucky to have you, I bet he gets lots of books for free,” Abigail is a chatterbox, that much is clear, and with every try for a conversation, the more you feel like she’s just digging for gossip. For a minute, you actually think you are back in high school. 

“Wha–“

“Or is that not your boyfriend?” 

You don’t really know what to do, and it shows. Which is why you’re not surprised at all when Officer Kaper, your one and only hero, steps in. “Sorry to ask, ma’am, I should’ve said something before, but would you mind me checking your ID? We are conducting a security check system for the businesses in this area, there has been a rise in robberies lately and this is just for precaution.” 

“Oh my! Of course,” After that, it doesn’t take long for her leave. 

There is not even a minute of silence until a customer walks in and you have to slap that fake smile in your face again. The hair on the back of your neck is standing up in a way that makes you a bit too aware of everything, and that, in turn, makes your heart skip a beat. Nervously glancing at Mike, you keep trying to remind yourself that you are safe, that you have someone to protect you. It’s hard to focus on your work when Spencer’s voice echoes in your head making up a list of everything that could go wrong. Your job is very open to the general public. People can easily see inside. You don’t know what they have in their bags. His habit of mouthing off whatever comes to mind is not coming back to bite you in the ass. 

“You have a boyfriend?” Officer Kaper’s questions snaps you back to reality.

“Huh? Oh! No!” Shaking your head, you awkwardly lean over the counter to try and ignore the sure blush on your cheeks. “She’s talking about Spencer.” 

“She knows Doctor Reid?” It’s clear from his tone that this arises some suspicion in him. 

“She just moved into the building and we met her when we were coming out for a second,” You shrug. You don’t want to feed your panic and you also don’t want to leave the man who got injured because of you on edge and scared. Abigail is just a bit taller than you and definitely stronger, with the body of someone who seems to care about her healthy appearance, while you… well, you prefer sitting on your armchair all afternoon with a cup of coffee and a book in your hands. A bit of a cliche, yes, but your life overall was a bit of a cliche, if you think too hard about it. “Spence thought it was better to let her believe whatever.” 

“Hm, I’m sure he did,” Mike said with a dramatic wink, wiggling his brows in that suggestive way that makes you chuckle so desperately that he has a hard time not laughing at your reaction. “You know, I think Doctor Reid has a crush on you.” 

“Ex-Excuse me?” You sputter out, eyes wide at how easy it is for this man to voice something that has been swimming in your head so insistently. 

Spencer having a crush on you is not that wild of a thought, when you think about it objectively. It’s the Proximity Principle. You read about it once back when you were in college and it’s kind of stuck– people are more likely to form close relationships with other people they spend significant amount of time with. Unfortunately, though, you also know that crushes are also dependant on a certain fantastical factor, something that allows humans to project a lot of their needs onto the one that holds their affections. Predicting Spencer’s needs is actually not hard either, and the more he tells you about himself, the more your heart break for the boy that lives inside that man; the one that is afraid of being abandoned, the one that misses his mother dearly, the one sees a family in the coworkers he spends so much time with. You see how you can fulfil this role for him, you’re not blind nor stupid. His smile gives him away, to be very honest, with how bright and big it gets when he notices you waiting for him to get home, sitting in your armchair, reading the book he left for you next to it. Or how he tries to hold it back, that gorgeous, beautiful smile, when he hears you calling his name, all whiny and shy at the same time, to ask him something so ridiculous and out of pocket that he can’t do anything but laugh. 

You are the sense of belonging he never had. 

The same way that he is the sense of consistency you’ve always craved. Though in your case, you know that he is so much more than that. 

In his… well, you will never know until you ask. 

And my god, you’re not ready to ask.

“Yeah, a crush,” Officer Kaper shrugs, walking to the counter and smiling like a kid saying something naughty. “He used to talk about you all the time, before all this. The pretty bookseller.” 

“Now you’re just enjoying making me squirm,” You say, squinting at him despite how his words make your heart race. 

“Maybe I am,” He jokes. “But I’m serious! You two are obviously into each other… right?” 

“Officer–“

“Mike, please!”

“Mike,” You sigh with an attitude, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “Are you trying to profile me?” 

His silence is enough of an answer to make you gasp. 

“It’s not like that–“

“Mike, do you want to be a BAU profiler?!” The way you whisper makes all of this feel like a big secret ever. Your body is leaning over to try and get closer to him, and you’re so excited about knowing this that it makes you bounce a little in your feet. “Why didn’t you say something before? I’m sure Spence would help! You can ask him all the questions and–“

“I already too the FBI entrance exam once and didn’t get in,” He interrupts you with such abruptness that something in the air shifts. This is not fun anymore. It’s tense. “It’s fine. I’m happy doing my part here with the MPD.” 

“You are,” You nod. “You really are. Thank you.” 

That is the last of the small talk for the day, the next interviewee coming in before you can say another peep. 

————————————

“Did you have a good time at the store today?” 

This is the first time that you are not the one doing the waiting. Or the cooking. Or– “Did you clean?” You ask, a bit shocked with how spotless the entire place looks even though the air smells like tomato sauce and… something else? 

“Why do you say this as something so hard to believe?” Spencer is baffled at your expression, laughing incredulously. “I live here! This is my apartment! I’ve been living by myself since I was 18!”

“I just never seen you clean!” You defend yourself with a lighthearted laughter.

“I’m thirty years old!”

“That just means you’re old,” And you two fall back to the usual teasings while you walk around the living room, dropping your coat and bag on the couch, and moving into the kitchen to help with whatever you can. “Oh my! And you even cooked! Careful Spence, you’re spoiling me… I might just want you to make me dinner everyday from now on.” 

Spencer just shrugs with that little shy smile playing on his lips. “I could get used to spoiling you…” 

“I could get used to being spoiled,” You mumble, eyes unwavering from his. Letting the tension of the moment grow, you push your hair behind your ears. “Can I help with anything?” 

“Not really, I made sure to start it really so it would be ready when you came home,” He says and turns into a ball of excitement that is all limbs and fast words. You love him like this and so you listen, like you’ve been yearning to do all day. He tells you that this is a recipe that Rossi taught him a while ago, and the wine is the exact same one he recommended back then, and just as he says, when you look closely to the busy workspace on the kitchen isle, there they are– two glasses half-full. In a very Spence fashion, he goes on and on about the exactness of the ingredients and how the whole idea that cooking is about ‘feeling it’ is kind of stupid, but the more he talks, the more breathless you find yourself. 

There is wine. 

There are entrees, and it looks like Spencer did his due diligence, buying your favourite crackers from the deli nearby. 

There are main dishes, sides, dessert; and you guess it is some sort of a tiramisu, catching the smudges of chocolate powder and coffee by the sink. 

And then there is Spencer. There is Spencer back home early. Spencer wearing his favourite purple sweater. Spencer with his combed hair. Spencer without his phone? Now you are suspicious, looking around with a confused frown on your face.  

“Is everything okay?” 

“Where is your phone?” His satchel is also not where he usually leaves it, gone from it’s perch by the door. 

“My phone?” He asks, sounding as confused as you. “Why do you need my phone?” 

“I don’t, I just never seen you without it.” 

“Oh,” That makes him laugh. “I don’t need it today.”

“Why not?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N,” Spencer catches you by the shoulder and brings you back to the set dinner. “Just sit down and enjoy this. We finally have some time to spend together.” 

“You would never let anything kill me,” You say so easily that it can’t be anything else other than the truth. “Why don’t you need your phone?” 

He snorts and turns to mix something in one of his many pans. “Because Hotch and Rossi forbade the team to call me tonight. Derek said he’d be on call instead.” 

“That’s awfully nice of Mister Muscles,” You comment offhandedly and there is something about the way you notice Spencer tensing a little that makes your smirk.

“He has a girlfriend, you know.”

“Oh, I know– I heard it all from his baby girl, who is not his girlfriend, but is a big fan of that couple,” You say, happily smiling while munching on a cracker. “Why?”

“Just checking if you knew. A lot of girls are usually… taken… by Derek’s looks and charms, but he’s off the market now. I think Savannah is here to stay.” 

Crinkling your nose at the though of dating Agent Derek Morgan, you quickly shake your head. “God, no, I’m not– No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he is objectively handsome, but he’s not my type.” 

“Are we talking about the same Derek Morgan?” He scoffs without turning to you. “He is everyone’s type…”

“Not mine,” You repeat, silently getting up from where you sway your feet. With muted steps, you walk around the kitchen isle to stand behind him, fidgeting with your hands in a moment of unsureness. 

Maybe you are reading this wrong. Not every man that does a nice gesture is interested in you, you know that mainly because you never really believe people are interested in you at all, but it’s getting progressively hard to not look at everything he had done for you and not think it is a date. 

Before you can overthink this, Spencer is moving backwards. “Oh? What is your type, then– oh fuck!” Your arms go around his waist as soon as he bumps into you, and you don’t let him squirm away, even though he tries. “Y/N, wha-what are you doing…?”

Gently, you let your head fall onto his back, forehead pressing close to his nape. Silence reigns until you are ready to speak, but Spencer waits, tense and oh so patient. “Spencer,” You whisper with your broken voice, nerves getting the best of you and making you shake like a chihuahua. “Spencer, is this–“ 

Sweet as ever, his hand moves from the counter, where his knuckles are white with how hard he grips it, to a slow touch to your hand. Brushing his fingers overs your skin, he whispers back. “Is this what?”

“Spencer is this a…” Why can’t you bring yourself to say it? 

Around you, there is noise. You hear the neighbours upstairs, the click-clack of their shoes echoing until they are gone. You hear the heater pipes reading themselves to work through the night once again. You hear the food in front of you two bubbling and sizzling. And my god, do you hear him… you hear his heart, beating, racing, so strong and fast, that you smile to yourself. This is all Spencer– every noise, every shake, every thump and thud of that amazing, loving heart of his.

“It is.” 

Your arms squeeze around him in shock. “I didn’t even say it.”

“By now, you should know you don’t have to,” The soft cadence of his perfect pronunciation tells you that he is feeling confident and calm, and you bask in it for a second or two. Until he hits you with the million dollar question. “If Morgan is not your type, who is?”

“I want to say it, though.”

“Who is your type?”

It’s a weird battle of stubbornness between you two, but you don’t mind. You would fight this war forever, if it meant this– feeling him alive and breathing and laughing. “Let me say it,” You ask, smiling coyly even though he can’t see it. “Please.” His adorable little laughter sends a wave of ripples down his back and you press your face closer to feel it. “Say it then.”

“Spencer Reid, is this a date?” 

“I was hoping it would be,” He says and pauses. “Y/N Y/L/N, am I your type?” 

“I don’t really have a type,” You say slowly, pulling back a little to nudge him to turn around. You only smile when you see his eyes– those curious, curious eyes– that constantly look for answers for his questions. Sometimes, you don’t have answers, but he looks for them anyways. First in one, then the other. Spencer looks at you carefully, slowly, like you are something worth committing to that memory of his by the detail. Like he wants to remember you even when he closes his eyes. You see it, how you make him feel like he belongs, with your open smiles and blinking eyes. But you also see, for the first time, how you are also so much more. “But if I did, it would be you.” 

You are a believer in silver linings. 

And yes, Spencer might just be yours… specially with the way his lips feel against yours. 

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

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[reareaotaku]

My Sweet Valentine

Fuck Valentine's Day and every single couple ever! Also I know Valentine's Day has already past smartass. Leave me alone

Summary: How they act 4 Valentine's Day? Characters: Mike Wheeler, Luke Sinclair, Jane 'Eleven' Hopper, Maxine 'Max' Mayfield, Billy Hargrove, Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley [I was going to do Eddie Munson, but I didn't want to write for him] Tw: None [That I know of]

Mike Wheeler

He was FREAKING out

He had completely forgotten about Valentine's Day, because it never was important to him, because he never had a partner before

God, he's so fucked

Throws something together last second and hopes you don't notice [You do]

He tries coming up with an excuse but, he doesn't convince you

He tries getting his sister's help, as a last resort, but she makes it harder for him

She starts scolding him for forgetting and complaining about how she couldn't believe they were related

Feels extremely guilty when you give him stuff, stuff he likes. He actually thinks about death right then and there because he knows that he's so getting dumped

Thankfully, you don't dump him [He's thrilled because he doesn't know what he'd do without you], but you do ignore him and give him the cold shoulder for a few days until he makes it up to you

Lucas Sinclair

He has been preparing for this moment all year

No way was he ending up in the dog house

He goes all out, getting you all that stupid stuff [Teddy bears, chocolate, roses etc]

He even makes a poster that has some stupid basket ball pun asking if you'll be his Valentine

Makes him so giddy when seeing you so happy to receive the gifts

Puffs his chest out in pride, because he did that

He'll be surprised when you pull out some Valentine's stuff for him

He wasn't expecting it and now you have him blushing

"For me?"

"Well, I don't have another boyfriend"

He frowns, but ultimately takes the gifts

Jane 'Eleven' Hopper

Valentine's Day? What's that?

Pretty clueless on the holiday, but when she learns about it, she falls in love instantly

She thinks it's so cute and wants to do something special with you

"What do couples usually do on Valentine's Day?"

"Well, they do a lot of stuff... You know, there isn't just one thing- You know?"

She hums, but she does in fact not know what you mean, but it's easier for her to pretend she does

"But uh, if there's something in particular you want to do-"

"I want to do it all!" She's quick and blushes because she didn't mean to outburst like that

You giggle, "I love your enthusiasm, but we can't do everything, but we can do most of it"

You both make cards for each other and she enjoys the time she's spending with you

She ends up loving the holiday and excited for next year, because she wants to do everything else that you couldn't do this year

Maxine 'Max' Mayfield

She does not give a shit about that stupid stuff

If you get her something, cool, but it's not needed

If you want to do something, you'll have to talk to her, otherwise it's just another day to her

She might give you one of those stupid Valentine's Cards, just because she sees all the other couples doing it, but it's not something she thinks about

When she's writing your name on it, she frowns, because what if you don't like it?

She knows you deserve better, so she debates making you a home-made card

^ It does not go well, so she sticks with the store bought card

She also gets you those tiny heart chocolate boxes

Billy Hargrove

You set yourself up for failure on this one, expecting him to get you something. Like do you even know him?

You'll be lucky if he even acknowledges that it's Valentine's Day

You can get him something and he'll keep it [Probably hides it, so his dad can't find it], but otherwise doesn't say much

He thinks it's cute how you act, but he doesn't understand it. It's just some stupid day and he doesn't see anything important about it

In fact, it just seems like a stupid excuse to spend tons of money for someone you might not even still be with in a month

He treasures the gifts you get him [Believe it or not]

If you make him a card, he keeps it in his nightstand

If you get him a teddy bear, it's either on his bed or in his pillowcase [When he wants it hidden]

Steve 'The Hair' Harrington

He's quite the romantic and goes all out

He loves Valentine's Day, because he can show you off and show you how much he loves you

He'll ask you to be his Valentine, even if you're already dating

He's so cheesy and makes all kind of puns and jokes

^ It actually gets annoying for you and you have to beg him to stop

Makes you a homecooked meal with wine and shit

After that, he brings you to the couch to watch all your favorite movies

He wants to enjoy your embrace and cuddle with you

[It also gives him an excuse to not spend the night alone]

You'll be so wrapped into each other, nearly about to have a moment when the phone rings and Steve wants to kill whoever is on the other line. When he hears Dustin's voice, he wants to reach through the phone and choke the young man

It's fine though, you tell him, you were still having a good time just being with him

Nancy Wheeler

Makes you home-made gifts

She wants to give you something that comes from her heart and has true meaning

She doesn't really like storebought stuff

She thinks it means more if you make it, even if it's bad

She wants to spend quality time with you

It doesn't really matter what you're doing, she just wants to be in your presence

It's a very chill day and you don't have to do anything over the top

Robin Buckley

As a dirt poor woman, she works all year just to buy you something simple

When she finally raised enough money to buy you something nice for Valentine's Day, she was overwhelmed by all the Valentine's Day stuff

What was she supposed to get you? There was so much stuff! What the fuck!?

Pretty much has a panic attack, because she's scared she'll pick the wrong thing

God, why is this so stressful???

She decides to just close her eyes and pick something at random

Is thrilled when you like the gift

[the--blackdahlia]

Wild Horses (Beetlejuice x Reader)

Title: Wild Horses

Summary: Lydia keeps summoning Beetlejuice away from (Y/n) right when they get to the good part. He wants to know why.

Warning: Hinted sexual content, body image issues

“Mmm babes, you smell delicious,” Beetlejuice started kissing behind (y/n)’s ear, smirking at the reaction he was getting from her. They were both on her bed, where they had been listening to music and talking, but now, Beetlejuice had other things in mind.

“Beej, the door’s open,” (Y/n) was trying to find an excuse to get him to stop. She wanted to go on, she really liked him, but insecurities had a tendency to get the best of her. Beetlejuice snapped his fingers and the door shut, the loud creaking of the hinges echoing down the hall.

“There, that’s taken care of,” He went back to kissing (Y/n)’s neck.

“Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!” He heard Lydia summon him. With a loud groan, he left (Y/n)’s side and appeared in the dining room, where Lydia, Barbara, and Adam were set around the table.

“What is so fucking important?!” He snapped.

“We need a fourth for cards. Matilda’s at work.” Beetlejuice stood there for a second, just staring at her. She swore she could see the red spreading across his ashy skin.

“YOU FUCKING SUMMONED ME TO PLAY CARDS?!” He exploded, and the Maitlands could practically see smoke coming out of his ears.

“Yes I did. Now come sit,” Lydia was calm, used to Beetlejuice’s tantrums. She had even set up a little corner in a couple of the rooms for him to throw tantrums in. Matilda had even made signs for them during craft night at the library. Beetlejuice grumbled but took a seat across from Lydia.

“Five card stud? Texas Hold ‘Em? Stripping?” Beetlejuice wiggled his eyebrows.

“We’re playing Spades,” Barbara smiled at him, and Beetlejuice groaned.

“You pulled me away from a fucking sexy woman…to play Spades?”

“Yep. Adam’s dealer first,” Lydia gave Beetlejuice a shit-eating grin. Beetlejuice let out the most annoyed groan before picking up his cards to play the game.

****

That’s how things went over the next few weeks. Every time Beetlejuice started to get intimate, Matilda or Lydia would summon him away from (Y/n). It was really starting to annoy him, especially when he would go back to pick up where he left off and (Y/n) would be asleep or otherwise preoccupied.

Finally, after Lydia pulled him away to go have lunch with Matilda, he just about had enough.

“Why do you keep doing this shit to me Lyds?” He grumbled as the three sat in the parking lot of the Subway close to their house.

“Can’t I just spend time with my friend?” She sounded so innocent, but he knew there was something deeper behind her words.

“You never wanted to do that all the time until I got with (Y/n). So what’s up?” Matilda and Lydia looked at each other.

“Maybe we should tell him,” Matilda took a bite of her Miss Vickie’s.

“Okay, okay,” Lydia took a drink before turning to look at Beetlejuice. “(Y/n) hates the way her body looks. And she’s worried that you’ll find her repulsive.”

“...She does realize I’m a dead guy, right?” Beetlejuice looked at Lydia and Matilda like they had two heads. “I mean, she would legit be fucking a zombie pretty much.”

“Gross,” Matilda commented, making Beetlejuice roll his eyes.

“That’s it. I’ve got to fix this,” Beetlejuice had a look in his eye as ideas came pouring in. He knew what he needed to do.

****

“I’m home!” (Y/n) called out, carrying groceries in. “Hello?” The house was eerily silent. (Y/n) looked at the fridge and saw a note from Lydia.

‘Date night with Matilda. Be back late. -Lydia’

“Hmmm, okay,” She worked on putting groceries away. “Beej, you home?” She called out but didn’t hear him. She sighed and grabbed the drink she had bought herself and headed up the stairs to her room to read and relax.

Upon approaching her door, she could hear what sounded to be the Rolling Stones playing. Pushing open the door, she saw Beetlejuice sitting on her bed, guitar in hand, with dead flowers surrounding him. He was singing, but it sounded more like Mick Jagger than him.

“Wild horses. Couldn't drag me away. Wild, wild horses. Couldn't drag me away,” Beetlejuice sang to (Y/n). She sat her drink on her desk and walked towards him. He stopped playing when she saw by him.

“What’s all this about?” She picked up one of the dying daises and slipped it on top of her ear.

“I thought it’d be…romantic?” He couldn’t stop staring at her. “You’re beautiful.”

“Beej…”

“Nope. No arguing with me. I mean,” The guitar disappeared as he stood up. “I’m literally a dead guy. And you are the most beautiful breather I’ve ever seen.”

“Guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one,” (Y/n) was suddenly taken aback when Beetlejuice took her face in his hands.

“We’re not leaving this room until I prove to you that you are beautiful,” He got a wicked smile on his face. “And babe, I can go all night.”

[thursdayinspace]

So I rewatched "Our Town" last night and when I sat down at my laptop this morning to do something that was not writing, I ended up writing instead. These things happen. Just a silly fluffy-ish little thing because omg that ep is so gross and also Scully has to be getting sick of being abducted all the time. Mulder feels the same way.

She can’t sleep. It’s not every day you almost get beheaded—even after everything that she’s already been through this year, it seems there are still things that can shake her up pretty badly. She rolls over on the lumpy motel mattress and tries to get comfortable. For a glorious moment, she considers quitting. Handing Skinner her resignation and walking away, finding a nice job with regular hours where people won’t handcuff her to radiators, stick her in closets, contort their stretchy bodies through cracks in her bathroom window, or drive her around in the trunks of their cars before handing her over to aliens or the government or whatever theory Mulder’s going with right now. A job where she won’t spend the end of a work day strapped into a metal harness as a guy in a mask raises an ax above her head.

In her mind she pictures a simple life: a nice house with a yard, a dog greeting her as she opens the door and walks inside after a long day at the hospital…no, a private practice? A day of teaching? Whatever she’s been doing, she walks into a kitchen that smells like home-cooked dinner, leaning up to kiss her faceless husband who’s vaguely Mulder-shaped. “Honey, I’m home!” “Dinner’s almost ready! How was your day?” “Fine. Narrowly avoided decapitation. Nothing exciting.” Fuck. Not even fantasy-Scully can escape the absurdity of this life.

The knock on her door doesn’t even surprise her. She already knows who it is. He stopped waking her unless it’s something really important, so she groans and gets up, her bones aching, weeping inwardly as she makes her way to the door. So she can’t sleep; that doesn’t mean she wants to spend the night going over their case report or whatever that infuriatingly charming insomniac wants from her this time.

But when she opens the door, he doesn’t look as if he wants to go over case reports. He looks like shit. As much as that’s even possible for him. Another thing that’s simply unfair about her life, she thinks with a sigh. Even with bags under his eyes and pale as a sheet he still looks beautiful. “Mulder?” she says.

He doesn’t answer, just steps right into her and pulls her into a wordless hug, so tight she’s a little afraid he’ll crack her ribs. She hugs him back weakly and pats his back, not quite sure what else to do since she has no idea what the fuck he’s even doing. She expects him to pull back, but he just keeps holding on, and she’s genuinely having trouble breathing.

“Uh, Mulder?” she says again, a little louder.

“You’re okay,” he mumbles into her hair, and she wiggles in his arms, trying to loosen his grip.

“Not for much longer if you don’t let go.”

“Sorry.” He drops his arms and takes a step back, but keeps looking at her like he’s never seen her before. “Sorry, I just—”

“It’s fine,” she says. “Did you have a bad dream?”

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah.” She grimaces. “Me neither. It’s been…a day.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, and she laughs. She’s too tired not to.

“Thanks to your timely rescue, my head is still firmly attached to my body.” It sounds a little bitter, and she’s surprised at herself before she feels another little piece of her frustration clicking into place. Ah, yes, she thinks. There’s that too. Rescued once again. She makes a mental note: fantasy-Scully in her little imaginary suburban nine-to-five utopia will never have to be rescued. She’s gonna be the one doing all the rescuing. Except nobody needs to be rescued in that perfect little world, because nothing bad ever happens to anyone.

“You don’t sound okay,” Mulder says, and she closes her eyes for a second. She’s not annoyed with him, she reminds herself. It’s not his fault that she became part of these townsfolks’ dinner plans, and it’s not his fault that she needed him to keep that from happening.

“I’m just a little tired.”

“I’ll let you sleep.” He sounds exhausted and when she looks at him, she sees leftover fear in his eyes. “No more interruptions, I promise.”

Her hand reaches out for his before she’s fully conscious of what she’s doing. It’s just that he’s here and she’s had enough of being Agent Scully for tonight, and he really looks so much like Doctor Scully’s faceless dinner-cooking husband in her nice little fantasy home. “Come on,” she says.

“What are you—”

“Bed,” she explains, hoping he won’t ask any more questions.

“Oh. Okay.”

She gets in on her side and is relieved when he lies down next to her without another word. She closes her eyes, but she can feel him stock-still as a statue next to her, she can feel the tension radiating off of him, and, hell, it sounds like he’s even trying to breathe without making a sound. So she grabs his arm and rolls onto her side, tugging him with her until he has his back against her chest, and she holds firmly onto his hand and snuggles back into him.

“Scully?” he asks, sounding a little confused.

“Relax, Mulder,” she tells him. “Sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“About sleeping?”

“You know what I mean.”

She laughs and squeezes his fingers. “No. Of course not. But honestly? I really don’t care right now.”

“Okay,” he says, and he gets it, she knew he’d get it. “Okay,” he repeats, and laces their fingers together. She feels him lift his head, feels his hot breath against the side of her face, and then a gentle kiss against the corner of her eye. “Good night, Scully.”

“Good night, Mulder.”

Behind her closed eyelids, fantasy Scully lies just like this with her faceless partner, who’s just as warm and smells just as good as real Scully’s friend-partner spooned up behind her. The only difference is that her own real Mulder is…well, real. No matter how perfect her beautiful little dream house with her beautiful perfect husband may be, she kind of prefers snuggling with someone who has a face and a name. And maybe she’d actually miss the mess.

Not all of it. Not the ax-swinging, homicidal maniacs or the lumpy motel mattresses. But a partner who knocks on her door in the middle of the night because he couldn’t sleep without making sure she was okay? Who sleeps wrapped around her with his breath ruffling the hair at the back of her neck, knowing this isn’t leading anywhere other than comfort and friendship? And…she kisses the backs of his fingers once she convinces herself he’s probably asleep…a vague hope that maybe this won’t always be all there is between them?

Yeah. She’ll take it.

[cenittxnadir]

Lunch Box SingleDad!Miguel O´Hara x Reader

I think i'm going to make a small serie of SingleDad Miguel. Its going to have small fics, drabbles and headcanons. This is the second one I make, but is not a sequel so can read it any order you want.

You have been dating Miguel for awhile now and everything was perfect. Gaby and you got along quite fast, a little too fast. But she loves you and you love her.

Her favorite thing is the weekend, that means that you would stay at their house, so she has you and her dad for two whole days. She knows that Miguel has a time consuming job yours was a little more flexible but still.

Miguel loved how things were going, he was really happy but he couldn't help to feel a little bit jealous about the little bond you made with her daughter. Don't get him wrong, he loves you both, of course his type of love is different from one to another. He loves how you care for Gabriela and how she loves to spend time with you, but sometimes he feels that he's left outside. He just couldn't help it, he wants to have that communication that you have with her daughter, she tells you things that probably she would never tell him about, on the other side, he wants to have your full undivided attention only for him. There are days when he doesn't want to share his daughter and others when he doesn't want to share you.

You knew about it, he gets all grumpy when he hears you talking low in Gaby's room when you have your "girls night". He has tried to walk "by accident" in the middle of your chat only to get a "it's nothing" in response and then a few giggles when he leaves the room. Gaby and you use this to bother him.

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

It had just past one of those weekends, and now it was monday, your day off, so you didn´t left.

Miguel heard his alarm sound, he turn it off with a groan and turn his boby to reach you, but he felt your bed space empty he got up quickly from his place looking for you, you were nowhere in the bedroom, all lights where out except for the little light that came out under the door meaning someone was on the kitchen or living room.

Against his will he got up, he felt cold without your presence. He rubbed his sleepines off his face with his hands. He didn´t want to get up yet, he would dragg you back to bed and sleep late until he had to "call sick" so he can spend more time with you.

When he arrived to the kitchen he saw you there, looking for something in the freezer, you were still in pijamas wich was pretty much some shorts and a shirt courtesy of Miguel's closet. He can hear the sizzle of the pans on the stove and the smell of whatever you were cooking.

"What are you doing up? It´s 6:15 am" His voice was low and groggy.

You gave a little jump, you didn´t expected to see him awake you turn to see him with a hand in her chest. "Dios mío Miguel, give me a warning." He just kept looking at her waiting for an answer. "Oh, I´m making a lunch box for Gabriela"

"Why? She eats at school" He look at you more confused

"Oh, well hehe, she told me that last week there was an insect on her smash potatoes"

"Why I didn´t knew about this?" An insect on his daugther´s food!? That was unacceptable, he would definitely change her from school.

"Because she didn´t want to worry you, besides i´m more than happy to cook for her, its not the first time I make her a lunch box, I usually made them in my apartment and bring them to her school in my luch hour" You star packing everything in her lunch box - funny thing: it was from Spiderman-

His eyes never left you, he followed every movement you made until his stomach rumbled in the middle of the silences. You looked at him. "I´m going to start breakfast. Go get ready."

He gave one last look to the lunch box then he turn to you standing in the middle just like a small kid. "Hmmm... Love? Can i get..." he lower his voice.

You turn to see him "You can get what?"

"I said if I could get..." Again. He wisper

"Mi amor habla más fuerte, no te entiendo. ¿Qué necesitas?"

"Que si puedo tener una yo también" He exchange looks between the lunch box and you.

"A lunch box? You want me to make one for you?"

"Yes please"

You couldn't keep yourself from smiling "Claro que si mi amorcito, I can make you one" You grab his face "Go get ready for work"

Minutes later everyone had finished eating Gabi clean the table while Miguel was getting his stuff in the trunk once he was done he told Gabriela to get in the car and wait for him.

He ran back to the kitchen to grab his lunch box in the counter.

"Wait Miguel, you forgot your dessert" You handle him a small box similar to the bigger one which contains the main food only that this one was cold. "Keep it cold until dessert time my love, its a surprise"

"Gracias"

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

He can´t concentrate in work, he was constantly looking to the small freezer that he kept in his office, far from Hobie - he tend to stole his food- checking allmost every minute his watch hoping time moves faster so lunch time could arrive and finaly eat whatever you made him.

Finally lunch time arrived and he enjoy every single bite of his food, he felt like a kid again, eating home food in peace. Once hi finished his food he began to clean everything until he found the small box, he was full but he didn´t care it was his dessert, made by his lovly girlfirend, of course he´s going to eat it.

He opened the box, it took him a while to process what was happening, he grabbed what was inside lifting it up to get a better look. It was a strawberry, a blue one, with something red on it. Once he took a better look he almost let a squeal scape his lips, they were straberries covered in blue chocolate with some marks made with red chocoalte pretending to be his Spiderman mask.

He was definitely going to hide them from Hobie.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

I am begging for any kind of crumbs related to the arranged marriage to Sejanus head cannons please 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Our boy is so smitten <3

Here’s the first part

The more time Sejanus spends with you, the more he can picture your life together. He’s definitely getting ahead of himself, and he doesn’t even know if you have any feelings for him that extend beyond platonic, but he can’t help but fall a little bit in love with you every time he sees you.

The academy students are well known for their teasing and gossip, even if you’d think the best and brightest of Panem would have better things to do than talk about each other all day long. Lately, you and Sejanus have seemed to be the topic of choice, word spreading fast from the rumor mill that is the mothers of the Capital.

Having spent all your life with these kids, you let their comments roll off your back, Sejanus is sensitive, every little quip like a knife to his heart.

“The day Arachne and Festus make me upset is the day that I disappear forever,” you’d told him once, practically dragging him alone as you stomped away from your peers, getting tired of the downcast look in Sejanus’s eyes. All he could focus on in that moment was the way your hand felt in his, and how badly he’d like for you to hold his hand more often.

While most of the time you spend together is at the academy or formal events put together by your parents, you always find an excuse to steal him away, to spend some time with just him in a manner that your parents would find unseemly.

“I know where my father keeps his liquor,” you’d whispered into his ear, and all Sejanus could focus on was the feeling of you impossibly close to him, the sensation of your voice in his ear sending a shiver down his spine. You grab his hand again, gently pulling him from the crowded room and towards your father’s study, where you definitely aren’t allowed.

“We’ll just grab it and go, I promise,” you tell him, sensing his nerves as you ease open the heavy wooden door and disappear inside. It only takes you a second before you reappear, with a bottle in your hand and the most beautiful smile Sejanus has ever seen.

You don’t grab his hand again, even though he wishes you would, but you lead him from the house all the same, passing by your typical spots to make sure no one stumbling from the house will catch the two of you. Passing through a grove of trees, you arrive in a clearing where it would be practically impossible for anyone to find you. Sejanus’s stomach is in knots, a mix of fear of being caught and anxiety at being alone with you.

It’s not that you’re rude or mean or anything like that, you’re almost too lovely for Sejanus to handle. Even before your parents decided to marry you off, you’d always been sweet to Sejanus, sticking up for him against the rest of your peers and going out of your way to make sure he’s feeling alright. It doesn’t help that you’re exceptionally smart and stunningly beautiful, leaving Sejanus reeling every time you look at him.

Now, when you smile at him, a triumphant grin with the liquor bottle in your hand and the moonlight shining across your face, Sejanus could swear he’s never seen anything half as pretty as you. He’d tell you if he wasn’t so nervous, if his voice didn’t get caught in his throat every time he tried to say anything.

Popping off the cap, you take a swig from the bottle before passing it to Sejanus, barely giving him time to process the fact that you’re essentially kissing before holding your hand out for the bottle again. He drinks as quickly as he can, pulling a face as the liquor burns his throat. You laugh, and as much as he wants to join you, his body racks with a cough, only making you laugh harder, liquid sloshing out from the open bottle in your hand.

“Are you trying to poison me?” He asks once he’s recovered, smiling at the way your eyes crease as you take another pull from the bottle.

“We’d both die together, it’d be very romantic,” you take another swig before offering the bottle again, grinning when he waves it away.

Wiping the dirt off the cap, you close up the bottle and set it aside, leaning back on your hands in a way that makes your shoulder brush against Sejanus, sending sparks all across his arm. You tilt your head up to the sky, and feeling certain that he won’t get caught, Sejanus turns his own gaze over to you, admiring the slope of your nose and the curve of your jaw.

He can’t help but want to kiss you, but fearing the moment would be ruined, he settles for just looking at you in this peaceful state, committing your relaxed face to memory. He’s too busy staring to notice the way your eyes shift from the sky over to him, and when you start to smile, he just chalks it up to the liquor.

[cameronspecial]

Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: With Drew's birthday on the horizon, Drew's daughter and wife wanted to do something special for him.

A/N: Happy Birthday to someone who absolutely makes butterflies in my stomach! Hope this day is amazing!

Masterlist

November 4th. The day Josepth Andrew Starkey entered the world thirty years ago. Drew doesn’t like to do anything big for his birthdays. He prefers to spend the day with his family rather than partying in a crowded club with annoying drunks, but for this milestone birthday, his family had other ideas. His daughter wants to make a big deal out of her father’s birthday and has helped her pregnant mother plan a surprise party for him. This has been kept from the man up until the morning of his birthday. Y/N is up earlier than expected because of the tiny kicks the human growing in her uterus is giving her. Her rolling back into bed in a struggle pulls Drew from his dreams of his wife and daughter. “Is mini-me giving you a hard time again?” he whispers, bringing her back into his hold. She nods against his chest, “Yes, the little bugger seems to think my bladder is a kickstand.” Drew gives a small chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then her stomach. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. You only have three more months,” he reassures, rubbing her belly to help soothe her. Her hand finds his, “It’s okay. It will all be worth it in the end. Happy Birthday, my love.” 

She leans over her stomach and kisses him on the lips. He smiles in the kiss, “Thank you. Ugh, I can’t believe I’m thirty. I’m so old.” “No, you aren’t! You are young at heart, love. Just yesterday you were eating an Uncrustable and colouring in a book,” she giggles. The image of yesterday comes to his mind, “I was only doing that because Millie wanted me to do those things with her. Speaking of Millie, what time did you guys go to bed? I swear I felt like I heard you guys up pretty late last night.” In her tiredness and pregnancy fog, Y/N lets the secret slip out of her mouth. “She went to bed at twelve and I was in bed by four I think. I was going over everything for your surprise party so it took me some time because I kept getting hungry and needing to pee.” Her eyes rival the size of the moon when she realizes what she has done, her hand finding way over her mouth. 

Drew chuckles as he processes the words and tries to end her endless apologies, “It’s okay, Sweetheart. You didn’t mean to. You were up late and have a lot on your mind.” “Right. Well, you have to act surprised at the party. Millie is so excited to surprise you; it would crush her if she knew I spoiled it,” Y/N warns, looking him directly in the eye to make sure her point is getting across. Drew gives her a nod, “Got it. I’ll be so surprised that it’s almost like I act for a living.” Y/N giggles at his joke and her smile grows at the pitter-patter of their three-year-old’s footsteps. 

——

Millie shooed her father out of the house right after lunch, sending him with a laundry list of things he needed to do before he got home. As he drove around doing the chores, his heart would warm every time he looked at the non-sensical scribbles that were his daughter's “writing”, which had a translation written by Y/N beside each scribble. Even if he didn’t know about the party, he knew he would gladly do these errands for his girls on his birthday because all he could ever want was to take care of them. 

His hand meets his front door and he takes a second to get into character, almost like he is on set. The handle is pushed down to reveal a dark room, which is suddenly set alight with the screams of ‘surprise’ by his family and friends. He lets his shock show on his face, both hands covering the o-shape of his mouth. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you guys so much,” he thanks the crowd, looking around for his girls. It isn’t long before Millie is running into her father’s arms. “Happy Birthday, Daddy,” she greets him, letting herself be picked up into the air by the older man. He gives her a massive grin, assaulting her cheek with multiple kisses and thanks. “Daddy, your moustache is tickling me,” she complains with joy in her voice. He pulls away, letting the hand not holding up his daughter adjust the dad hat on his head, “I’m sorry, Baby. Maybe Daddy should get rid of his moustache.” 

“No! Mommy likes it. But Daddy… Were you surprised by my party?”

“Yes, I was, Baby. I was so surprised. I love it so much.”

She looks at him in disbelief, “You are lying! You weren’t surprised.” Drew doesn’t know how his acting doesn’t seem to fool his daughter. “No, I’m not. Daddy really was surprised by the party,” he promises, starting to bounce the girl, who is about to cry. “Okay, maybe Mommy accidentally told Daddy, but it’s okay. Daddy still doesn’t know what you have planned for me.” This causes the girl to pause her cries, “Can we have cake now? I want you to see the cake.” Wanting her smile to return to her face, he nods his head, booming to his party guest that it is time for cake. Nobody objects that the cake is being served before dinner or other party activities. Instead, they all gather around the kitchen table and begin to sing the famous song. “Happy Birthday dear Daddy! Happy Birthday to you.” Millie’s loud singing is the one mainly invading his senses. Maybe because of her proximity to him with her being on his lap or maybe because his focus is mainly on her. “Make a wish, Daddy,” she orders. He obeys, blowing on the candles in the form of a thirty.

“What did you wish for?” she questions. Her eyes bore into his with curiosity. He is about to tell her when Y/N speaks up, “If Daddy tells you, Millie, it won’t come true.” Drew shakes his head, smiling down at his daughter. “It’s okay, my wish is already coming true so it can’t hurt to tell. I wished for more happy days with you and Mommy and everyone else that I love.” The crowd awes at how adorable his words are. “And the baby?” Millie clarifies with concern that her father forgot her baby brother or sister. He nods, “And you baby sibling.” He gives her a kiss on the forehead, allowing her to help him with cutting the cake. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[sams-butt-dem0n]

i loved ur hc about breaking up with the gang! could you do the gang breaking up with reader?

The Gang Breaking Up with Reader

DARRY would have the simple excuse of not having enough time for you due to his busy work schedule and taking care of his brothers in the small amount of spare time he had at the end or beginning of each day. You had tried to convince him that you didn't care that the only time you got to spend together was in bed after a long day, but he wasn't having any of it.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I really am. I don't want to do this but it's only fair."

"Darry, how often do I have to tell you that I don't care about you not being here all the time? I enjoy the time we have together already and I know that you're busy and stressed but that's okay. I love you. Please don't do this to me."

"I'm sorry," he repeats, turning to look away from you. "I'm heading off to work in five minutes. I want you out of here before I get back."

SODAPOP would hate to have to break up with you but he feels like it's the right thing to do. It's definitely due to his lack of self-confidence in a relationship since he found out about Sandy cheating on him and moving away. Don't get me wrong, he's confident in his looks and everything but when it comes to relationships, he tends to beat himself up about every tiny detail.

"Y/n, I gotta tell you something," he says, his voice quieter than usual as he stands at your front door.

"Yeah? What's wrong baby?" You ask, confused as to why he was at your house when you were supposed to be at his place in less than an hour.

"Please don't call me that. It'll only make this harder."

You were really confused now. "Huh? Soda what are you talking about?"

"I can't do this anymore." He says, straightforward as ever.

"What?" You ask, tears welling up in your eyes. "Why? What are you doing? Did I do something wrong?"

"I don't know. I don't know if you did something wrong. Tell me if you did won't you?"

"Soda, you sound crazy right now," you say. "Talk to me, don't do this."

"I can't. I just can't How do I know you aren't two-timing me, huh?"

You were shocked at what he just said to you; appalled even. "You think I'd do that to you? You really think that low of me?"

He stays silent. You nod, close your eyes tightly and when you open them again, a single tear rolls down your cheek.

"Stay there," you say, walking away from the door and leaving him standing there for about 5 minutes, wondering if you were ever going to come back.

You dump all of the shirts and jackets and little crafts he'd given you in front of him on your patio and throw a plastic bag at him afterwards.

"I can't believe you think I'd do that," you said. "So much for trust."

PONYBOY was nervous when he realised he wanted to focus more on school than on his relationship. He didn't want to disappoint Darry with his grades dropping since he was with you. He felt as though you held a restriction against him from succeeding even though he knew you weren't in his heart.

"Y/n," he says to you as you're walking him home.

"Yeah?" You ask, turning your head to look at him.

"I- um. I have something to say but I know you won't like it."

"What is it?" You ask. "You can tell me anything, I promise I won't get mad."

"I want to break up." He says, bluntly.

"What?" You ask, stopping dead in your tracks, his house is only a few hundred yards away.

"I need to focus on my schoolwork and you're not letting me do that," he explains, angering you more and more by the second.

"What do you mean I'm not letting you do that? Pony, all we ever do Is read and study whenever we're over at each other's houses," you reply. "And the one day a week where we aren't studying, we spend some time together and out with the gang. Just like everybody else on a Saturday."

"Just respect my decision," he says.

"Respect? Why should I?" You ask, getting angrier by the minute. "You want me to respect you breaking up with me for pretty much no reason because the one you 're giving me makes no sense."

"Just go home," he snaps before turning around and walking away, leaving you standing there, tears rolling down your face.

DALLAS would break up with you right after he gets out of the cooler. He had convinced himself you were cheating on him with Sodapop, similar to Sylvia. You had gone over to Buck's the second you had found out he was free again and walked in with a huge smile beaming across your face. However, when you opened the door, Buck gave you the dirtiest look he could before mumbling something under his breath and watching you walk past him and up the stairs. Weird.

"Hey, Dal!" You exclaim, opening the door and jumping onto his, wrapping your arms around him. "I missed you."

Usually, he would hug you back and kiss you on the head, telling you how much he had missed you too; even when he was only in there for a couple of nights. This time, he shoves you away from him, anger displayed across his face.

"Dal?" You ask, confused. "What's wrong? Did something happen while you were in the cooler?"

"You tell me, y/n. You tell me what happened," he says, snarling at you.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done anything. At least, I don't think I have," you say, trying to think if you had done anything wrong in the three weeks he had been gone.

"Don't pull that shit!" He yells, scaring you and making you jump a little. "I know what you did, you little whore! I know you fucked him!"

What the fuck was this guy talking about. "What!? I didn't fuck anybody! I haven't had sex since a few nights before you got done in, and that was with you."

"Oh, bullshit!"

"Who did I fuck then, huh? Who are you convinced that I slept with?" You ask, yelling in his face, hurt in your eyes.

"Soda."

You almost laugh in his face but remember that probably would be the smartest thing to do.

"Seriously? Soda?" You say. "You really think I would do something like that? How could you?"

"How could I?" He yells. "How could you! You fucked my friend!"

You shook your head and scoffed. "I don't know why I bother. You're clearly not listening to me and you don't want to believe me. Ask Soda about it and then you'll see that I have not laid a finger on him."

JOHNNY breaks up with you after weeks of weighing up the pros and cons. He felt that you were too good for him and someone with a life as messed up as his doesn't deserve someone as perfect and as gorgeous as you.

"Johnny?" You ask, seeing a figure lying on the concrete in the lot as you're walking home late from the drive-in. "Is that you?"

"Y/n," he says. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" You smile, helping him up onto a bench, sitting beside him and holding his hand. "You have no reason to apologise."

"I do, though," he says, hesitating before continuing. "I can't keep doing this."

"What do you mean?" You ask, worry clouding your eyes.

"I can't keep doing this. I'm constantly embarrassing you when we're out together; I can tell that people make fun of you for dating me. I'm nowhere near good enough for you. I can't sit here and watch you waste your life away for someone like me. You deserve some rich, fancy soc like Randy or Bob."

"Johnny, what the hell are you talking about?" You say, letting go of his hand. "I love you more than anything. I don't care what anybody else thinks and if you think that I should then why? Why should I care? if they saw you the way that I do then they'd all understand."

"I've made up my mind," he says, not bothering to look you in the eyes as he gets up, his back facing you. "And there's nothing you can say to change it."

With that, he walks away, leaving you sat on the bench with hot tears streaming down your cheeks, leaving red lines on the skin. Cold. Lonely. And confused.

STEVE has some trouble with girls. He always ends up saying the wrong thing and, similar to Johnny, he feels that you are way too good for him to treat you the way that he knows he eventually will. He knows damn well that one day, you'll get sick of him being a dick and leave him anyway, just like everyone else. So why bother waiting until then when he could just end it right now?

The phone rings. "Hello?" You say, picking it up after a couple of dials.

"Hey, babydoll," Steve says, his voice making you smile.

"Hi, handsome," you reply. "What can I do for ya?"

"I have to talk to you about something," he says. "But I want you to hear me out first."

"O...kay?" You say, confused about what is about to happen. "Am I in trouble?"

"No," he chuckles. "But I know I will be soon."

Your smile drops. What is he doing?

"Firstly, I want to tell you how much I love you. I think you are the most amazing woman I have ever met and I want you to know that this is not your fault and I have loved every moment with you." He says, making a tear form in your eye. You know what he's doing.

"Steve," you whisper.

He never shows his emotions like this. the most he's ever said to you is that he loves you and thinks that you're the most gorgeous broad he's ever seen. He has never admitted his feelings this extremely before.

"I can't let you be with me anymore. I don't want to be a part of your life anymore. I know I'll just ruin it. I'll be over tomorrow morning to pick up my stuff. I love you, y/n."

He hangs up. You hold the phone to your ear and drown in the continuous beep of the ending line. You had never been so hurt in your life.

TWOBIT breaks up with you because he finds someone else. I know this makes him out to be a bad person but I feel like he has so much love for you but when he meets this other girl, he knows that if he loved you as much as he thought he did, she wouldn't have sparked so much interest.

"Two," you say, looking up at him. "Who's Kathy?"

He lowers his head, looking at his hands in his lap. "Shit, baby."

"Just tell me," you say, a tear falling onto your cheek.

"She's a girl I met a few weeks ago," he admits. "I bumped into her at the dingo while I was waiting for you and the gang and I realised that I liked her. I'm so sorry"

"Do you love her?" You ask.

"What?" He says, looking at you with watering eyes himself.

"You heard me," you say. "Do you love her, Kieth?"

You only ever called him Kieth when you were upset or angry. Right now, you were both.

He nods, "I think so."

You say nothing and stand up, picking up your bag, putting your shoes on and taking one last look at him. One last look at the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. The man who had made you so much happier in the three years of dating you had been through.

And you leave. Never to speak to him or your friends, the gang, ever again.

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Thanksgiving, idiots in love, and unwelcome encounters in the parking lot.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Content Warning! This chapter contains sexual harassment (grabbing at clothes, derogatory name calling).

Thank you so much @hellfire--cult for the adorable Converse divider🥹

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Part 6

Thanksgiving Day, 1983

Eddie had a lot of things to worry about today, but right now he was most worried about whether or not the mac & cheese he’d slaved over all morning would taste like shit. 

His sweaty hands clutched the dish towel-wrapped baking dish for dear life and mentally rolled through all of the ingredients he had read on that clipping from the Southern Living magazine he’d grabbed from the grocery store. It wasn’t as if he’d never cooked before- he could make a mean grilled cheese, and if something came in a box he hadn’t found a way to fuck it up yet. This time, however, he’d been a little out of his element. 

Wayne had been excited to finally have a use for the casserole dish that had been sitting in a cabinet unused for so long that Eddie hadn’t even known it existed. Currently, he sat relaxed in the drivers’ seat of his pickup smiling smug as hell even though Eddie had assured him multiple times that he was not about to meet Eddie’s girlfriend… just a friend. 

No matter how much Eddie tried to hammer that point into Wayne’s skull, however, he still smiled that stupid knowing grin every time your name came up in conversation, as if he knew something Eddie didn’t. 

“You seem nervous.” Wayne commented, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead as he lazily turned the truck into your neighborhood. 

Eddie glared at the tin foil topped dish in his lap. “Well, I’ve never made this recipe before, I keep picturing everyone taking a bite and immediately spitting it into their napkins.”

Wayne snorted, shaking his head softly and guiding the steering wheel with one hand. “Son, it’s pasta and cheese. Pretty hard to mess that up too bad.” 

“Yeah, well…” Eddie harrumphed. “I’m sure I found a way somehow.”

Wayne smiled softly at his nephew’s smitten nerves, parking the pickup with a jerky stop at the curb of your house. “505, right? This is the one?”

“Yeah.” 

Watching smugly as Eddie stared out the window at your house, Wayne waited about four seconds before he asked, “Are you gonna get out of the car today, or…?”

Cue the sound of the car door opening and Eddie grumbling a sassy muttered retort of I’m going old man, calm down, or something along those lines. Wayne pretended not to catch it. 

You opened the door before Wayne and Eddie could even get to the door, and when Eddie’s eyes landed on you? His uncle could just tell. The smile that exploded on his nephew’s face was all it took.

“Oh here, let me take that-”

“No, no, it’s fine Ace, I got it.” Eddie reassured you, swooping the casserole dish away from your eager hands. He nodded in Wayne’s direction, directing you to do the same as he introduced the only family member of his that you’d heard of at all in your time as friends. “This is my Uncle Wayne.” 

Your eyes shone, welcoming and warm, and Wayne understood in an instant how you’d had such an effect on Eddie in less than a year. Since he’d started spending time with you, Eddie Munson had become the kind of young man who did his homework without being asked. He’d even gotten a job at the mall of all places and gave a portion of his earnings to his uncle to help with living expenses. 

None of the things Wayne had always loved about Eddie had gone away- the changes he’d seen in his nephew were all additions to a personality that he’d always known would take him far in life if he could just surround himself with those who brought out the best in him. People who saw that spark of Munson Magic and knew how to fan it.

Wayne could now confirm that you were one of those people.

He took your hand in his weathered and wrinkled one, pouring his approval of you into a firm and fatherly handshake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, young lady.” He gestured to Eddie with a conspiratorial nod. “Nice to put a face to the name, all he does is talk about you.”

“Brrrrr, it’s cold out here!” Eddie interrupted his uncle with a hand on your back to steer you away from Wayne and into the house. “Are you cold? You look cold, we don’t need to stand out here yapping when you’re cold.” 

You smiled, following Eddie’s lead but tossing a look over your shoulder at Wayne like it was a shared secret. 

Eddie had already met your parents, so greetings were warm and familiar once the three of you had reached the foyer. Wayne was introduced to both your mom and dad before your mom noticed Eddie had brought an offering for the table.

“Edward Munson, if I’m about to find out you’re not only a shoe designer but also a cook, I might just have to extend a standing invitation for all future holidays!”

“Shoe designer?” Wayne raised an eyebrow. 

You chuckled, pointing your foot out for him to see your white (now turned a bit duller from wearing them every day) Chuck Taylors, completely covered in idle drawings from Eddie’s inability to sit still. 

Wayne gawked at the artwork on your shoes; he’d always known that Eddie was talented, but this was the first time in a long time that Wayne had really stopped and looked at his nephew’s art. The detail, the use of space and composition- it was clear that Eddie knew not only how to draw, but he had an eye for how to make his art look like it belonged on its canvas. Even otherworldly monsters- sea creatures, dragons, demonic ghouls and ghostly images- looked at home on your well-loved high tops. 

“You drew all this, Ed?”

Eddie smiled shyly, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Ah, they’re just doodles. This one over here figured out I pay better attention in class when I’m doing something with my hands. Helps me listen better.” Finally, his trademark grin reappeared, shyness replaced with snark. “Now I’m the one helping her in class.”

“All the times I’ve had to kick you so you don’t fall asleep in O’Donnell’s beg to differ.” You replied, rolling your eyes at him. This brought a good-natured ripple of laughter from everyone in the room. You all felt it- the ease with which familiarity settled in the air amongst you. Eddie felt it most of all, since he wasn’t quite accustomed to the particular familial feel of it. 

He might have been, once. But it’s been a while. 

A second later and your mom had whisked Eddie into the kitchen to set his dish down on a trivet and sent him into the living room with a steaming cup of wassail in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other.

“There was enough food in there to feed an army,” Eddie said, bemused as he sat down next to you on the couch. “Does she know there are only five of us?” 

You toed off your shoes and let them fall to the ground before crossing your legs up on the green ottoman, fuzzied soft with wear from years of love. You leaned closer to Eddie, eyes fixed on his plate of goodies as you began to pick pieces of fruit and cheese for yourself. 

“Mom grew up with a big family,” you said, popping a juicy red grape into your mouth. “All the family recipes make enough for six at least. She could probably cut the recipes in half… but I think cooking all this food reminds her of home.” you smiled tenderly and shrugged. “We usually freeze the leftovers, but since you and your uncle are here I doubt we’ll even have to open a freezer bag. We’ll just send leftovers home with you!”

Eddie liked the sound of that. 

An hour or so passed before you all sat down to share your meal, and Eddie was amazed how quickly his nerves had dissipated in that time. The two of you sat cozied up on the couch, munching on fruit, cheese and deviled eggs. Your dad had offered Wayne a beer, and the two of them sat watching football in front of the TV until your mom gave the all-call for dinner. 

Everyone loaded up their plates, remarked on how good the food looked, thanked your mom for all of the hard work that went into today’s meal. This was quickly followed by a pointed thank you from your mother to Eddie for the “best mac ‘n cheese I’ve ever had” according to her. He was pretty sure she was just being nice, but he didn’t care. Her smile was still contagious- one of those ‘I love you no matter what’ mom smiles.

He’d forgotten about those.

He’d also forgotten what it was like to sit at a dining room table with more than three people. For a second, he’d been worried that you were all about to hold hands and pray, which wouldn’t have been ideal since all Eddie could remember about the dinner prayer was “bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts,” and he didn’t want to embarrass himself. 

But there wasn’t a prayer. This wasn’t a test he’d forgotten to study for, just a meal where Mom and Dad and Uncle were all happy he was here, happy each other were here. That was new. And when your dad asked Eddie how school was going, for once he had nothing but good things to report. He’d gotten a 95 on his last English test. For the first time since sophomore year, he wasn’t failing a single class. And when your dad said “Glad to hear you’re doing well, son.” Eddie felt you squeeze his thigh lightly, just above his knee. He saw Wayne smiling proudly out of the corner of his eye.

Eddie could get used to this. 

Conversation flowed easily in your family; no one felt the need to talk about the weather or ask arbitrary questions, and thankfully nobody decided that “we should go around the table and all say something we’re thankful for!”. There wasn’t a need for it. None of you needed to say it out loud to know you were all thankful for each other. For this. 

By the time dessert came around, Eddie started to think he might be dreaming. Apparently, you were the one always in charge of dessert in your household. And while he’d grown very acquainted with your chocolate chip cookies, he hadn’t been adequately prepared for your pecan pie. Or your chocolate & peanut butter sheet cake. Or the chocolate pudding/cool whip/cookie crumb whatever-it-was that you’d spooned onto his dessert plate. 

Could a person become delirious after consuming too much sugar? Eddie wasn’t sure if it was sugar that was causing him to start wondering what you’d look like making all these desserts in a kitchen that you both paid rent for, or if that was just him. It was probably the sugar.

As soon as Eddie was shoveling his last bite into his mouth, he was looking over to see if you had any left for him to mooch off of you. Your plate was empty- scraped clean, even- and then you were grabbing his empty plate and standing to take them into the kitchen. Eddie was about to pout when you looked at him knowingly and asked, “You want seconds? I’m getting seconds.”

It wasn’t the sugar. Eddie wanted to know what your signatures looked like together on a lease. And Eddie couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to finally admit to himself that he’d been nursing a crush on you since… when had it started? Eddie wasn’t sure. Somewhere between seventh grade history class and this very moment, he figured. 

He looked up at you from his seat, mouth still stuffed with pie crust and cool whip, and smiled when he noticed how pretty you looked in that sweater you were wearing. It was red- you wore red a lot, he realized. Had you always worn red this often?

You giggled, poking his cheek. “You look like a chipmunk when you smile like that.” 

His eyes followed you as you disappeared into the kitchen, and when Eddie caught a glimpse of the way Wayne was grinning at him? Well, his blush was a deeper shade of scarlet than your sweater.

The smile stayed, though. Even a punch to the jaw couldn’t knock that off Eddie’s face.

“I wanna take you out.” 

It had taken Eddie what felt like ages to finally ask you. You were both at school, and he had been thinking about it and thinking about it and ramping himself for weeks to just grow a pair and ask you. The question had sounded smoother in his head, but now he thought he sounded vaguely frightening- sharper and more desperate than he’d hoped.

You blanched, eyes wide and mouth open to a little “O” shape that made Eddie’s heart flutter. 

You were so cute. How had he ever ignored it?

You grinned a little, “Take me out like… assassination, take me out, or…?” 

“No,” Eddie shook his head, laughing nervously, “I mean like, out. To a place. Or multiple places, if you want.” He was jumpy, his hands switching from his pockets to the strap of his backpack, to his hair, to the fraying edges of the friendship bracelet you’d tied around his wrist in July. 

“So when you say take me out, you mean like… on a date?”

There it was. You’d said it, that word. Date. It was out in the open now. 

You’d put the ball in Eddie’s court, and he should be happy about it. This was how it was supposed to be, right? He needed to be a man, take control, take the lead. But unfortunately, it had taken the majority of his bravery just to initiate this conversation.

“Do you want it to be a date?”

Just like that, he passed the ball to you. Eddie cursed himself, waiting anxiously for your response, completely at your mercy.

You looked down at your shoes covered in his doodles, at the red plaid of your flannel that you wore because you’d bought it in hopes that if he started to associate you with his favorite color, he might like you more. Like you the way you liked him.

You couldn’t say the words either… couldn’t speak them into existence without fear of sounding too desperate, too eager. So instead, you nodded yes to your doodle covered shoes and smiled at the dragon he’d drawn on the left toe.

Eddie beamed- inwardly, of course. Couldn’t let you see exactly how happy he was that you felt the same as him- he needed to be calm, to be cool. Girls liked calm and cool.

 “Then it’s a date, Sweet Tart.” He ached to sling a triumphant arm over your shoulder, but shoved his sweating hands into his pockets instead. 

You snuck a glance at Eddie, your smile refusing to leave no matter how cool you were trying to appear. Be cool, don’t act too desperate, you chided yourself. 

“It’s a date.” you repeated, beaming up at him. “When were you thinking?”

“Well,” Eddie shrugged as you both came to a stop by your locker. “Finals are next week and then we’re off for Christmas break, so I should be able to pencil you in for next Saturday night.” He leaned against the adjacent lockers, a smug smile shining down on you. 

“Pencil me in, huh?” you giggled, replacing the notebooks and folders from your last class with your supplies for the next. “I’m flattered you could fit me into your busy schedule.”

“If there’s one thing my schedule always has room for, it’s you, Ace.” 

Swooning. That was the only word for what those words made you do. You weren’t sure if Eddie was aware of the effect he had on you, but you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to help it if he was. 

You were actually grateful for your final exams the following week- they gave you something to focus on other than your date with Eddie. Which meant that the moment you’d finished your last exam on Friday, that date was the only thing on your mind.

Your date with Eddie. The words alone were enough to make you smile to yourself. You’d been harboring this crush on him for the better part of this year, and now he asks you on a date? Was it possible that he had felt the same way all this time? 

“You sure you’re cool if I don’t stay for the whole session tonight?” you’d asked Eddie as he’d prepared for Hellfire that afternoon, triple-checking that he wasn’t upset. It had become a routine for the two of you- your weekly presence as the one and only audience member for Hellfire’s in-game escapades. 

“Cool as a cucumber, Ace.” Eddie had replied, “You took three exams today, for crying out loud. Go take a nap.” 

When you finally conceded, he’d walked you from the gameplay table to the door, even going so far as to hold it open for you. Then, to your surprise, he’d taken your hand in his and brought it to his lips. 

“Go rest up.” He’d muttered, low enough so only you could hear. Then he’d brushed his lips against the back of your fingers, and you’d just about melted on the spot. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 8, Sweet Tart.”

Your hand still tingled as you thought about the feel of his lips on your skin. Now, you wanted that feeling everywhere. 

Your body was on autopilot as you made your way through the school parking lot; slushed, muddy snow sat piled up in corners and untouched patches at the edges of the lot from the on-again off-again winter precipitation over the December weeks. Your booted feet marched on toward your car, your mind entirely occupied by thoughts of tomorrow. 

You were so distracted by that thought that you didn’t notice who was waiting for you, leaned up against the trunk of your car.

“Hey there, firecracker.” 

You stopped short when your eyes snapped up to see Alan, along with a couple guys from the basketball team. Their faces were pure predatory malice as Alan eyed you up and down. 

You paused a moment, your heart rate picking up a notch when you realized just how empty the parking lot was, given the hour that had passed since the final bell. 

“I have to get home.” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the driver side door and making your best attempt to brush past the jock leaned up directly beside it, but to no avail. 

“Not so fast, you little freak.” Alan stepped into your path, a cruel smile creasing his freckled face. “We just wanted to chat!”

“You,” your voice betrayed every ounce of disbelief that you felt looking up at the meathead blocking your path to your own vehicle. “-want to chat. With me?”

“I know, I know, you’re flattered-”

“I’m not.” 

“Well you should be.” Alan peered down at you with frigid eyes. “Lord knows no guy will ever want to be seen with you now that the Freak’s got his claws in you.” 

You felt a surge of indignant fire seep into your gaze. “Piss off, asshole.” You attempted to shove past him, but Alan took a step toward you, throwing off your balance. You had to grab the bumper of the car beside you to keep from falling over, clutching at the books in your arms to avoid dropping them onto the icy pavement below. 

“I even heard he branded you.” Alan’s hot breath sent an unwelcome shiver over your skin. “Sherrie said she saw you in the locker room with… some kind of symbol… on your upper thigh, I believe?”

A biting breeze whooshed past you, but you didn’t feel it- your body had already gone ice cold. 

“Sherrie’s lying.”

“You know, I don’t think she is.” Alan’s hands crept closer toward you, ghosting fingertips across the fabric of your skirt. “But if you want to prove it to us…”

You felt your stomach drop when one of Alan’s friends stepped behind you, boxing you in. They were like vultures- to them, you were already down for the count. Ready to be picked at and preyed upon.

Slapping Alan’s hand away, you attempted once again to squeeze past him and his goons, anxious for the safety of your driver’s seat and a locked door between you and them. Unfortunately, Alan had other plans. 

“Come on,” he crooned, “girls don’t get tattoos unless they want people to see them. Go ahead and show us.”

“Go. Away.” you gritted through your teeth. 

“The Freak’s seen it, hasn't he?” Alan pressed, his hand grasping the fabric of your skirt in his fist. “What, you’ll slut yourself out for him, but not us?”

“What the fuck are you dickheads doing?” 

You’d never been so thankful to hear Robin’s voice in your life. 

Alan sneered at the unfamiliar sophomore, subtly letting go of your skirt. “Who the hell are you?” 

Robin marched up to the boy standing behind you, powering her glare with just enough ferocity that he actually moved aside. Grabbing your shoulders, Robin pulled you a good five feet from Alan and looked you square in the eye. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, pulling your car keys from the pocket of your backpack. You were anxious for something tangible to fidget with, something to ground you in where you stood, away from Alan and his wandering hands.

Once she was sure you were alright, Robin turned the full force of her fury on the boys that stood around your car. 

“Mr. Dunne was right behind me on his way out here, so unless you want me to tell him that I just found you groping a female student, I suggest you scram.” 

You saw Alan weighing his options for a moment, but eventually he stuck his hands in the pockets of his letter jacket and- thankfully- took his leave. 

“Whatever, freaks.” he muttered, strolling away like a brat who had grown up believing himself to be invincible in a system that agreed with him.  

It wasn’t until the two of you were both sitting in your car and safe behind locked doors that you finally let out the breath you’d evidently been holding. “Fuck him.” you huffed. “Fuck. Him.”

“Fuck him.” Robin agreed with an emphatic nod of her head. “Has he ever even talked to you before? That seemed… super random, honestly, I’ve never even seen him look in your direction.” 

“I may have picked a fight with him after I heard him call Eddie and I freaks in class not too long ago.” you winced, remembering how brazen you’d been that day… you’d been so bold, so fearless, but that girl was nowhere to be seen today. Instead, you’d frozen like a cornered fox surrounded by hounds. It made you feel so small, you thought you might be sick. You hated feeling this way.

“Apparently,” you continued, “his girlfriend saw my tattoo in the locker room. He said he wanted to see it for himself.” 

Robin had been the first person- and only person- you’d shown your little bat to after Halloween. She’d been pretty impressed… after she’d stopped worrying about it getting infected, of course. 

“First- ew. Gross.” Robin grimaced. “Second- are you telling me you just change in the locker room with that thing out in the open?” 

“I’m usually super careful about keeping it hidden!” you argued, “But it is a possibility that I might have been a little rushed to get to my next class at some point… I guess I wasn’t careful enough.”

A short silence settled while you mentally kicked yourself. I should have known this would happen. How could I be so careless? 

“Well,” Robin started, suddenly chipper. You knew this tone; she was about to try and cheer you up. Good luck, Rob. 

“You’re going to drive me to your house and then we’re baking cookies and watching whatever movie you want.” 

While you were still far from what you would consider over what just happened, your interest was definitely piqued. “Whatever movie I want?” you countered. 

Robin sighed. “I know what you’re about to ask, and yes, we can watch The Dark Crystal.”

The beginnings of a smile stretched across your face. “And you won’t call any of the puppets creepy at any point?”

“Let’s not go that far.” she deadpanned. “I will watch it, I will eat cookies, and I will not suggest that we turn it off before the movie is over. This is my final offer.”

For Robin, that was a pretty good deal. Your beginnings of a grin had graduated to a full-on smile as you took her hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. “You’re a good friend.”

She returned your smile, and squeezed your hand back before letting go to buckle her seatbelt. “I’m a great friend. Now start driving, I’m hungry and we’re stopping for french fries.”

Part 7

Taglist: @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92, @melodymishahiddlestan , @sadlittlesquish, @clarafornerlyknownasclaire-blog , @stylesxmunson , @fishwithtitz , @elvendria , @carrotbunnies21 , @the-unforgivenn , @munson-blurbs, @writinginthetwilight, @ghost-proofbaby , @hellfire--cult

I added a few people to the taglist who’ve shown an interest in the series or have been my sounding boards during the writing process for this story. Hope y’all don’t mind!😊❤️

[gambleofstars]

Lucifer HCs with Lust Sin!Reader (amab, gn)

₍ ⌨ ᶻᶻᶻ gambleofstars is typing ... ₎

ପ(๑•̀ᴗ•̀)* NOTICE: this post is NSFW, so minors do not interact.

tags: sub!lucifer ; NSFW ; gn reader ; handjob ; hickeys/biting ; tender & gentle ; size difference

↳ ❝ [a/n: LISTEN. listen. i love ozzie to death but i really wanted to see how this would play out, so... purely self indulgent :3 also, writing sub!lucifer is a drug and i want more. also yeah, i made the reader taller again before you're in my house ;) enjoy yourself ] ¡! ❞

𓆩♡𓆪 To simply put: you are a menace.

𓆩♡𓆪 You usually spend your days at the Lust Ring, naturally. Doing your daily tasks, taking care of things, etc. And of course, enjoy your night to the fullest.

𓆩♡𓆪 At some point though, maybe around midnight, you get a bottle of your favorite wine and one of just grape juice; then take your private portal (courtesy of who you're visiting) to the Pride Ring.

𓆩♡𓆪 This, is where Lucifer's struggles begin.

𓆩♡𓆪 He looks back at you in the doorway of this bedroom with an unimpressed look on his face as you sway your tail back and forth with a delighted smile.

𓆩♡𓆪 (Though he does appreciate you bringing non-alcoholic drink for him)

𓆩♡𓆪

"Yeah, yeah.. Come in, make yourself at home" Lucifer rolls his eyes "As always"

You hum, amused "Oh Lu, dearest, you act like you don't enjoy my visits" you set the bottles on the small table near his balcony and sit down. The slight breeze made the sheer curtains sway.

Sheer, like Lucifer's night robe. With feathers at the cuffs and the ends, truly as dramatic as him; pink and pretty. It flutters like waves across the floor as he brings two glasses from a nearby display cabinet.

He sighs "It's not that.." he trails off and you see his eyes go into that place they sometimes do - somewhere you can't follow. Before silence can get awkward, he opens the wine bottle and pours you a drink.

You can't help but smile to yourself; always in little things, you can see how much this adorable angel treasures pleasing others.

"Did something happen?" you finally question, swirling the wine a bit before sipping.

You observe his every reaction: the way his hand falters with the bottle of juice, his eyes dart around for a split second, his breath gets caught in his throat - Yeah, something is up for sure.

"No! Um- no..." he mumbles and takes a swing of his juice.

Oh you silly little man. You reach over to him, cradling his small face easily with the palm of your hand "Little star, what troubles you?" you keep your voice low, afraid to startle the delicate atmosphere.

He leans into your touch and sighs in defeat "Just bad memories is all... Today marks 7 years since-" it looks like the said memory gets too painful to think about and makes him close his eyes: almost like he was hiding from it.

Lilith. Honestly, you two never really interacted, but they seemed happy together, but now was not the time for questioning.

Instead, you sigh deeply and get up. Before Lucifer can protest your missing touch, you grab his glass and set in on the table; it's easy to scoop him up into a bridal style and carry him to the bed. Meanwhile he looks up at you with those round, curious eyes.

"It pains me to see you so" you explain and settle comfortably on the soft covers and pillows, cradling Lucifer to lay mostly on you. You kiss his golden hair "Such precious little angel you are, pretty like a true star. This sadness is unsuited for your beautiful face."

He looks down, almost ashamed, but you assure him with another kiss - on his cheek this time "I blame you not for this, darling"

You both lay in a comfortable silence for a while, as you stroke his hair and leave butterfly kisses on his face. After a bit of thinking, you decide to comfort him in a way you know best - and in what you specialize in.

"Darling, would you let me soothe you?" you ask quietly.

He knows what you mean - you two regularly meet up for this type of thing after all. With the vulnerable state of his mind, you know it's asking a lot for him to trust you, so you wait with bated breath.

He nods with unshed tears sparkling in his eyes, looking up at you like you're his one and only savior. Oh to savor this sweet thing, all doe and delicate, like a doll.

You'll make sure those bad memories will be at the very back of his mind for tonight.

"Ah! Oh-!" the king squirms against your hold on his hip, but to no avail. Your other hand has a gentle hold on his cock, stroking it from time to time - being just a tad bit mean to hear more of those cute little noises.

You're sure your claws will leave indents on his hips, but they'll heal soon enough (you can't help but be a bit displeased). His porcelain skin is littered with red and purple bite marks, all of which has caused him to moan and whine.

He's arching his back and clutching with both of his hands at the pillow, thrashing his head against it. All the sensations are clearly overwhelming him, but he's enjoying every second of it.

Both of your hands move up to his lithe waist and you switch your positions. You sit against the pillows and place him on your lap, so that he's straddling your thighs.

"H-huh?" Luficer's brain seemed to slow down, but he soon adjusted himself to his comfort; his hands clutched onto your dress-shirt and he rested his face onto your chest, gluing himself to you. You couldn't help but swing one arm over his shoulders to hold him close.

"Feels so- ah!?" you didn't even let him finish his sentence before starting to stroke him again - harder and faster this time, holding him tighter when he started to squirm again "I c-can't!- oh! ah! Don't stop! Please please please!"

There was no need for begging but you weren't going to complain.

You pulled back a bit to see his face, almost glittery cheeks and rosy lips; you lean down to kiss him - as deep and sensual as you can. You want him to know that you are his savior and you will never leave his side. Not like her.

He whimpers into the kiss like he knows your intentions, bucking up against you, desperate. Now he's the one cradling your face and looking you deep in your eyes when you separate. They speak so much, yet none of the words leave his lips. Not yet.

Soon enough, his eyes roll back and he collapses back onto your chest, losing his thrusting rhythm and chasing his climax. Cute little ah! ah! ah!s are forced out of him and one very adorable high pitched whine when he finally cums.

You let him lay there, catch his breath, as you rub his shoulders to chase away any tension in them. He looks up, almost looking startled "But wait! Y-you... Don't you..?"

You laugh and kiss his forehead "No darling, this night is about you and I can't be more delighted" you slowly pick him up and make your way towards the bath room.

You've spend many nights riddled with mind-numbing ecstasy before, but these tender nights - those that end with being in a warm, bubbly bath with Lucifer - will forever be your favorite.

hehe :3 how was it? i feel like it would do good with more parts? or should i just leave it like a one-shot? meh, let's see if inspiration strikes again

signing off, gambi