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motorsportbarbie13 · 8 months ago

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The Yapping Hour is Upon Us

In which Max decides that maybe doing interviews isn't such a bad thing.

Warnings: jos verstappen mention ew Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.5k plus social media posts

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TheYappingHour posted:

349,219 likes liked by redbullracing, charlesleclerc, and others TheYappingHour Back at it this week with a very super top secret special guest. I simply can't wait to reveal who's on this weeks pod, you guys! You're going to DIE. (peep the clue in the second picture!) user928 her podcast set up is so aesthetic i can't user0928 RED BULL??? what does this meeeeeean??? >>>user1211 she hasn't done a ton of athletes in the past, maybe she got one of the Red Bull athletes!! user00291 DU DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN. (shhh let me be delulu for a minute) >>>user221 as much as i'd love that, we all know how much Max hates interviews.

There was absolutely no reason why having Max Verstappen on your podcast should be making you this nervous. You’ve interviewed actual heads of state, a former president, and royalty for crying out loud and you’re losing your mind over Max fucking Verstappen? You supposed it came from the fact that you had spent most of your childhood traveling from track to track to watch your dad race in NASCAR, racing was in your blood and you knew how revered and idolized Max was. And how rabid his fans could get. You wanted to get this interview right. Needed to get this interview right. Motorsport were still a huge part of your life, even if you weren’t really outwardly an active fan. You never missed a NASCAR or F1 race and while you considered yourself a Ferrari girlie, Red Bull was most certainly your second team.

“Everything ready?” Your assistant Shannon pokes her head in as you fluff the last throw pillow on the cream colored lounge chair. Scanning the room, everything looks to be in order. The two overstuffed chairs dominate the center of the small recording studio, each with a microphone set up on a small side table next to each chair. Instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs floated out of small speakers tucked away and a few candles burned in the low light of the studio, creating the exact ambiance you were famous for.

You’d been doing your podcast, The Yapping Hour, for nearly five years now and it was now one of the most popular podcasts being produced. You specialized in relaxed interviews of people that the general public don’t get to see relaxed very often. Your big break had come about 3 years ago when you had somehow managed to land an interview with Michelle Obama, her episode was still the most streamed episode of yours to date. Everyone had fallen in love with your interview style, how you got these normally highly media trained individuals to drop their guard down a little and be real for even just an hour. It gave people such a unique glimpse behind the curtain of fame and your fans ate up every bit of it.

“I think so!” You nod, smoothing down the front of your boyfriend cut jeans even though the denim is perfectly ironed without a single wrinkle.

“Good, because he just pulled in the parking lot.” Shannon smirks. She knows how nervous you are for this interview and is insisting it’s because you have a crush on the driver. Which would utterly unprofessional if it were true. But it wasn’t true. At all. “And he’s driving this matte black Aston Martin.” She closes her eyes as she bites her lip, smirk growing even wider.

“Okay, let’s cool it on the hero worship.” You warn, following Shannon out into the lobby of the building.

Outside, it’s a dreary late April morning in the heart of downtown London. You had traveled from your home base in New York City just for this interview but had been surprised at how much you liked the ambiance and energy in the city. So much so that you had extended your stay a few extra weeks. The good thing about being your own boss of a podcast was that you could literally work from anywhere you had your laptop.

Peering out into the parking lot, you’re surprised to see a lone figure in jeans and what looked to be a Red Bull windbreaker, hustling across the pavement towards the door. When he approaches the door, Shannons steps forward to open the door, a gust of wind whipping at your hair when Max comes bustling in through the doors.

“Hello!” Max’s voice sends involuntary shivers down your spine, a feeling you fight hard to shove down. This is not the time to be a fan girl, you remind yourself.

“Hi Max, thank you so much for joining us today! Can I get you some water or maybe some tea?” Shannons steps forward first, extending her hand.

Max takes it and gives her a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Water is fine, thanks.”

“Max, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” You step forward then, the heels of your black Louboutain’s clicking on the hardwood floor as you approach him. It takes every ounce of focus you have not to react at what feels like a white hot spark flickering over your skin when his hand touches yours for the first time.

“Pleasure is mine.” He murmurs, cat like smirk replacing the warm smile that had greeted Shannon. Your social media did you absolutely no justice and Max was finding it hard to keep his composure you were so pretty.

“Are we waiting on anyone else or is it just you today?” You ask, eyes darting above his shoulder to see if there was anyone still in the parking lot.

“Why? Will I be needing my body guard today?” He quips as he follows you towards the recording studio.

You pray the dim lights in the studio hide the way you’ve gone pink. “Of course not! It’s just that normally the people I have on the show travel with an…entourage.”

“I don’t like people.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious fact in the universe. “I prefer to travel solo. Besides, I’m no Queen of the Netherlands or Justin Trudeau, I don’t really need an entourage.”

He casually drops two of your biggest interviews like it’s nothing and you feel the pink tinge of your cheeks heat to a crimson red. “You’ve listened to the show then?”

He nods, taking the seat you offer him as Shannon and your AV guy Steve bustle around getting things set up. A bottle of water appears for each of you and you take out the pages of notes you’ve made even though you’ve got all the questions memorized. You like to be prepared and prefer your interviews to be more conversational, less question and answer.

“I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” His eyes hold this glint of mischief that if you were less of a professional, would have you biting your lip and kicking your feet. Truth was, Max had spent an ungodly amount of time on your socials and wikipedia page, obsessing over you and your career.

“And yet you still came.” You tease.

“I did.” He says simply and you can’t help but notice how his gaze briefly drops from your eyes down to your lips and quickly back up. It’s so quick that if you weren’t in the business of watching and observing people, you probably would have missed it. But those baby blue eyes of Max’s are so easy to read, all you can do is grin back at him.

“Well, thank you for making the trek into London today. I do appreciate it.”

You briefly explain how the interview is going to work, how Steve is going to make sure everything is set up and recording, how you’ll post audio and video versions and that he can have final say in anything that goes in or stays out of the interview. You’ve found that a lot of your guests appreciate that little clause and in the five years you’ve been doing the show only a handful of bits have been kept out. You like to think it’s because you’re good at what you do and get people to open up on a level that they feel comfortable with.

Steve finally gives you the okay and you settle into the cozy lounge chair, Max sitting comfortably in the one opposite you.

“Thank you again for joining me today, Max. I’ve got to admit, I was a little surprised when your manager said you’d agreed to come on the show. You don’t do a lot of lengthy interviews and I could only find a handful of podcast appearances over the years. So, why The Yapping Hour? Why now?”

Max takes a sip of water before placing it on the table beside him. His shoulders are relaxed, his ankle sitting on his knee is a causal pose. You’ve become a veritable body language expert since starting the show and you can already tell this is going to be a good interview.

“I like your style.” His blunt answer throws you off for a moment and your cheeks heat. Again. You make a mental note to make sure they edit your complexion in post production to take the blush out. “GP sent me the one you did with Dale Earnhardt Jr a few months ago and I was impressed at how authentic you were. Dale is a character but you got a lot of depth out of him. Your questions went beyond the typical ‘what’s your favorite race track.’”

“Well, thank you. That is quite the compliment coming from you.” For the third time in a short time, you blush at the compliments this man is handing out left and right.

Your eyes flicker above Max’s shoulder to where Shannon and Steve sit, their smug faces tell you that you’re not imagining him flirting with you.

“I have to tell you, I went karting with a few friends in prep for this interview and oh my God, I’ve been sore ever since! I can't imagine how hard an F1 car is on your body. Talk to me a little bit about your training sch-…”

“You went karting as research?” He interrupts you, face a mask of disbelief.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Of course, I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” You toss him a wink and enjoy the way your stomach flips when his ears go a bit pink. “My dad beat me by almost 20 seconds and I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it, but it was worth it. I can see why so many people get hooked, it was so fun.”

“Karting with a NASCAR legend had to make it a little better though, yeah?”

“You know my dad?” Your brows nearly hit your hairline, you’re so surprised at this. Your dad had been long retired before Max had come onto the racing scene and there wasn’t a huge overlap in fan bases between F1 and NASCAR.

Max nods, “He was racing around the time Jos was in F1. I still remember that one Daytona 500 where he stole the win from Earnhardt Jr on the last lap after he’d led for the entire race.”

You tilt your head back laughing and Max thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever heard, fully entranced by the long column of your neck that’s suddenly exposed. “Oh God, dad is going to die when he hears you know about that race.”

“Have either of you been to an F1 race yet?” A plan begins to form in Max’s head.

“No!" You lean forward to swat at his arm playfullt. I’ve tried a few times but it’s always fallen through. I do watch most of the races though, as long as my schedule permits. Sometimes it’s easier when you guys are in Europe because the races are so early in New York, it’s easy to watch them from bed on Sunday mornings.”

The image of you wrapped up in a fluffy duvet wearing nothing but his t-shirt as you watch him race nearly sends Max into orbit. He blinks furiously, trying to get that vision out of his mind so he can pay attention to you.

“Tell me this then, if you could pick any garage to watch the race which one would it be and why would it be Red Bull?"

You can’t help that laugh that explodes from you then and Max preens under your attention, smile stretching wide across his handsome face. “You know, I could have sworn it was my name on the podcast Instagram page.” You tease, giving him a wink. “You keep asking me questions, I’m going to be out of a job, Verstappen.”

“I can’t help it when the interviewer is much more interesting than I am.” He murmurs, taking another sip of water without taking his eyes off of you.

The rest of the interview continues on for the next two hours and you get so much content you feel a little dizzy at the thought of having to cut over half of the episode. For the first time in the podcast’s history, you may have to split this into two episodes. Max doesn’t mind one bit, finding that he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be with how easy he finds it talking to you.

You wrap up the interview over an hour past the time you had told Max’s press officer it would last but neither of you make any movement to get up, despite both Shannon and Steve beginning to wrap things up.

“I’m so sorry I kept you this long, Max. I know you’re not a huge fan of lengthy interviews.”

Max just shrugs, “If all interviews were like this, I probably would say yes to a lot more of them.”

You grin over at him as you rise, realizing the sun is setting outside and your stomach is aching for food. Max follows suit, although he feels a clench in his stomach realizing that his time with you is coming to an end.

“Can I ask you something?” He says when Shannon and Steve walk out of the studio, leaving the two of you alone.

You look up at him and nod earnestly, “Of course!”

“Why didn’t you ask me about my childhood? Usually it’s one of the first things people ask me, especially in these kinds of interviews.”

You shrug, face heating at being found out. “Like you, I do my research and I figured you might not want to talk about that part of your life. I want my guests to feel comfortable when they come on the show, not immediately put on the defensive. I guess I thought there were other more important topics…”

Your words hang in the air, heavy between you two. Something in Max’s chest aches at the simple kindness you’ve extended him. It’s true, he doesn’t like revisiting his childhood very often, especially when it’s recorded and will be put on the internet. His dad was very much still in his life, obviously, and while he had done a lot of work to move past his childhood, it was still painful to talk about.

“Thats…wow. Thank you.” Is all he can manage, voice thick with emotion.

“Of course.” You murmur, reaching out to touch his elbow in what you hope comes across as a comforting gesture.

Max’s eyes drop to where your slender fingers rest on his bare arm before a smile stretches back across his face. “I know it’s kind of last minute but you were saying earlier you’d never been to a race. We’re in Miami next weekend and I’d love it if you were my guest…”

You can’t help the flutter in your chest at how nervous he appears standing before you. Your eyes dart over to Shannon, the official keeper of your schedule and are delighted when she nods vigorously, phone in hand with your calendar already pulled up. You made a mental note to give that girl a raise ASAP. “I would love to, Max.”

“Yeah?” He sounds almost shocked that you had agreed so quickly.

“Yeah.” You say, a hint of a giggle at the edge of your voice.

“How about I take you out to dinner tonight and we can work out the details.”

“Why Max Verstappen, I had no idea you were this smooth.”

TheYappingHour posted

987,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, susiewolff, and others TheYappingHour SURPRISE! Part one of my interview with none other than 3 time F1 world champion Max Verstappen is live on all socials RIGHT NOW. (yeah, I said part 1! We both yapped so much you're getting a part two next week!) user9382 the chemistry between these two was OFF THE CHARTS >>>user111 ikr? i felt like i was interrupting something the entire hour. MaxVerstappen1 it was a pleasure meeting you! can't wait to see you in Miami this weekend! >>>user2999 MAX WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HER IN MIAMI. >>>user999 stfu she is so coming to the Miami race?? MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN. user3210 has she ever done a two parter before??? not even the Queen of the Netherlands got a two parter!! user9928 i don't think i've ever seen Max this relaxed during an interview EVER. >>>user222 seriously! He was like a little boy with a crush then entire time.

yourpersonalinsta posted

234,100 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, michelle obama, and others yourpersonalinsta we yapped some more and stuffed our faces. til next time, maxie! (tagged: maxverstappen1) user999 not michelle obama herself in the likes maxverstappen1 you're going to be trouble in miami, aren't you? >>>yourpersonalinsta what do you think? ;) >>>user9932 oh my godddddd user028 this is the couple i didn't know i needed

tag list (some of you only requested to be on a series tag list but i am not organized enough for that. lmk if you want to be removed!! also fingers crossed this tag list works this time ffs. sorry!)

@anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff

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ravenslvt · 3 months ago

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hii can i please request bucky coming back home after a long mission and him and reader are just enjoying each other? thank you!

☆bf!bucky barnes x f!reader fluff and smut!☆

☆ bucky comes back after a three week mission, and all he wants is you.

content: super short! mainly fluff and some smut at the end!! kissing, fluff, bucky in love, bucky eats pussy, fingering, grinding, both of them are pent up, bucky loves his girlfriend.

a/n: wasn’t sure if you wanted fluff or smut so i did both! first time writing in a year sorry if i’m a little rusty.

masterlist

its only been three weeks since bucky left for his mission with sam. yet you felt like its been years.

you two spoke on the phone a few times, he spends any free time he has talking to you. all you know is that it's important and probably very dangerous.

you lay on your soft couch in your apartment, watching a random show you had been binging. the ambient lighting setting a more comfortable tone over the room.

your eyes can barely stay open, letting them close for a few seconds before forcing them back open, trying your hardest not to fall asleep. it was late, almost 1am, but you were determined to finish this episode before falling asleep.

suddenly, your phone lights up from beside you, forcing you to snap out of your trance on the show.

you reach to flip the screen, but before you could even pick it up there was a familiar knock at your door. you perk up from your comfortable spot on the couch, pausing the show and quickly walking over to the front door.

you open the door, and there he stood. his hair a little bit longer than when he had left. in his black compression shirt and black tactical pants. he came straight from the plane.

bucky stands in the hallway, a weary expression on his face. he offers a small smile as you open the door, bags under his eyes, looking exhausted.

for a moment, he stands there, simply taking you in. he didn't realise how much he missed you until this very moment.

“hey.” he lights up seeing your suprised expression.

“hi” you respond, not wanting to waste another second apart.

you both smile, he immediately wraps his arms around you, bringing you into a crushing hug as he closes the door behind you guys.

he nuzzles his head into your neck, breathing you in. “missed you.”

your arms quickly find placement around his shoulders. he notices the fact that you’re wearing a pair of his boxers and his t shirt that magically went missing a few months into your relationship.

as you wrap yourself around him, you notice he still smells the same, the second you reckognize his familiar scent, your eyes shut. the warmth of his arms embracing you making you greatful for having a boyfriend in the winter.

you pull back and he brings his hand up to cup your face, his thumb gently running over your cheek.

“god, you have no idea how much i’ve missed you.” he leans in and kisses you. you’d never get bored of the way his lips felt against yours, even after over two years of being together.

his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer to him. you smile into the kiss. “i can tell” you giggle.

he looks around at the familiar setting of your apartment. looking to the living room and taking notice of the paused tv show and snacks on the coffee table.

“you were just soo bored without me, huh?” he smirks, making you roll your eyes.

“no…” you playfully slap his real arm, noticing the way he slightly winces as if he was in pain.

“bucky…” you look up at him.

“yes…” he responds, avoiding eye contact.

“did you not go to medical after the mission?” you ask, feeling his arm.

“i-no” he lowers his head in defeat. you groan.

“i told you to stop doing that after last time you showed up borderline bleeding out, buck!” you immediately start inspecting him, making sure there’s nothing else wrong.

“i know, but i promise i’m okay.” he assures you, gently holding onto your hands and kissing your cheek. you held back a giggle at the tickle of his beard against your skin.

“i couldn’t wait to see you, medics would have taken over an hour to check me out-“

“you couldn’t wait an hour?” you ask, seriously. “what if there was something wrong?” you frown.

he shakes his head, his blue eyes searching your own.

“no, baby, i couldn’t.”

you weren’t really mad at him, you were just worried, rightfully so.

you lift yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him again, your hands moving to behind his neck as he grasps your waist.

he gratefully accepts the kiss, your lips moving at a perfect pace. just when he pulled you flush against him, his grip tightening on your waist, you pulled away from him. both of you heavily breathing from the make out sesh.

“but you have to at least let me see your injuries. no arguing.” you turn around to walk to the bathroom, him groaning as he follows behind you like a lost puppy.

he knows not to say no to you at this point in your relationship.

you flip up the switch to the obnoxiously bright light of your bathroom, bucky sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

“take your shirt off.” you tell him, hiding a smile. you lightly tug on his shirt that fit his form way too well. he smiles back.

“whatever you say, beautiful.” he grabs the collar of his shirt, pulling it off over his head.

your eyes are immediately drawn to the decent sized cut on his arm, and the gnarly bruise on his rib. you frown, finger hovering over the bruise.

“buck…”

“it doesn’t hurt.” he grabs your hand that hovered over his rib, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it.

you look at him, unsure. he notices.

“i promise.” he reassures you.

you lean down, giving him a peck on his cheek.

“okay, you’re letting me clean the cut at least. i don’t want anymore blood on my carpet, please.” you fake pout, reaching under the bathroom sink for the bandages and anti bacterial spray.

“i apologized. purposely for that.” bucky says, watching you bend over to grab the supplies, eyeing you as you walk back over to him.

“that you did.” you giggle, spraying his cut with the aid spray, thankfully it was the one that didn’t burn. not like it would have hurt him anyways.

you take a second to stare at your hot super soldier boyfriend's arms for a moment.

not a second went by when he was gone that you didn't miss them.

and him too of course.

“and i made it up to you, remember?” he smirks, giving you a knowing look. you roll your eyes, ignoring his comment. he speaks again.

“you came four times that ni-“

“okay all done here!” you cut him off, taking the sticky part off of the large bandage, carefully but quickly placing it over his wound, thankful it wasn’t bleeding.

he chuckles at how shy you get when talking about sex, you were so cute.

“c’mere.” he whispers, standing up. you oblige, wrapping your arms lazily around his neck. his gaze goes from your eyes to your lips to your neck.

you watch his hungry stare, not missing the way you feel yourself getting more turned on by the second. the tired and rugged look on bucky making him somehow seem even more attractive.

your boyfriend was practically obsessed with you. his pure admiration and devotion to you almost shine through his eyes whenever he looks at you.

“bucky…” you practically whine. his eyes snap back to yours.

“yeah, baby?

“kiss m-“ before you could even finish your words, his lips were on yours. you missed being this close to him, but you both needed more.

his hands go lower on your back, pulling you against him so he could feel more of you. you gasp into his mouth when he unconsciously grinds against you.

“bed.” you say in between kisses. he smirks, picking you up bridal style with complete ease and walking to your bedroom. “you’re bossy today.” he jokes.

“i just missed you.” you say as he gently places you down at the edge of your mattress, legs spread as he stands between them.

he gives you another kiss.

“lay back, gorgeous.” he commands, you scoot back and do as he says, watching his shirtless form as he crawls up to you. you do the favor of taking your (well, his) own shirt off, leaving your upper half exposed.

you are about to complain to him to take off his pants, but before you can protest, his mouth is on yours again. the both of you having had no form of relief for almost a month making you both more needy and impatient.

he grinds himself against your clothed clit, the thin fabric of (his) boxers you were wearing making the feeling of his clothed erection even more intense.

you lightly moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hips continuously rocking into yours, feeling yourself getting more wet.

“bucky, need it.” you whine, not wanting to wait any longer. he shakes his head.

“not yet, baby. it’s been weeks, i gotta prep you.” he gives you another kiss before moving his path downward. down your neck, sucking small marks. down your now bare chest, not forgetting to give your breasts attention before moving down to your naval.

“you look good in these.” bucky compliments, two fingers tapping on your clothed clit, making you hiss. “bucky!” you pout.

he doesn’t hesitate to give you what you want, leaning his head down and sucking your clit through the boxers, making you moan and buck up into the feeling.

one of your own hands squeezes your breast as the other is combed in his hair, the feeling of him tasting you and drenching the fabric between you two making your head spin.

finally, he taps your hips, you lift them up as he quickly takes the shorts off your body. before you can even look down you feel his tounge directly on your soaking pussy.

it had been so long since you felt his touch, the scruff of his facial hair tickling your inner thighs as he eats you out. he goes from sucking your clit to licking your entire pussy, wanting to feel every single part of you.

you writhe around, trying to hold back your moans as his grip on your body tightens. he takes his hand and inserts one of his metal fingers into your needy hole, making you gasp.

“fuck!” you cry out as he hammers his finger into you, already being overwhelmed from all the stimulation.

bucky soon adding a second finger, making you lose control, grinding yourself into him. the contrast of his cold fingers in your warm cunt felt even better. still eating you out like a mad man as he does all of this.

he loves watching you like this. the love of his life feeling so fucking good, all because of him.

you squirm as a familiar feeling starts to rise in your lower stomach.

“bucky-ah! don’t stop!” you cry as your first orgasm quickly approaches. he doesn’t stop his actions, watching as you desperately whine out for release.

“m’gonna cum, baby.” you grab onto his arm, squeezing as you buck into his mouth, his fingers slamming in and out of your weeping cunt as you cum all over his hand, using your free hand to (poorly) cover your mouth from all the moans.

you’ve already had one complaint from the neighbors, not like bucky cared.

you shake from your long awaited orgasm, whining as you try to push bucky’s head from your cunt. with one last kiss to your pussy, he pulls away, sitting up on his knees to look at your disheveled form.

suddenly, the tiredness from before along with a combination of lack of sleep and the insane orgasm from your boyfriend hits you all at once. you close your eyes for a few seconds, recollecting yourself.

you lazily hold your arms up to him, wanting to be held. he smiles, immediately laying on his side to hold you.

this is your favorite part of being intimate with bucky, the way you hold eachother after.

he stares at you as you bring your thumb up to trace his jawline, making your way to run your fingers through the back of his dark hair.

he leans in and kisses your forehead, which is what he usually does right before you two fall asleep.

“i thought you wanted to-“

“no, no, we don’t have to. it’s 1am and i know you’re tired, baby.” he assures.

you frown.

“but-“

“we’ll save it for tomorrow, trust me.” he leans in to capture your lips in yet another kiss, this one softest.

you smile, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“water?” he asks, about to get out of bed until you stop him.

“no, just stay with me, please.” you don’t even bother opening your eyes, just grabbing onto his arm.

he chuckles, grabbing the blanket from the end of the bed and wrapping it comfortably over the both of you. he sighs as he finally settles into your bed, kissing your forhead once more, arms wrapped comfortably around your figure.

he whispers your name. you peak open your eyes to look at bucky. it’s like he gets even more attractive the more you look at him.

the sound of his voice making your heart squeeze and your stomach all warm.

“i love you.”

you tuck yourself even closer into him, kissing his jaw.

“i love you too, buck.”

a/n: this is my first time writing in like a year LMAO i’m a little rusty but i love getting requests because it helps me feel more inspired!! thank you for reading my first writing in a long time. :) i feel like i wrote this one a little plainer than i usually do, but hey i missed writing!

#x reader #reader insert #smut #fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #sebastian stan #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #winter solider x reader

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hamliet · 3 months ago

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Adolescence Review (by someone who used to work in child protection)

Recently watched Netflix's Adolescence and it was probably the best TV series I've seen. It's superbly acted (how was this Owen Cooper's first role?), fascinatingly filmed (every single episode is shot in one take), and brimming with empathy and nuance.

It also resonates personally with me. Once upon a time, I worked in child protection for a year. I've worked with kids like the main subject of the series, Jamie Miller. I can't and won't give details, but this series probably captures the heart-wrenching, soul-crushing reality of what it's like to work with kids who do horrific crimes.

Episode 1 is an excruciatingly detailed account of the dehumanization of arrest and imprisonment, and that's even with everyone doing their best to be kind to Jamie because he's a child (13, but looks younger). I guarantee you most cops don't try to be nice to most intakes.

There's really only one moment where a cop is cruel until the interrogation, and that's when Jamie's being strip-searched. The man conducting the search tells his father, who asks, in essence, "how would you feel if you were thirteen and strangers wanted to do this to you?" that "I was never accused of a crime." Well, bully for you, jerk-face.

Yet the viewer also understands the cruel necessity of having to conduct such a search, while also wanting to throw up. I do think a lot of the discourse around juvenile criminals resorts to "throw away the key" without considering what that means, and what humiliation and abuse kids go through when they're arrested (rightfully or wrongfully). The show following each and every motion and forcing the viewer to observe the father's face rather than the actual search forces the viewer to face their own thoughts on juvenile justice (especially because, at this point, you don't know whether Jamie did it).

But at the same time as Jamie is dehumanized in this way, you're confronted with the reality of how much he's dehumanized his victim at the end of the episode, when you see that he absolutely, 100% did do it. This thread of how Jamie dehumanizes women in particular continues in Episode 3.

Episode 2 is easily the weakest of the series. It's still great and offers, via a chaotic school with checked-out adults who can't care anymore and adults who do care completely overwhelmed and limited by their own humanity, a symbolic picture of what teenagers face. How can they learn when they aren't willing to listen? At the same time, how can they learn when no one is teaching? How can people teach when they are drowning themselves?

My criticism here is that the school appeared not exactly unrealistic, but also slightly hyperbolized. I think they could have stressed the struggles of trying to care when there's too much to care for even more than they did via an additional episode, an episode I think the second one almost introduced and then left dangling--one that focused on Katie's loved ones.

We hear about Katie's mom, and we meet Jade and see her rage over losing her best friend. We even see one detective voice how frustrating it is that Jamie will be remembered but Katie won't be. I wouldn't quite call this lip service because I do think the aim of the show isn't quite about this, but I do think the show should have spent an episode on Jade and/or Katie's family.

We know Katie isn't perfect as a victim, but that doesn't mean in any way that she deserved to be stabbed to death (or to have her pictures leaked). In fact, the show makes this emphatically clear. But I still think they missed a chance to make her more human, to show the loss through her loved ones.

If Episode 2 is the slightly-less-than-the-others episode, Episode 3 is the standout. The psychologist examines Jamie and he vacillates between inappropriately flirting with the psychologist to childishly requesting more hot chocolate to terrifyingly screaming in rage to sobbing in fear like a child in a nightmare to condescendingly mocking her like a rabid fan of Elon's would to desperately trying to wrench away the reality of what he did and trying to talk himself out of facing reality. And Owen Cooper, the child actor, makes all of this believable.

The reality is that the cruelty of what Jamie's done sinks in during Episode 3. He tells his psychologist that most other guys who have assaulted their victim, but he didn't, so he's better, right? And then he screams and sobs minutes later begging for someone to tell him that they like him, anyone. I found myself wanting to grab the psychologist and beg her to say that she "cared" (something I said in a similar moment during my work doing child protection). But I also understand why she didn't--not just professionally, but in terms of Jamie having to realize that he can't be entitled to people liking him when he's so cruel to women.

The psychologist also asks Jamie if he understands what death is. While he says all the right words to show he does, everyone over the age of 20 knows that he doesn't, and the show knows it too. I genuinely think that, until you get older, you cannot fully understand what it means for someone to be gone from this earth.

And therein lies the paradox of the show: Jamie doesn't fully understand what he's done. At the same time, what he's done has permanent, gruesome, irreversible consequences for everyone around him--and beyond that, because of the internet's influence beyond local boundaries.

Episode 4 is an episode I would call beautiful in a lot of ways, despite the fact that it's jagged and raw. We follow Jamie's family (dad, mom, and older sister) as they try to celebrate the dad's birthday about a year after the crime. We see how they're wrestling with the fallout and agony of knowing they raised Jamie--but they also raised Lisa, who is kind of an awesome kid.

And while Episode 1 actually has detectives musing that the parents might be abusive and that might explain it, this episode removes any doubts: Eddie and Amanda, Jamie's parents, are good parents. They are not perfect. Eddie has a temper. Amanda should have monitored his computer use more. But also? No parents are perfect. Arguably, the detective who interacts with his son in Episode 2 is a worse parent than they are. Yet his son is great, and Lisa is great.

There simply isn't a good explanation. Jamie was hurting, yes, but his pain can't be pinned down to a singular cause. The internet hurt him and gave him messages about masculinity that were harmful to say the least. But he also got those messages at school, even if he wasn't on the internet. And he got love at home, as well as some flawed interactions with his parents.

So who is responsible for Jamie's actions? Jamie himself. He chose.

Yet, the series also acknowledges that Jamie is a child, and he is not just "born bad." We see how other kids, like Jade punching Ryan, and Ryan loaning Jamie the knife, and Tommy joking around, and the bully leaking Katie's pictures--they have no comprehension of the extreme ramifications of their actions... but some of them also don't appear to care to learn. Normally, society would demand they care to learn, but that's not happening.

So then what? If society creates these kids, then what does society owe them? That's a question the series wants viewers to walk away contemplating, rather than giving a simple answer.

And there is some hope: Jamie deciding to plead guilty and accept responsibility. In that, we see how kids are supposed to be able to make mistakes and learn and grow. Yet Jamie's "mistake" is so shattering that Katie will never get to grow beyond it because of him, and to what degree Jamie can after pleading guilty isn't clear either. And in an era where their every action is captured online, can they ever really grow beyond?

I don't know that I have an answer to that. I've seen some kids I worked with grow up to be awesome. And I've lost touch with others, particularly those whose cases were more serious. There is no agony like seeing a child who has done something horrific and is suffering themselves and knowing you can't save them, and not knowing what the future holds for them. All you're left with is being able to hope that they'll learn to accept responsibility and grow, but in a system and society that makes that really impossible, is that even much of a hope?

#hamliet reviews #adolescence #netflix adolescence #netflix series #jamie miller #eddie miller #katie leonard

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pedroscurls · 1 month ago

Text

blessing in disguise (one-shot)

summary: joel misses his shift for patrol, which turns out to be a blessing in disguise. (or joel misses work bc reader is giving him some morning head 😉)

pairing: jackson!joel x fem!reader content warning(s): EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), joel lives (as he should!!!), oral (m receiving), blowjob, hair pulling, pet names (joel calls you his good girl), dirty talk, size kink, deep throat, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n, minimal description of reader (has hair so joel can tug on it😉). word count: 2.4k a/n: ok listen - ep 6 will forever live rent free in my head as the final episode of the show. joel is alive and repairing his relationship with ellie. abby's dead and will no longer bother our man and so i thought, what if he lives because he missed his patrol having one of the best blowjobs that man has ever had??? i mean, i think it's a good enough reason to miss work hehe. this wasn't proofread, just wanted to get this story out lol. anyway, please heed the warnings and enjoy! <3

You see Ellie and Joel talking on the front porch. After tonight’s events, Joel had opted to remain outside for a while longer. You knew that Ellie’s reaction to Joel stepping in after Seth’s bigoted remark had left him embarrassed—hurt. He didn’t want to talk about it when the two of you had gotten home. Instead, he poured himself a cup of coffee, grabbed his guitar, gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek, and then walked out to the front porch to sit on the chair.

He mentioned that he just needed some air, but you knew it was because he wanted to make sure that Ellie made it home safe.

You watch the two of them talk—it looks heated for a moment, but then you see the tension in Joel’s shoulders alleviate. From your view, you can see the tears in both his eyes and Ellie’s. Then, almost awkwardly, Ellie leans in and wraps her arms around him. Joel rests his chin on the top of her head and squeezes her tightly. The hug lasts for a few seconds before Ellie pulls away first. She turns on her heel and walks away. Joel lets out a sigh of relief and he grabs his mug and guitar and walks inside.

He kicks off his boots and shuts the door behind him, setting the guitar on its stand nearby. Looking up, Joel sees you sitting on one of the steps of the stairs.

“Hey,” he calls out.

“Hey,” you answer. “Good talk?”

Joel nods, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. “I think—I think me and Ellie are gonna be okay.”

You smile and stand up to make your way over to him. You rest a hand on his chest, thumb brushing against one of the buttons on his flannel. “Just had to give her time, baby.”

Joel nods, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. “M’gonna do things right this time,” he says softly. “M’gonna learn from my mistakes.”

“Joel,” you sigh quietly. “You know you didn’t ever do anything wrong, right?”

“I know,” he nods. “I just—I wonder if things would be different if I had been honest with her from the beginning. Maybe if I had, we wouldn’t have lost out on all this time that we could have spent together.”

“There’s no way of knowing, Joel.” you bring a hand up to rest on his cheek. “You did what you had to, to keep her safe. Ellie’s a smart girl, baby. You just have to let her come to terms with it on her own.”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “‘Spose you’re right.”

“And this—tonight—that conversation you had with her just now, it’s the first step in repairing your relationship with her. Like you said, you and Ellie are gonna be okay. There is no you without her and there is no her without you.”

Joel smiles, setting his mug down and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I love you,” he whispers. “And Happy New Year, darlin’.”

“Happy New Year, Joel,” you smile, arms snaking around his neck. “You ready for bed, old man?”

“Hmm,” Joel chuckles. “Call me old man again and I’ll show ya.”

“Oh?” you bite your lower lip, playing with the hair at his nape. “Come on then, old man.”

Joel smirks, eyes narrowing down at you before he swoops you into his arms and tosses you over his shoulder. A loud squeak escapes your lips as he begins ascending the stairs, the sound of your laughter filtering the home.

The light peeks through the windows and your eyes slowly open, seeing the snow falling from the sky. There’s a white sheet of snow that you can make out from where you’re lying and despite how cold it looks outside, you’re completely warm. Joel’s naked body serves a blanket of warmth, his strong arms wrapped loosely around you from behind.

You know that he has to wake up soon to go on patrol with Dina, but it’s the first day of the new year and you have other plans for him. As you slowly begin to move in his arms, Joel lets out a quiet grunt as he moves to lie on his back instead. He brings one of his arms to drape over his eyes, likely to block out the light that slowly begins to illuminate the room.

You bite your lower lip and lean forward, gently pressing a soft kiss on his chest. He mumbles under his breath as he begins to stir awake. You begin to pepper kisses down his broad chest, bringing the blanket further down his hips. You bite your lower lip as you look down—the trail of hair disappearing underneath the blanket and you can see the outline of his length from beneath the sheet.

Just as you’re about to move between his legs, his free hand reaches out to rest on your hip. It’s warm and heavy against your skin.

“Y’know I’ve got patrol,” he mumbles, voice deep and hoarse as he slowly begins to wake up.

You rest a hand on his chest and lean up to kiss his cheek lightly. “I know…”

“Then you know I won’t have time to—”

“Shh,” you whisper, “Let me just take care of you.”

“Baby,” he mumbles, eyes slowly opening to watch you crawl between his legs. Joel’s already half-hard and when he sees you on your knees, the blood rushes down. Fast.

“You gonna let me?” you ask, eyes fluttering up in his direction. You spit into your hand and then wrap it around his growing manhood, slowly beginning to stroke him to full mast. Leaning forward, you flick your tongue along the tip of his length.

“Fuck,” he moans breathlessly. Joel’s hand moves to your hair, grabbing a fistful as he looks down at you.

“That a yes?” you ask, pulling away from him as you grin.

“Yes,” he nods. “Fuck yes.”

“Good,” you answer. Without hesitation, you wrap your lips around the head of length. You can taste his precome trickling into your mouth as you use your second hand to wrap around the base of his manhood. He had always been so big, but every time you did this for him, he just seemed so much bigger.

Joel lets his eyes flutter shut as he presses the back of his head against his pillow. The grip around your hair tightens as he feels you try to take as much as you can in your mouth—the tip of his length hitting the back of your throat. “God, that’s it,” he growls. “Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” Joel mumbles. He lifts his hips slightly off the bed, pushing himself further into your mouth.

You pull away from him momentarily, chest heaving rapidly as you try to catch your breath. Tears sting the corners of your eyes as you look up at him, grinning proudly at the look on his face. His mouth is slightly parted, eyes shut tight, heavy breaths escaping his lips.

Slowly, Joel releases his grip around your hair and sits up, leaning back against the headboard. He opens his eyes and looks down at you as his manhood stands erect—throbbing and leaking at the tip. “Come ‘ere,” he whispers.

You nod and crawl over to the space between his legs as he spreads them apart for you. You lean up on your knees and lean forward, pressing your lips against his own. Joel grunts in response and tangles his fingers in your hair again—the kiss is urgent, messy.

“This your plan, darlin’?” he asks, smirking against your lips. “Make me play hooky on the first day of the year, hm?”

You nod, pulling away to look into his eyes. “Guilty,” you answer as you reach down and stroke him slowly with both hands. His eyes flutter as you lean in to rest your forehead against his own.

He lets out a quiet moan, eyes fluttering as he keeps a tight hold on your hair. “God, you spoil me…” Joel slowly pushes you down, guiding your mouth back to where he needs you the most.

You get the hint almost instantly—your desire to please him overpowering every thought. Still on your knees, you lean down and wrap your lips around him once more, the warmth and heaviness of his manhood resting in your mouth. You let the underside of his length rest on your tongue—every vein throbbing against it.

“Fuck, baby… You look fuckin’ good like this,” he groans, tightening his grip around your hair. Joel uses his free hand and taps at your hands, encouraging you to release your hold on him. As your hands move from the base of his length to rest on his thighs instead, Joel tugs on your hair and begins to guide you along his length. You hollow your cheeks as Joel’s guidance causes your head to bob up and down.

You let out a moan, the sound reverberating through Joel’s entire body. As you come down, the tip of his length hits the back of your throat again—a loud gagging noise escaping your lips. He holds you there for a moment, eyes falling shut as he tilts his head back. “Oh fuck,” he moans, feeling the tightness begin to build in the pit of his stomach.

Joel tugs you back by your hair, opening his eyes to watch the string of saliva that connects your mouth to his manhood. “Fuckin’ beautiful,” Joel smirks. “Should wake me up like this every morning.”

“We won’t ever leave the house if I do that,” you grin, wrapping your hands around his length as you begin to stroke him. “But I would do this every night if you’d let me.”

Joel grunts—he’s so hard in your hands and when he sees you about to lean down to wrap your lips around him once more, he shakes his head and pulls you up to straddle his lap instead. “Yeah, I think that can be arranged.”

“Good… because I just love having you in my mouth.” You smile, holding the base of his length steady as you slowly slide down on him. He’s so big—there’s always been a slight pressure once you feel him enter you, but you’re so fucking wet that he slides into you easily.

“As much as I’d love to come in your mouth,” Joel groans, hands moving to your hips as your tight heat envelopes him. “I want to fuckin’ fill you up,” he whispers, feeling you slide further until you’re seated firmly on his lap. “So much that I’m tricklin’ out of you the entire day.”

“J–Joel,” you whimper, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you slowly begin to rock your hips forward and backward.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby?” Joel grins, forehead resting against your own as his fingertips dig into your hips. You’re breathless as you move against him, breath fanning over his lips. “Feeling so full of my come, hm?”

“Yes,” you moan breathlessly. “P–Please…”

“Oh baby,” Joel grins, suddenly rolling you over onto your back as he slams into you. Your body jerks as a response and your legs wrap around his waist as he slides further into you. He brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing a few fallen strands of hair away from your face. “So pretty when you beg, but don’t worry, m’happy to give you what you want. Always…”

Joel pulls out to his tip, glances down to see his entire length glistening with your arousal, before he slides back into you. “Gonna spend the entire morning with you,” he whispers. “Spend the first day of the year with my wife—fuckin’ her good.”

“Joel!” you moan aloud, hands moving to rest on his chest. “Fuck, baby… Please…”

“M’right here, darlin’,” he groans, resting his head against your own. “Love you,” Joel mumbles. “Love you so fuckin’ much. Gonna spend the rest of my days with you,” he adds, hips moving in and out of you at a rapid pace. He moves your hands to your hips, holding you against the mattress as thrusts into you repeatedly.

“J–Joel!” your walls begin to tremble as you feel your orgasm fast approaching. Your warm and velvety walls tightens around his length as your back arches. “L–Love you, baby… I’m so–so close—”

“I know,” Joel growls, reaching down and beginning to rub circles around your clit. He watches your eyes fall shut as a loud moan escapes your lips. “Come f’me, darlin’.”

Your legs tighten around him, pulling him in close as your body shakes with immense pleasure. He’s still circling your clit and your body becomes overly sensitive that you reach down for his wrist and push his hand away. “I–I can’t, baby… It’s too much and—”

“Shh,” Joel whispers, lightly pecking your lips. “You can…” He sits up on his knees as he begins to slide in and out of you with ease. “You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he smirks, “So fuckin’ tight too. Shit, baby. I’m gonna fill you up…”

“Yes, please,” you beg again, feeling his hips stutter as he delivers one final sharp thrust into you. Seconds later, you can feel him paint your walls with his come—his length throbbing inside of you. He doesn’t pull out of you quite yet, but Joel moves in and out of you, allowing your tight walls to milk every last drop that he can give you.

“F–Fuck,” he mumbles, pushing into you fully as you wrap your arms around him. “G’morning,” Joel smirks, burying his face against the crook of your neck as he pepper soft and light kisses along your shoulder.

You smile, feeling the weight of his body press against you as he remains inside of you—softening but still so full of his come. “Good morning, handsome.”

“We ain’t leavin’ this house today,” Joel grins. “At least not for the next few hours.”

“If this is what it takes to get you to miss patrol on some days, I might just have to do it more often,” you smile, hands moving through his curls.

“I won’t object,” he answers. “Besides, I could use a few days off here ‘n there.”

“Yeah, you work too much,” you smile. “Besides, the more time I can spend with you, the better.”

“Well, I’d say it’s a good start to the year, darlin’,” Joel smiles, slowly pulling out of you as he looks down and watches his come slowly trickle out of you. “Yeah, definitely a good start to the year.”

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pittrabbit · 14 days ago

Text

under the skin.

warning: stalkerish andrew, reader is super sweet and obsessed with andrew, andrew is a freak and obsessed with reader (yayyyy), sort of bubbly reader, pope's pov, smut, p in v sex, dry humping, extensive foreplay, body worship, oral (f and m receiving), masturbation (male), voyeurism, perverted behavior (we all cheered!!!), etc etc etc.

summary: pope hadn't meant to catch a glimpse through your window, but after the first time, he just couldnt stop.

word count: 14.3k

note: this might be a little ooc since ive only watched like three episodes of animal kingdom. it was supposed to be like 7k words but it got away from me..

disclaimer: pictures are NOT indicative of reader's appearance. iirc there are no descriptors other than having hair and being an able bodied afab!!

➽──────────────────❥

andrew didn't know about you until now.

hadn't been made aware of your existence on any letters, any calls, any visits — not that there were many of those.

he'd just come back from prison. it wasn't as if he could keep up with whatever happened in his neighborhood during his absence. he was observant, though. observant enough to know that you were new. that you hadn't been here before he got arrested, much less throughout all the years he had spent growing up in this house.

for years, he'd seen people come and go from the house next door. it wasn't an optimal place to live, not with the extracurriculars he and his brothers got up to, and not with the visits they'd sometimes receive.

no one ever lasted there more than a couple of years, always fleeing the house after a while and leaving an empty space behind.

andrew never cared much for that place. he'd never cared much for any of its temporary inhabitants either. he'd spent most of his childhood too busy being reckless to notice the people next door. he spent it alienated, targeted, chasing after people he shouldn't have, people who either left him too early or simply didn't care for him. he had no time to look next door.

when he left, he couldn't remember who was there last. he hadn't noticed, hadn't cared. but when he came back? that's when his attention was piqued.

things weren't too different when he came back. the usual occupants were still there. j was a new addition, but he couldn't really bring himself to pay too much mind to him. he was still recovering mentally from all those hours of solitary, all that time with julia in mind, with the memory of the last time he'd seen cath.

but even those thoughts left him when he came back home.

his home was empty when he got back. it wasn't surprising to him that no one had been there to receive him. he was a ghost to them, the unpredictable force no one dared come too close to — other than smurf, which andrew began to feel conflicted about after the stint that landed him in prison, after the pathetic lack of visitation during his stay in said prison.

alone in his house, andrew had time to wander, to look and find any differences he missed during his absence. by nature, he cleaned up the things he found out of place, fingers wandering here and there without much thought.

that was how he came to stand before the window in his room that led to next door. a window leading directly into another window, only with two sets of blinds separating the clear view from one to the other. but the blinds next door were drawn at that particular moment, and andrew's just so happened to be peeking through (courtesy of his fingers creating a gap).

it was the unfamiliar movement that had caught his attention. he hadn't originally meant to look in that direction, but the lack of blinds gave him a perfect view of whatever was going on over there, drawing his eyes directly to the window.

that's when he found you for the first time.

a girl, mid twenties, maybe, throwing a tight-fitted top over her head as her body swayed lightly to what andrew could only assume was music playing from your side of the wall. you were distracted, worryingly so. it would've been easy for anyone to sit there, spy on the pretty view, do something dangerous with it — unlike andrew who just sat there, blank look on his face as he studied you. he couldn't help but frown at the thought of you doing this every day, bra-clad and ignorant to whoever could be lurking outside your house.

andrew grew even more worried when he realized he enjoyed the sight. he stood there for far too long, watching you go through your entire morning routine, privileged enough to see you get changed, do your hair, do your bed, clean up any stray clothes off the ground and finally close your curtain (which seemed to be taking place of the customary blinds). andrew was fast enough to remove his fingers from the gap he'd created on his blinds before you could take a look at the peeping tom next door. he wasn't particularly new to this type of behavior, but he didn't know you well enough to have you think he was a weirdo — everyone else thought so already, he didn't need to add another person to the list. much less someone he was already finding himself infatuated with.

he sat back on his bed, hands on his knees and back straightened as he looked in the direction of the window. he thought about you then. wondered who you were, how long you'd been there, whether craig had already gotten his hands on you yet or if maybe andrew stood a chance.

he shook his head after that last thought.

all his neighbors growing up had been families. the usual nuclear unit; mom, dad, son, daughter, maybe a dog. it was never anyone your age. it was rare around these parts to have people past their twenties living at home with their parents. andrew was one of the exceptions, constantly living under smurf's thumb (whether that was his choice or by force was still a debate rumbling in his head). the economy wasn't good enough for someone in their twenties to be able to afford such a house either. he wondered if maybe you were married, but recalled a lack of ring on your finger.

this gave him some sort of hope.

of what, he didn't know. but the weird feeling in his stomach was there. he'd only felt this way about a few people in his life — cath, julia, smurf when he was a child.

he had no reason to believe this would go any differently, but one thing was for certain; he'd go back to that window tomorrow morning.

➽──────────────────❥

andrew found himself at that window every morning that week.

his homecoming was put aside to focus on his new interest — you.

he found that you'd adopted the habit of getting dressed with your curtains fully drawn (you'd seemingly removed the blinds altogether, opting for some frilly curtains that matched the decor of your room). this was a dangerous and irresponsible habit, one that he frowned upon despite the hypocrisy behind his enjoyment of watching you.

although he never did anything with the illicit sight you provided him with, he still felt a slight pang of guilt in his chest at watching you without your permission. no one had been habiting his room for the past three years, it was likely you felt no risk of anyone watching you get dressed. but now he was here, panting at the sight, not knowing what to do with it.

andrew never touched himself to your sight. he didnt use his imagination to think about you while in the shower nor late at night when he found himself alone in bed. days went by where he had to slap the thought out of his head, nails digging into his hand as he balled his fists to prevent himself from staining the thought of you.

a few days passed until he learned a bit more about you. there was no need for him to ask, as you were a popular subject among his brothers. craig had apparently been trying to get you out of the house and into one of their parties, had also even attempted to just get you free for one night, but you always rejected his advances.

this proved conflicting for andrew.

on one side, he was relieved to know craig hadn't gotten his hands on you, hadn't tainted you yet. on another, if his brother didn't have any success at garnering your attention, would he even have a chance?

andrew grew antsy within two weeks of being home. he had enjoyed your presence for the entirety of his return thus far, but he wanted more. he was yet to hear your voice, yet to meet your eyes or interact with you in any way. he wanted you to at least know of his existence. this would feed his need to have you, right? he'd been able to satiate his infatuation with cath and julia by the sheer act of having them in his orbit. he was sure that a single word from you, a smile, a look, would give him enough to survive.

➽──────────────────❥

andrew found his chance one sunny afternoon. it was a thursday after having arrived from some unnecessary outing with his brothers. he was in a mood, but it was alleviated as soon as he spotted you out in your driveway, hands occupied by multiple paper bags, way too many for a girl to carry home on her own.

with his brothers having already rushed inside, andrew talked himself into making his way to your trunk, meeting a fessed up version of yourself as you attempted to carry all four bags all at once, putting them down and picking them back up a few times to reaccommodate them in an arrangement that'd allow you to carry them all in a single trip.

as he walked closer, he heard a few sighs of frustration from you, some curse words under your breath. he took in your voice then, breath lost at the sound of it. it wasn't like he'd imagined. he hadn't been able to come up with a fitting voice for you, but he decided in that moment that its intonation was the perfect fit.

it made him falter, your voice. it made him rethink walking over to you. the likelihood was that he'd be met with some form of rejection or disgust. he was used to causing unnerving feelings in people. something about how intense he was, how quiet and blunt he could be. he didn't want to ruin the nice, sweet image he'd built of you in his head by facing you and finding disappointment once more in his life.

andrew rarely had good days. and although this wasn't a particularly good one, he didn't want to make it worse.

"oh, hi."

he hadn't realized that he had blanked until your voice interrupted his thoughts, now at full volume. standing a few feet away from you, he played with his hands, eyes widening slightly when he realized there was no way back now.

"can i help you?" you asked, tone even. eyes looking him up and down briefly. no sign of dislike just yet.

"can i help you? with your bags?"

your expression showed concern, head tilted in question before smiling lightly at him. it stopped his heart for a few seconds.

"yeah? that'd be really nice of you, actually."

he walked over to you, hands stretched forward to take the bags. when you went to hand him one or two, he went past you to grab all four. it was an easy feat for him. his build was more capable of the task than yours. in return, you let out a surprised 'oh, thank you!' and smiled even wider.

leading him into your house, you gestured at him to come in when he faltered at your door, keys already out and door opening to let him in. you let him in first, closing the door behind him before leading him to the kitchen counter where he could drop the groceries on.

before you could thank him, he spoke up again.

"can i help you put them away?"

again, he was blunt, direct. perhaps he was even a little unnerving to you (he usually was to everyone else), but you didn't react to it. you only faltered slightly before smiling once again (and killing him in the process) and saying that yes, that'd be very nice of him.

andrew was a natural at this. he was the only person in his household who ever took care of such things. organizing, cleaning, keeping things in place; they were all things he did as second nature. he enjoyed order, went a little crazy without it. there was no need for you to tell him where everything went, as he just needed a look through your pantry to know.

"you're andrew, right?"

he was kneeling in front of one of the cabinets in your kitchen as you asked, back facing you. you reclined your body weight against your counter, watching him as he organized your things. you tried to help at first, but he stopped you with an almost muted huff, taking on the task on his own.

"yeah. how'd you know?"

"your room is right across from my window."

you said it as if there were no implication behind it, no hidden meaning.

had you seen him? had you seen him see you?

"i broke my blinds when i first moved, so i can kinda see into your room when you open yours." you explained. "i rarely ever draw my curtains, so i've seen you a few times. also saw a picture of you one time your brothers invited me over."

he got back up when he was done, hands folding the paper bags and setting them on your counter. he looked down at his hands as he did so. as if his secret would be given away if he looked into your eyes.

when he didn't respond, you continued.

"i hadn't seen you until now. did you just move back home?"

"yeah."

"from where?"

"you don't wanna know."

you took a few steps forward, landing yourself on the counter opposing to the one you'd been leaning on. now you were side by side with andrew, but your body remained tilted towards him, attempting some sort of eye contact that he'd been avoiding.

"try me."

he sighed, weighing his options.

he could lie to you. the same way he'd lied in prison, said cath and lena were his, acted as if he had some semblance of a proper life outside of those four walls. he could skip the ugly details about his life, make you believe he was normal.

or he could be honest, try and see if you'd still think he was the nice guy offering a neighborly hand when he saw you struggling.

"i was in prison."

silence. you didn't react. he wasn't facing you, but could still see no reaction from his peripheral.

he felt some light pressure on his arm, a soft grip. it was meant to be comforting, but all it did was draw some goosebumps out of him.

"well, welcome home, andrew."

you walked away after that, putting away the paper bags he'd folded and saving them for future use.

it was casual, with no hidden weight behind it. as if he'd just told you he came back from some business trip, not been forced into confinement due to some dubious crime.

"thank you for the help, by the way. haven't felt exactly welcome since i moved in. you're the first person to help me out."

"how long have you been here?"

"only a few months."

"you, uh, you live alone?"

he was trying his hardest to not be obvious. he was never sure what things were appropriate to ask, or what could possibly give him away. he wanted to be nonchalant and controlled, just like baz, but he couldn't help the thousands of thoughts running through his mind at every waking moment.

you nodded. "yeah. my uncle knows the owner of a few properties around the area. got me a good price."

that eased his mind. you lived alone. which meant you were available. or at least not married. he'd make sure to find out whether you were actually available or not. he had meant to do so before, but he wanted an introduction before he went around following you, inserting himself into your life without your knowledge. at least now he knew you. now he had an opening.

"that's good."

"yeah. if you ever need anything, just stop by." your smile was genuine, he really believed that. he had to look away again, embarrassed to smile back (even if his lips were tugging upward on their own).

"just don't tell the rest of your family." you then said. it made him look back at you, confused.

"why?"

"just ... i'm pretty sure craig propositioned himself to me when he invited me over. then your mom stopped by with some pie my first week here, said to stay away from her sons. not in those words, but, you know."

he knew.

he was surprised you knew too. smurf was pretty amazing at keeping things between the lines. at saying a thousand words with a single sentence. the fact that you caught onto that with one single meeting surprised him. it usually took people a little more to realize smurf was working against them behind the scenes. her threats usually went unnoticed to the average ear.

"what about me?"

you giggled then. giggled. he had pulled a giggle out of you.

usually, he would've assumed the laughter was directed at him, not shared with him, but there was an ease surrounding you that told him you wouldn't laugh at him. that you were nice, soft. that you were exactly what he needed.

"i'll make an exception for you."

and that was the first time andrew heard those words.

➽──────────────────❥

against his best attempts, andrew continued watching you every morning.

sharply at 7:30, you'd get up, open up your curtains for some light, and do your usual routine. it had been three weeks since he had come back, making it twenty-one days in which he'd enjoyed the sight of you getting dressed every morning.

thus far, your eyes hadn't met as he watched you. andrew had a constant fear that you'd turn around, find that small gap between his closed blinds and spot him, peeping at you like some fucking pervert. but you never looked. you acted as if your open window wasn't an invitation for anyone to come and watch the slight sway of your hips as you listened to music, nothing but some small panties covering your form as you undressed and re-dressed yourself.

but the reality was that no one but andrew could see you. your room gave the perfect view to whoever inhabited andrew's room. he knew that you knew this, but he could only assume that you weren't aware that he was hiding behind those closed blinds, the ones that always remained closed, only ever seeing the sun when his two fingers would create a gap small enough for his eyes to take in your form every morning.

although andrew continued to watch you behind your back, he also began stepping out of his comfort zone. watching you from afar would never get him anywhere (he'd learned this the hard way, seeing any possibility with cath slip through his fingers after years and years of just watching). he needed to make himself some sort of presence in your life.

and for once in his life, he was lucky enough that you seemed to be perceptive of it.

after that first time meeting you, he continued to help you with your groceries, practically spending all his free time awaiting to hear your car to park on your driveway, doing his best to act nonchalant when he strolled out of his house and headed over to the driver's door of your car. he even started to go the extra step in opening the door for you and holding your hand as you got out.

that small bit of contact could've kept him going for months. your hand in his, his thumb aching to caress the back of your hand. it was a quiet intimacy he couldn't describe. he wanted more, he was just unsure of how to get it without scaring you away. his mind went crazy thinking of how the rest of your skin would feel against his. images of your nude body flashed through his mind every time he saw you. the incessant need to see you at your most vulnerable, at your freest state, it overrode any sort of guilt he felt. he wanted you in ways he couldn't even understand.

he even found himself distracted by such thoughts any time he was around you, no matter how short-lived his visits to your home were.

it was partially his fault, really. andrew was always too lost in his head to relax enough to stay. he always assumed you wanted him gone, that he probably gave you the same discomfort he had a tendency to give others.

he wanted you to be the one exception.

"are there any fun places around here?" you asked one day, interrupting the war inside his head.

he had somehow let his guard down enough to accept your offer of a drink. after helping you put away some dishes, he accepted a tea from you, taking a seat on your couch right next to you.

there wasn't much proximity, but he still felt alert. he couldn't stop overthinking when he was around you.

"there's, uhm, the skate park. the beach." he responded after shaking his head of all his thoughts.

"is that it? i thought you grew up here."

he shrugged. "i like to skate. i like the beach."

"you skate, andrew?"

"yeah. always have."

you smiled at that, head leaning back against the recline of the couch, tilted towards him. "wanna teach me?"

his eyes widened a bit.

no one had ever really cared about his skating.

granted, he was an off-putting figure at the skate park, always making sure he had the ramp to himself, wanting everyone away from him while he did as he pleased. but a deeply buried part of him had always ached for someone to share that interest.

more importantly, was this an invitation?

"oh, uhm, you wanna learn?"

your shoulder nudged his, completely missed how he stilled at the contact.

"yeah. it'd be fun. you don't wanna?"

if you were teasing, he couldn't really tell. he didn't want to make you think he wasn't interested — he was. way too interested.

"no, no. yeah. i wanna. do you- you wanna go now?"

"now? yeah, sure. let me get changed first?"

you stood up before he could respond, making your way to a part of your house he was yet to see in person. he knew you were likely doing the same routine he'd seen every morning. and as he sat there, he felt himself flush at the thought. knowing you were just a few meters away, being the vision he'd had the privilege of witnessing for the past month, it made him groan internally.

you came back out pretty quickly after that, donning some shorts short enough to require some extra effort to get him to look away from the bare skin. it was hot in california, but god, it had never proved to be as much of an issue to him as it did in this moment.

the smile you gave him was as bright as every other. you were happy to be hanging out with him, happy to extend your hand and uselessly pull at him to get up, both of you knowing he could get up on his own but accepting the contact anyway. he had to look away from you every time you did this. every smile of yours was met with the sad excuse of a lip curled upward and eyes running away from yours.

but you didn't seem to mind, still holding his hand as you walked out of your house and made your way to your car.

as if it were second nature, andrew took the keys from you, silently insisting to drive as he led you to the passenger seat and opened the door for you.

"you're always such a gentleman, andrew." you giggled then, no objections from you any time he did such small favors for you.

andrew took note of every act that got a smile or a giggle out of you. occasionally he'd even get some flushed cheeks, some shy eyes looking away from his. those were his favorites. they made him feel like he had everything a man could wish for.

when you arrived to the park, andrew was a little embarrassed.

people knew him around there, knew he was a little off, a little strange. they were intimidated by him and his ability to keep everyone off his space while he was there.

this was one of the only places where he was happy (your house had been recently added to the list). he hoped it'd remain that way after having you here with him.

you'd waited in your car before leaving so he could pick up a few of his skateboards, giggling once again when he brought over one of his old helmets from high school, even throwing in some extra protection for your elbows and knees.

andrew couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart when you put them on as soon as he walked you over to his favorite ramp. you liked this; being with him. you looked giddy, excited to be there, not once letting go of his hand as he led you there.

"so, you any good at this, andrew?"

for once, he chuckled. a surge of confidence took over him.

"want me to show you?"

you nodded excitedly, not paying any mind to how people walked away as soon as they saw andrew coming, now standing at the sidelines as he climbed on the ramp.

andrew laughed as he made his way up and down the ramp, smiling when he looked to the side and found you cheering for him, small claps formed by your hands and tiny gasps whenever he'd perform a trick. he was on top of the world then, never having had anyone express any sort of genuine pride towards him.

the mixture of adrenaline from the speed, the wind hitting his face combined with the pride he felt from having you there, having everyone witness his girl cheer for him — it did things to him.

he finished after a while, making his way back to you and jumping back slightly when you took both his hands in yours, jumping excitedly as you praised him.

"oh my god? i didn't think you'd be that good! show me how to do it? please?" you were like an excited kid, talking a mile a minute while he let you sway his hands with yours.

fuck, he was losing his mind. he didn't know what to do with someone so sweet, so untainted. you were sheer perfection to him in that moment.

"let's start with something a little safer first."

he set your skateboard down on even ground, standing behind you as he led you on top of it. you lacked confidence in your balance, so he knew he'd have to stay near you. he was more than fine with that.

"shit, don't let go, andrew." you said when you almost slipped as you first settled a single foot on the board. "i'm too scared to put both feet on the board. you're gonna have to hold me."

"it's okay. i'll hold onto you." he promised, hands settled on the backs of your elbows as he held onto you.

from behind you, he could smell your shampoo. it took everything in him to not lean in and nuzzle his nose into it. that floral lavender scent was addictive. your skin was so soft under his fingertips, and your scent was too alluring for any man to resist.

another pang hit his chest at knowing that you were his in this moment. any of the usual spectators at the park could see him with his pretty girl, not knowing you weren't exactly his just yet. but he could pretend.

"wanna try going a little faster?" he walked behind you, aiding the small skips you made by using one foot to slowly push you forward while the other remained stagnant on the board.

"yeah, just — put your hands on my waist. i need more support."

you said it so casually, reaching behind you and placing his hands around your waist as if the feel of skin your crop top gave him wouldn't make him a dead man walking. he breathed deep through his nose, fingers caressing the skin there softly before squeezing, signaling for you to begin moving.

the angle was awkward by nature. you couldn't really teach someone to skate one-on-one without having to hold onto them like this. at least not if you wanted to aid them in the way andrew did.

this was mostly for show. you weren't really skating as much as you were being softly pushed by andrew. but fuck, he couldn't stop smiling. the sound of your laugh practically forced his own laughter to come out. he was on cloud nine.

"i suck at this." you giggled after your third stumble (andrew had no complaints about those; they gave him a chance to grip your waist, prevent an actual slip from happening). "but you're a fun teacher."

"thanks. you're- you're fun to teach."

after a while of this, you were finally confident enough to skate a little on your own. and against his better judgment, andrew let go of your waist, keeping a small distance as he watched you skate short intervals on your own.

as he watched, one of the regulars at the park came up beside him, watching you along with him, some guy he'd exchanged words with once or twice. andrew was so enraptured by you, he didn't notice the added presence until he spoke.

"who's the girl, man? never seen you this happy before. girlfriend?"

andrew didn't remove his eyes from you as he answered.

"yeah." he lied.

the guy patted him on the back. some sort of congratulations for bagging you, he guessed.

"woah, congrats, man. that's a fine thing you got there. how long?"

andrew looked past you being called a 'fine thing.' nothing could ruin his good mood.

"a month." another lie.

"shit, and you've been keeping her to yourself, huh? this your what, third date? fifth?"

"first." the first bit of truth, — or half-truth.

"first date at a skate park?" the man grimaced. "dude you gotta take her to some nice restaurant."

andrew withdrew his eyes from your form for the first time, confused as he looked to the guy next to him.

"y'know. fancy food. some table on the corner. no loud music, so you can hear each other. dark ambience. maybe a walk on the beach right after. she might take you home after that." the guy elaborated, speaking with an ease of expertise that made andrew feel like an idiot.

was that how things were supposed to play out? that's what girls liked, right? this was his first time really doing something like this. and you had asked him to take you to a place he liked. had that been some sort of test? maybe you'd been baiting him into asking you out, tired of his brooding presence in your home unbagging groceries with nothing of interest to provide.

"hey, man. just ask her tonight. she's in a good mood. she'll say yes for sure." the guy kept going after andrew's prolonged silence.

andrew simply nodded, his gaze finding you again.

he stood there watching you as he thought things over.

there was a high chance you only saw him as a friend. you hadn't shown any indication of wanting anything more. today had been the most you'd given to him. the touches of your hands and your insistence he stay close, were those hints towards something more?

andrew swallowed, unsure of what his next move should be.

➽──────────────────❥

"i had a lot of fun tonight, andrew."

you held his hand in yours then. your fingers were smaller than his, dwarfed by the encompassing hold of his hand. everything about you was soft, softer than he'd ever felt. your hands were too delicate for him to hold, yet he dreaded letting go.

after a while at the park, you headed back home. andrew was sure that'd be the end of it, but when he went to walk over in the direction of his house, you stopped him. your hand reached his own, apparently a new favorite pastime of yours, shyly pulling him back in and suggesting you go for a walk by the shore. he couldn't have said no even with a gun to his head.

"me too."

andrew kept overthinking it. he could ask you out right there and then, have a real first date with you, make it so what he said back at the park wasn't a lie. but this had never worked out for him before. no one had ever stayed before — no one he wanted to stay, anyway.

the two of you had known each other only for a little while. the surface hadn't even been scratched yet when it came to knowing you. you seemed to enjoy him as he was. he couldn't understand how or why, but he continued riding that wave.

in his head, he could see everything with you playing out already. he was already thinking of putting money aside for a ring, of what it'd be like to have a lena of his own. one with his eyes and your hair. everything was moving a mile a minute, way too fast for a nice girl with a bright future like you. he could think of keeping you all to himself, having a repeat of today over and over again until you were grey and old, growing wrinkled together in a pretty house by the beach.

"andrew. did you hear me?"

"sorry, what?" he looked back at you when you stopped walking, taking note of how, even then, you didn't let go of his hand.

he'd grown too into his thoughts. this happened often, but it was usually met with some insult, a loud reiteration of his name, — pope, not andrew — never with the sweet concern found behind your eyes.

"i asked if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime."

for the first time, you looked unsure. instead of the steady eye-contact you always held with him, your eyes wandered off. they went from his own, to your intertwined hands, to the white sand beneath your feet.

andrew swallowed, his grip faltering slightly as he tried to process what you'd just said. he felt unseemly as he stared at you. english felt foreign to him at that moment, no word in the language could leave his lips. and the usual glimmer in your eyes dimmed more by each passing second.

"i- it's fine. you don't have to-"

"yes."

"oh? really?" you looked confused for a second before lighting up again. "you're gonna have to choose the place, okay? take me somewhere you like." your usual confidence came back almost immediately. your fingers squeezed his, cheeks puffing up with joy when he squeezed back.

and again, you gave him the choice. his comfort seemed important to you. you never said it, never put it into words, but you looked at him like you had an innate care for him.

"okay. i'll- is sometime this week okay?" he promised.

he'd never seen a smile as intoxicating as the one you gifted him with then.

he provoked excitement in you. it made him lose his breath.

that night, he came home, completely over the moon. his cheeks hurt from forcing a smile back. he had to rush into his room, avoid any sort of interaction with any lurking members of his family. there was no way he could hold back his excitement, no way he'd be able to lie about the reason for his giddiness if he were prodded about it.

rushing into his room, he slammed the door behind him, heading over to his bed and sitting at its edge, hands coming up to cover his face. he was flushed, warm at the cheeks and almost pained with how strong his emotions felt at that moment.

after calming himself down for a few moments, he walked over to his window, blinds closed as per usual. it was nighttime, so looking to your window would've been useless. your curtains were always drawn by then, but he already missed your presence. even if it proved useless, his fingers took the usual trip to the blinds near the top of the window, opening the small gap that allowed him a look outside.

a small gasp left him when he peeked out, finding your curtains still drawn open. and past your window, he found you, beginning the process of undress.

he realized then, he'd been out with you all day. you hadn't been home to close your curtains as you usually did every day at sundown. you'd been at the skate park then, spending far too many hours together and arriving home well into the nighttime. like him, you must've been spent by the time you made it into your room, not caring for your open curtains at such a late hour — who could possibly be watching you, anyway?

who, other than andrew?

he felt dirtier than he ever had as he watched you that night.

those clothes he'd seen you wear earlier in the day, they were no longer hugging your body, instead making their way off as you took them off piece by piece. once you got down to a lone piece of clothing, andrew's breath grew so heavy. he feared you'd be able to hear him past the glass of his own window. he panted at you like an animal in heat, unable to control himself as his free hand reached down to his pants, making its way under the material of his boxers before he could stop himself.

your back was facing him, tiny panties contouring the shape of your ass. your back was bare, offering andrew the life-ruining sight of your freed skin. his hands had graced a clothed version of your back, itching to feel the skin underneath as he held onto you back at the park. as he wrapped his hand around his dick, he could only imagine what it'd feel like if he could touch it now.

he breathed deep and heavy, swallowing back any groans as he watched you make your way around your room in nothing but your panties, readying your room so you could head to sleep. he knew he had to hurry and get himself there as soon as possible, to use the sight to his fullest advantage before you made your way under your covers.

you moisturized your body, making him green with envy at the lithe way in which you touched your own body. it was an innocent touch, he knew this, but the sight still made him suffer with insatiable desire.

his hardness was painful as he worked himself at a punishing pace. he was aggressive with it, hand wrapped tightly around himself, thumb teasing the tip every so often, imagining how softly you'd touch him if you were in his place. the mere thought made him sigh, it made him close his eyes and groan to himself.

any shame left him when his orgasm finally washed over him. his eyes were closed now, his hand away from the blinds and any sight of you fully gone now. his release stained his boxers, but he couldn't find it in him to care. the image of your naked skin was imprinted in his brain. the imagined feel of your touch and of your body were all he could think about.

when guilt finally found him, he washed it away. he spent an hour under the stream of the shower in penance over what he'd done to himself in your name. he could imagine the disgust you'd feel at knowing of the way in which he'd used your body without your permission. as much as he had tried to avoid it, his infatuation turned to lust. he wanted you in mind and spirit, but he also wanted you carnally.

he went to bed with this thought in mind, only falling asleep after endless hours of reliving the day's events. the memory of your laughter calmed him, but the thought of your future date made his heart accelerate with foreign nerves.

➽──────────────────❥

the following two days repeated a similar routine.

you'd been working double shifts those days, meaning that your date had no chance of taking place as of yet. however, andrew had no complaints. he couldn't. not when he still got a front row seat of you taking your time in dressing yourself each morning.

after that first time touching himself to the irresistible view you provided him with, andrew became insatiable.

he kept touching himself the following two days. not only did he touch himself as he watched you, but he couldn't help but let his hand find its way between his legs in the shower, before going to sleep, all with the memory of your body in mind. he knew what you smelled like now, knew what the skin of your midriff felt like under his touch, had become familiar with the curve of your breasts under your shirt. his imagination made up for the rest.

everything in his mind was just a replay of you and every moment in which he'd laid eyes on you.

it wasn't only your body he thought about. his mind circled back to everything else about you. you were the sweetest girl he'd ever met. he felt guilty being on the receiving end of your kindness, felt undeserving of your smiles and of the privilege to keep you company. you were a form of salvation andrew had been unfamiliar with, and with one single look he had become addicted.

he had the misfortune of not being able to see you outside of his imagination for those two days, but he decided to spend the rest of his free time on something productive — he'd find the best place for your date.

it had to be perfect. he had to make sure that it was, that he got another smile out of you, another giggle accompanied by those flushed cheeks that made his fingers flex with frustration at not knowing what to do with all the emotions fluttering within him.

on the third day, andrew was finally able to see you again, now for an extended period of time. it was daytime then, and he knew you had a day off. maybe he'd taken the liberty of finding out where you worked, doing the math and figuring out when you'd be there, when you wouldn't. but he didn't do anything more with that information. he just needed it for peace of mind.

knowing you were off, he decided to go on a limb, to see if maybe you'd be happy to see him unannounced.

last time he'd done something like this, he got called a weirdo by baz, got a few creeped out looks by cath and a sinking feeling in his chest like he'd fucked up somehow.

but that still didn't stop him from doing the same for you. with a fresh bouquet of flowers in his hands, he walked the steps to your front door and stood there expectantly before knocking on your door.

"andrew?" you opened the door halfway, only opening it all the way after realizing it was him on the other side of it.

"hi."

the flowers were up to his chest, unmoving until you acknowledged them. he wasn't sure how to do this in a way that didn't feel standoffish.

"are those for me?" there was some hesitancy in your voice. as if andrew could've gotten them for anyone who wasn't you.

he matched your hesitance in lifting his arm up, offering the flowers out to you with nothing more than a nod and an almost muted 'yeah.'

"oh, andrew. that's so sweet of you." you grasped them immediately, pressing them to your chest before digging your nose in them to smell them. you giggled afterwards, making pope realize any risk had been completely worth it if this had been the result.

"did you wanna come in?" you offered.

he shook his head. "just wanted to give you those. and uhm ..."

he considered chickening out. the two of you hadn't seen much of each other (or at least you of him) in the past few days. he wasn't sure if a date was still what you wanted. you'd never even called it a date. thinking back to it, this could've just been you trying to make friends since you were new in town, not wanting to engage with him in anything further than a friendship. craig had insinuated as such when he caught andrew coming back from the beach after seeing you off a few days ago.

"yeah?"

and you were still smiling, still keeping a tight grip on your flowers as if they'd just become some priced possession.

"can i take you out tonight? for our date?"

bashfully, you looked down at your feet, but andrew could still see a smile on your face. you flushed slightly, which seemed like a good sign to him.

"i was scared you'd forgotten." you said when you looked back up at him. "not nice to keep a girl waiting like this, andrew."

he chuckled dryly. "i'm sorry. that's what the flowers are for. can i pick you up tonight?"

nodding, you reached out to him, flowers in one hand as you opened your arms out to him and gave him a hug. andrew stiffened at this, not having expected it without any warning. from the nonexistent distance, he could smell your shampoo, get a whiff of that perfume he'd smelled on you just a few nights ago. he could've stayed there forever, had it not been for you pulling away.

"and that's for the flowers." you teased. "i'll be waiting for you, andrew."

andrew fell in love with how you said his name. you made a point of saying it often, always with a dulcet intonation intertwined with the syllables. it was never said in anger, not even once in anything remotely monotone. it was an exciting word for you, always slipping out between smiling lips. and now it felt like a promise, something for him to hold onto until he could see you again tonight.

as he made his way back home, he tried to fight the smile off his lips. his hands were balled into fists, attempting to fight back the strong emotions he was feeling at that moment. it was a mixture of excitement and nerves. he still had many things to do. he needed to go confirm that the restaurant was perfect, that there was a perfect table on some dark corner, no loud music, needed to buy some button-up you may like, one that had a collar you'd want to touch and readjust when you saw him. it'd have to be blue, the color of your vintage car and of your nails the day he'd first seen you. you liked that color, so maybe if he wore it you'd like him a little more too.

➽──────────────────❥

the date had been a blur.

andrew had been on high alert the whole time, not knowing how to respond when he picked you up and you'd kissed his cheek with no hesitation, grabbing onto his hand as you called him handsome. he'd been equally as clueless when you stretched your hand across the restaurant table to hold his hand halfway through dinner. much less did he know what to do when it came to be time for dessert and you exchanged your seat across from his to sit next to him at the booth, head leaning on his shoulder and arms wrapped around one of his, suddenly being fed spoonfuls of the tiramisu on the menu you'd squealed over.

he'd never been on a date. not like this, at least. he wasn't sure how he was meant to react when you seemed so happy to be there, as if he was doing you a favor by gracing you with his presence.

he wasn't used to inducing happiness, not to receiving it or to giving it.

taking you home had been a blur too, walking hand by hand as you swayed your interlocked hands and made your way to your house. there, you paused at the door, turning to him with a smile. andrew returned it, smaller, shier, but there. your hands went up to play with the collar of his shirt, complimenting how handsome he looked tonight once more and making him look down at his feet bashfully once again.

"do you wanna come in?" you asked, head tilted and a sly grin on your face.

he nodded, flinching a bit when you gripped his hand once more and dragged him inside.

inside, he stood there, still as he looked around and took in the place. he wanted to become familiar with everything, to have this place feel like home to him as much as it did to you.

his thoughts were halted, though, as you grabbed his attention once again. you had turned back to lock the door, now taking a few steps towards him. you stood close, what would be too close for comfort if you were anyone else. but andrew wanted you close. he wanted you on his skin, wanted to breathe in your oxygen despite how fast his heart began beating at your proximity.

the room was silent, but andrew's heart was beating so loud he was certain you could hear it. he was anxious to see what you'd do next, but even more so to make a move of his own. when your hands lifted to lay on his chest, he sucked a breath in, hoping the hard beating of his heart would go unnoticed.

but it didn't.

"are you nervous, andrew?"

"yeah."

"do i make you nervous?"

"it's not you that makes me nervous."

you leaned in a little more, eyes dropping to his lips for a millisecond before turning back up to his eyes.

"do you want me, andrew?"

the way you said his name made him dizzy. even more so than your question. he couldn't breathe at that moment, fighting every urge to put his hands on you, keeping them stilled at his sides, knuckles white with the strength it took to hold back.

he nodded, breathing out when your hands began trailing up his chest, finding his shoulders and then the back of his neck.

"i've liked you since the moment i saw you." it was said almost as a whisper. your hand went up to his freckled cheek, thumb running atop his cheekbone softly.

"really?" his voice was even more muted than yours. he couldn't believe himself.

you nodded, now one step closer to him. your nose touched his, your breath mixed with his own. his hands hovered on your waist, not brave enough to touch, but silently begging to. his eyes were droopy, landing straight on your open mouth, thirsty for a meeting of lips.

"you're all i think about these days."

he whimpered silently. it was almost mute, but he knew you heard it. the tension in the room was too heavy for him to feel embarrassed over it. his body vibrated with want for you.

andrew didn't know what to say. speechless, he kept breathing against you. you panted against each other, spent despite your love affair barely being at its beginning.

the two of you remained at the entrance of your house. you hadn't made it far before you'd stopped him from walking further into your home, hand holding his and pulling him close without any warning.

slowly, you caged him to the wall, approaching him with slow steps until there was no room for him to run — not that he'd ever consider it anyway. still, he flinched when your hand trailed down to his jaw, thumb on his chin, angling his head so his lips would finally meet your own. you did most of the work, enticing him by lifting up your chin so your lips would touch.

it was soft at first. just a simple peck, separating immediately after, but keeping your lips close enough to touch. again, you pecked his lips. you did this a few times, always slow in pulling away and always keeping your eyes hooded enough to zero in on his lips.

you opened your lips at last, trapping his bottom lip between yours and sucking at it. this began a series of heavy kisses between you, tongues finding each other and sucking messily at one another. your hands pulled at the strands of his hair, pulling him closer as if to prevent the kiss from ever ending. you sighed into his lips any time he'd lick into your mouth, practically forcing him into holding onto you and pulling you just as close. he moaned and whined any time you pulled at his bottom lip, head trailing back so you could drag it with you and make him follow your kiss. he'd flinch sometimes, head moving back at how forward you were with your kiss. but you'd chase him every time, hands pulling his head so your noses would knock together and your lips would trap his tongue, holding it hostage as you sucked on it.

andrew's skin burned, he itched with desire for you, head completely empty as you had your way with him. he whined shamelessly when you trailed down to his jaw, kissing your way to his neck and sucking at the skin there, clearly uncaring of any marks you'd leave behind. he felt bad for how strong his grip on your waist had become, but he needed the support. his eyes were closed, rolled back behind the lids as he received every one of your love bites. he wanted them in visible places, imagined himself walking around shirtless, wearing them with pride knowing that you'd marked him as yours. he'd never been anyone's — not by his own will. but he found himself wanting to strip himself of everything other than you.

"i want you." he breathed. "please."

andrew didn't allow himself to want things frequently.

he was a well-oiled machine. obeyed orders when given, did what he had to do, always. but wanting? that was foreign to him. he hadn't been allowed to want, only to provide — whatever that meant at any given moment.

but with you, he wanted to want. he needed to try, at least. he felt safe with you, like that constant risk of rejection was completely forgotten. part of that fear still slipped through his words, but he couldn't help himself in wanting you, in expressing such desire.

"i'll give you anything you want" you breathed into his lips, barely touching. far but still close enough for your breaths to mingle.

he kissed you again then. his mouth was open, a groan leaving his lips upon the contact. your hands gripped his hair, insistent on pulling him as close as you could bring him. small hums of pleasure were released into his lips, licked and sucked by his tongue, vibrating against him in a way that had him recalibrating, readjusting to the foreign feeling of desire.

"need you closer." you moaned, tongue occupied with his own. "touch me."

his hands had been practically stagnant on your waist, now pulled at and encouraged to travel up and down your body. he went greedy with it really fast, squeezing your every curve, pulling you inhumanly close and grunting when you'd try to mold yourself to him. even chest-to-chest, groin-to-groin wasn't enough, he needed your bare skin on his, to let his tongue run down every inch of your body.

despite his urgency, he was still soft and intimate. he kissed your bottom lip, trailing down to your chin and your neck before lowering himself down to your covered chest. the thin straps of your dress didn't offer much coverage, allowing andrew to see your hardening nipples from underneath the material. his nose trailed after them, lips agape as he breathed against them, hesitant in closing around them until a sigh of desperation left your lips from above.

his tongue came out first, shy in wrapping around your nipple through the material of the fabric. he dampened it, sucking through it and taking in the vibration of your moans. your hand lost itself in his curls, running your fingers through them and softly pushing him closer to your chest.

eventually his hands gripped at your hips, not taking a handful, but letting his fingers take hold of the surface of the plush skin he found there. he wasn't sure how much he could touch you, how far he could take it before the other shoe dropped. even as you sighed so seductively into the air of the room, andrew remained with a seedling at the back of his mind telling him that this could all end at any second.

that's when you read his mind once more, always sensing even the slightest move to falter his actions. pulling at his head, you brought him back to your lips, pecking them softly a handful of times before looking straight into his eyes. yours were heavy with need, troubled in keeping your gaze on his eyes as they kept dropping to his lips.

"do you have a condom?"

he shook his head, remorseful.

"that's okay." you pecked his lips. "will you let me take you to bed?" it was whispered again. it seemed like you shared his fear. like if you acted on a whim, made any sudden movements, that it'd all be over.

he nodded, letting you take his hand and lead him into the master bedroom of the house. there, he couldn't help but stop at the entrance, looking over the room through which he'd been watching you all this time.

you stopped when his stilled hand pulled you back, turning to look at him over your shoulder. his eyes weren't on you, though. they were looking at your room, taking in every painting on the wall, every piece of furniture, the vanity in which you'd get ready every morning. andrew was well acquainted with everything in your room, recognizing every stuffed animal he could see from his window. every memory of you naked in your room came rushing back to him, causing him to swallow and for his fingers to squeeze yours unknowingly.

after a few moments of his silence, you spoke up again, getting his attention. you'd taken a few steps towards him, now standing face-to-face, your hands letting go of his in favor of settling on flat on the muscle of his chest.

"ever thought you'd be on the other side of that window?" you whispered, fingers trailing to the ends of his hair, drawing goosebumps in their wake.

"w-what?" his eyes, alert, landed on yours. you were too close for him to focus his eyes on you, almost going cross-eyed. but your eyes were distracted by his mouth, his ears, his neck, every single one being traced by your fingers.

you nodded at him, pressing one gentle kiss to his chin, then one to the corner of his lips, then to his cheek, pressing a few soft kisses in between words.

"my room? you've seen it before, haven't you? this morning? yesterday? a month ago?"

he felt lightheaded. his fingers flexed again, itching to touch you but feeling as if he did so at this moment, that softness in your voice would leave. you knew what he'd done. you were mocking him, likely playing with him as some form of punishment. but he wanted you so badly he was willing to take it — he needed you so much that he was scared to not even get this much from you.

"w-what? you-"

"shh. it's okay, baby." you whispered against his ear, chest now pressed to his and hands digging into his hair, pulling him in to rest his head on your shoulder. "did you like the view?"

dragging your hands down his body, they traced at the hem of his shirt, fingers teasing as they trailed up the expanse of his abdomen from underneath his shirt. your movements were slow and calculated, making him falter and his breath stutter.

he shook his head. not at your question, but at himself.

"n-no, i-"

"no?" your nails dragged down his chest softly. your tongue traced the shell of his ear. "i was hoping you'd do something about it. come knocking down my door or maybe sneak through my window."

he groaned at the thought (though maybe also at the way you sucked at his neck at that moment). his hands turned a little greedy by then, digging into your hips with a grip strong enough to keep you hostage if you so tried to leave.

"you knew?" he asked uselessly.

"since your first week back."

"i ... i'm sorry."

but you shook your head, your nose shifting against his cheek and nudging him so your lips would meet. kissing him a few times over, you licked into his mouth, swallowing his sigh of pleasure.

"it's okay, baby. i knew you were watching. just wanted your eyes on me" you sighed into his lips, whining when he opened his, licked your tongue bravely. "took way too long to seduce you."

you'd said it as a joke, as a lust-filled jest to relieve some of the heavy desire in the room. but andrew couldn't take it. he couldn't handle knowing that the feeling had been mutual, that you'd orchestrated a plan to get him hooked, get him panting like a dog, chasing after you in silence until he could finally push himself into making a move.

he thought about the self-control he exerted those first weeks, the repentance he'd felt at simply watching you, at the itch within to keep you all to himself. the day he finally touched himself to your body, he'd gotten on his knees and hoped you'd forgive him one day, not knowing that had been exactly what you wanted.

"i liked it. watching you." he admitted, swallowing back any shame.

you responded by cupping his cheeks, holding him far enough so you could look into his eyes. your thumbs held onto his cheekbones, gentle in your touch.

"do you wanna see it up close?" you whispered as you leaned in for a kiss, swallowing his groan in return.

"can i?"

"come here."

you reached down to pull at his hand, walking him over to your bed and gently pushing him onto a sitting position. he sat there, back straight and hands on the top of his thighs. there was a furrow to his brow. he wasn't sure what to do, how to react. inside, he was losing his mind. his eyes kept begging to reach every inch of your body, but the confident smirk on your face convinced him to keep his eyes on you.

reaching the hem of your dress, you pulled it off in a single move, leaving you in just some panties. your shoes came next, thrown off with no finesse. andrew watched every move like a hawk, fingers digging into his clothed legs and pulling at the material harshly. there was a heavy weight on his chest, he felt like he couldn't breath properly, panting at the sight like a rabid dog.

seemingly enjoying his reaction, you giggled, straddling him on the bed, hands on his shoulders before leaning down to stick your tongue in his mouth. static, his hands remained on his sides, not daring to place them on your hips until you dragged them there.

"is it as good as you remember? the view?"

"you're perfect." he groaned, hands now hovering, but still not brave enough to touch the now bare skin.

you turned soft for a moment, staring into his eyes and leaning down. "you are too, andrew."

before he could grunt some sort of disagreement or denial, you kissed him again, pushing him to lay down on the bed. his arms wrapped around your back, pulling you against his chest and groaning into your mouth. when you began to grind against him, he sucked on your tongue, humming at the way you moaned his name into his lips.

greedy, your hands reached south, finding the hem of his shirt before tickling the skin underneath it, itching to remove it. andrew sighed at your touches, pondering as to whether or not to help you undress him, but having the feeling of the skin of your back win that battle. his hands reached down to your ass, grabbing, pulling at the fat there and pushing you up against him as his hips reached up in attempts to grind into yours.

"off."

"what?"

"all of it."

andrew was nothing if not obedient. unwilling to displease you in any capacity, his hands went straight to work, awkwardly working his clothes off while you remained on top of him. there were a few accidental shoves of elbows, some bitten lips, perhaps one or two limbs trapped in fabric, but the reward for his nudity had been immediate.

andrew had never been on the receiving end of such ravenous lust, of such thirsty eyes staring him down and threatening his ruin in the most appetizing of ways.

demanding hands ran up and down his back, trailing to his front and tracing his stomach, his abs, his pecs, fingers running through every ridge and making him shudder through every second of it. his head found its rightful place resting in the crook of your neck, head turned to the side to breathe tiny gasps into your skin. andrew's knuckles remained white with the effort it took him to take in all your touches. it was an unfamiliar feeling, to have his entire being traced and memorized with such amorous touches.

he'd never been on the receiving end of infatuation, nor had he ever been quite good at being the giver of it. yet he was sitting there, his own fingers shyly reaching your hips again just so he could have a tiny taste of your warmth. you were greedier with your touch, shameless in getting your feel of him.

it was when you began trailing down his body that andrew broke himself out of his trance. when he felt the wet kisses go from his neck down to his chest, his abs, reaching his hips, his thighs, and ending at his cock.

his head was already being licked and sucked at before he could react. he was rarely one to be caught off guard, but the deep groan leaving his lips was enough indication to show just how much he'd lost himself in your affections.

you were on your knees as he laid back on the bed, legs settled on the ground from the side of it and back arching slightly when your tongue would sneak out and trace his slit in between sucks. your hands took whatever your mouth couldn't, following the rhythm of the bobs of your head. occasionally you'd pay attention to his balls, causing his hands to itch to hold your head and keep you there. but he couldn't bring himself to even try and take any control of the situation. he was willing to let you call the shots, let you run things however you wished if it meant he would be on the receiving end of it all.

his mind was fuzzy within minutes, fingers flexed as they gripped at the frilly sheets under him, hips doing their best to stay still and endure the torture your mouth provided without forcing himself further inside its wet warmth. his groans and huffs were muffled to the best of his ability, sometimes through sheer willpower, while occasionally by biting the back of his hand. the only other sound in the room was the squelch of your mouth as you played with him.

but then there were your own sounds.

looking down at the very first vibration against him, he found your eyes almost completely rolled back. your lips were pursed and releasing tiny gasps and cries around his dick. he could mostly feel the vibration of your sounds, but if he really tried, he could hear the tiny little whines you let out as you engulfed him. that, coupled by your nails dragging red lines down his thighs, made him groan in defeat.

because you were enjoying this. you were moaning louder by the passing minute, desperation taking over as you sped up your movements, nails digging so hard into him he was sure those marks would prevail for days on end. he could've come like this, could've given in and had the image of his cum being drained by your lips, could've ruined his own life with such an image imprinted in there. but he couldn't bring himself to be selfish when it came to you. he needed to atone for every soft demonstration of selfless affection you'd given him — he needed to make you feel as good as you did him, and then by a tenfold.

when he pulled you away from him, he was met with a petulant whine. pope wasn't one to laugh much, but it did almost pull a chuckle out of him to see how needy you were at that moment. he felt the same way, was just not secure enough to show it.

"nooo." you whined once you were back to straddling him, eyes meeting once more. "wanna make you come."

your eyes were heavy, lips swollen and wet with a mixture of saliva and pre cum. you weren't 100% there, clearly drowning in desire (just as he was, he was just better at hiding in plain sight). he exhaled deeply, mouth opening and closing a few times, wanting your lips on his own more than anything at that moment.

"you first."

you whined again. huffed, even. your lips met his again after that, needy, messy, wet and nasty. you wanted to give him a taste of himself, to show him what had you so obsessed past the point of critical thinking. and god, he adored it. he never imagined enjoying the taste of himself (and to be frank, he didn't), but he was convinced he'd swallow poison if it were delivered by your lips. a mess of teeth, tongues, bitten lips and bumping noses, but it created the most mind-numbing kiss he'd ever exchanged. his mind was so gone that he lost all reservations he'd had before and allowed his hands to be overcome with greed for your body. every inch was squeezed, pulled at and manhandled. he didn't care if he left you with bruises the next day (he would later, but for now he just wanted to melt into your skin, and this seemed like the closest way to do so).

as gently as he could manage, he flipped you over, hands wrapped around your frame, holding you against him and ending up above you. he wanted to copy your earlier actions, to kiss and lick every inch of your body until he had you wrecked under him. it wasn't that he wanted power over you, but he wanted to take every thought aside from him out of your head. just like you'd done from the moment he met you.

his lips trailed your jaw, unsure of where to start his mission. they eventually landed on that crook between your jaw and your neck, latching there and sucking a mark he knew you wouldn't be able to rid yourself of any time soon. he felt bad marking you, but a sick part of himself told him that this way he'd make sure anyone who saw them knew you were his — including you.

his hands held you still under him, legs straddling you and ensuring you wouldn't attempt to grind at him from underneath (which you were actively trying to do). when he landed on your chest, he sighed at the fat plush he found there, dragging his teeth down the skin until they came to contact with your areola and eventually your nipple. he hummed at your sigh of relief, wrapping his lips around it and sucking, nibbling at it and eventually pulling at it with his teeth. the same was done to your other nipple, receiving a handful of his hair being pulled at in a manner he could only describe as painful, but that felt like bliss at that moment.

it didn't take long for him to accomplish his mission, to make you grow desperate beneath him as he kissed every inch he could get his lips on. greedy, your hands dragged down his back, providing yet another space of his body that would be gifted with your marks. he groaned into your skin, returning the favor by filling your body with splotches of red and purple.

when he reached south, he took a detour from the part he'd been craving to taste the most, instead reaching the inside of your thighs and tasting the skin there. he held your legs open against your petulance to close them around his head (which he would've gladly accepted had it not gotten in his way).

andrew never thought himself to be a greedy man until this very moment. never knew he could be allowed to want to this extent, to take and get his fill and then go for some more. being rewarded for his greed was an entirely different concept completely foreign to him, receiving the breathiest moans of his name the closer he got to your middle.

and when he finally reached it, — nosing his way to your cunt, breathing in deep and shameless, your back arched, pressing yourself up against him and pushing his head down simultaneously — that's when he really lost all reservations. he dug in, fingers gripping the skin of your thighs as he pulled them apart to give space for his venture. licking from top to bottom, he landed on your clit, tip of his tongue running circles, figure 8's, his initials over and over again until your wails were so loud he knew that craig would be awoken from his nap next door due to them.

"andrew, i- fuck." you attempted.

multiple times you tried moaning out some sort of sentence, but he'd lose himself even more in you every time, taking a single syllable out of you as a challenge to ruin you far enough so you wouldn't be able to form a single word.

he groaned into you, shaking his head side to side as he licked and sucked at you, tongue going south to prod at your hole and lick away at your juices. feeding off your whines, he dug himself closer, his nose now digging into your clit as he licked into your hole.

"i'm- i'm almost there, shit. please don't stop. please please, shit, please, baby. i need-"

he blanked out the rest of your pleas. they all went straight to a corner of his mind he rarely ever visited. and there they would remain for the rest of his life, accompanying him the next time he felt deserving of your sweet whiny voice begging for him.

as you continued to cry out his name, your orgasm built up, taking over you unexpectedly as your legs clamped around his head, muffling your shrieks of his name. andrew could not have this — no, if his name was leaving your lips, he needed to be able to give it his full attention. he continued to hold you open, straining his arms as you subconsciously fought against him. the pleasure was too much for you. you writhed and cried and shook on the bed, making it hard for andrew's hips to continue to occasionally grind against the side of the mattress as they'd been doing from the moment he got his tongue on you.

he said nothing as he pulled away, instead kissing your ankle before trailing his way back up your body with his lips just as he'd traveled his way down. ignoring the hardness between his legs, he straddled you, lips curling up slightly when you pulled him down to your lips with haste.

nothing was more enjoyable to him than your taste, nothing but your own tongue trying to lick its remnants out of his own. pulling at his hair, you held him against you, greedy in the same way he'd been between your legs.

"you taste so good." he mumbled. "d'you like it?"

"mhm" it was high pitched and distracted, anxious to get back to his lips. "felt so good, andrew."

your legs wrapped around his middle, pulling his center closer to your own and grinding up.

"want more." you licked into his mouth as you said it.

"yeah?"

you nodded, hands antsy. he could feel your desperation for him in various ways. from your hands to the wetness between your legs, he knew you were genuine about your need for him, for his touch. he couldn't understand why you needed him, but he needed you so badly in return that he was unwilling to question it.

"condom?" he remembered from earlier. "i don't have one."

"like this. i'm clean. promise."

he nodded along, offered a similar affirmation before finally sneaking his hand between you. he was so pent up he groaned at his own touch, body shuddering when you whispered encouragement in his ear.

"oh, andrew." you sighed when he dragged himself up and down your slit. it made a squelching sound. it made him groan how you tried to squeeze around him when he passed by your opening. your body was begging for him; so were you.

andrew was no stranger to carnal pleasure. but it was never more than that — carnal. it was always a quick affair. in and out, a simple exchange of temporary pleasure. he'd never had anyone look at him the way you did at that moment. never had anyone's eyes widen and eyebrows furrow as they looked up at him, hands gripping at his shoulders as if they'd die if he dared pull away. that was only you.

he entered you at last, groaning an expletive that barely made its way out of his lips. you gripped him like you dreaded ever letting him leave. he was trapped inside you, and he was happy to be.

"fuck, andrew, you're perfect."

just like him, you were breathless. your mouth was agape, chin tilted up and silently begging for another kiss.

he didn't fuck you fast and hard. this wasn't some exchange; it was a beginning. he'd have time to let his carnal desires take over some day in the future (seeing as you were his now — you hadn't discussed it, but he knew). today he needed to show you how he felt.

never one good with words, andrew let the hammering of his hips speak for him, let the wet kisses pressed against your skin tell you how he already felt like he was in love. he'd had a taste of your kindness, your sweetness, your affection, and suddenly he couldn't imagine getting by another minute without it.

"you're perfect." he corrected.

you grunted lowly, your heels pressing into his ass to push him closer. when he followed your direction, giving you more and more, your cries of his name rewarded him. you gasped and choked around the two syllables that formed his name, sometimes replacing it for an expletive or for a 'baby' or a whiny praise for how good you felt.

andrew felt like he'd explode. praise wasn't his forte, but the whispered words of affirmation couldn't stop leaving his lips as he interrupted your wet kisses with them. he was even worse at receiving it, but his ears still blushed a deep red when you'd cry his name with a specific intonation that had him reeling, or when you'd scream how good he felt inside you.

you were heaven around him, made him forget about every piece of hell he'd been dealt with up until this moment. it all felt worth it now. it all made sense if this was what god had sent down to him for atonement for his suffering. greed kept growing within him as he enjoyed you, gasping when you'd squeeze around him every time he hit that spot that made your eyes cross.

"w-wanna cum. fuck, andrew. please, wanna come. want y-you to come with me."

his head fell on your shoulder. fuck. he could barely hold back when you sounded so broken for him. his hands gripped the back of your legs even tighter, pulling your back off the bed and carrying most of your body weight against him as his hips lost control. his strength had finally proved useful for something other than destruction.

"yes, oh, god, and-andrew! i'm right there."

"do it." he huffed. "do it with me."

your orgasm came first, slightly unexpected as you lost yourself under him. andrew couldn't handle it, couldn't withstand the sight nor the feeling of you melting into him. your orgasm dragged his out of him, making him let out an embarrassingly broken groan he'd tried but failed to muffle with your skin.

in that moment andrew decided that you were his. as you gasped and cried out his name, nails digging crescent moons onto his shoulders, andrew knew that this was a forever thing.

it was too soon, he knew this, but that'd never stopped his feelings from materializing. he'd known from the moment he saw you that he'd be infatuated upon the first touch. and now, having gone beyond his wildest thoughts, he knew he'd be addicted to you forever.

the soaked velvet of your walls spasmed around him, making him never want to leave that space between your legs he'd marked as his own. no part of you would ever belong to anyone else, and andrew would make sure of it. a sick part of him hoped that this first time would be enough to tie you to him forever, recalling the lack of condom as he felt every fiber of yourself wrapped around him.

he knew these were sick fantasies that would likely scare away anyone else. but not you. tilting his head up, he met your eyes, blown out as your orgasm seized.

and with just one look he knew you were just as sick for him as he was for you.

➽──────────────────❥

"you have a lot of scars."

"yeah."

"i'm sorry."

you turned your body closer to his. your hands had been shyly tracing over the many scars on his torso, some on his arms. it felt gentle, your touch. andrew had no hesitation in letting you touch him, knowing you were incapable of causing him any sort of pain.

still, he felt inadequate.

he didn't want to explain his scars. wanted to hide them and prevent you from ever knowing what had brought them on. he was afraid of what you'd think, how you'd look at him if you knew what he truly was.

"for what?"

"i'm not sure." you mumbled. "just hate that you've ever been hurt." you leaned down then, kissing the spots on his chest you'd just been tracing. when you were done, you squirmed your way back to his eyeline, pecking his lips softly, slowly.

"i'm not hurt now."

"yeah."

there was comforting silence between you after that. his arms continued to hold you against him, your hands now wrapped around him rather than exploring his body.

he hesitated for a moment before breaking the silence, swallowing as he did so.

"i'm sorry about watching you through your window."

you didn't respond at first. the two of you just laid next to each other, with him only receiving a hum in response as your nose dug into his chest, breathing him in.

"i'm not."

"did you ... did you do it on purpose?"

"not at first." you responded. "but then i saw you roughhousing with your brothers through the backyard and, i dunno, i just liked you."

"why?"

it was incomprehensible to him. he knew people were scared of him. that one look was enough to get people turning their backs on him, uncomfortable with his mere presence. it used to bother him at some point, but he'd grown so used to it by now that he'd forgotten it was possible to find someone who didn't feel that way about him.

"i just like you."

you said it with a kiss to his chest, a soft scratch of nails to his stomach and what almost sounded like a purr as you cuddled into him. all were signs that you found comfort in his presence, something which andrew was afraid to get used to.

but you made it so easy. you made him want to curl up against you and breathe in the flowery scent of your shampoo. and so he did just that. he laid next to you, tracing nonsensical shapes on the skin of your hip as you fell asleep in his arms.

the next morning he'd wake up nuzzled into your chest, hands already awake and running through his hair, comforting him in a way he'd never been before. he'd lay there and wonder if he could make this a reality.

he wondered if he could pay off your lease and take you away.

➽──────────────────❥

idk what that ending bit was but lets pretend reader is a little dumb and already in love with andrew and they run away together forever yayyy

#pope cody #pope cody x reader #pope cody fanfiction #pope cody fanfic #pope cody smut #andrew pope cody x reader #andrew pope cody #andrew cody x reader #andrew cody fanfiction #andrew cody smut #andrew pope cody smut #andrew cody

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clockwayswrites · 11 months ago

Text

Birds and wings and hope Part 13

Masterpost

Danny had thought hat if he finished with Frostbite early that he would spend a few days in the zone to catch up with some of the other ghosts. He hadn’t wanted to with the wings. It wasn’t that Danny was ashamed of the wings, not from the fact of having different features, but Frostbite had seemed certain that Danny was in a heavily mutable state right then. The more people that knew Phantom with wings, the more likely they were to stick as they cemented in consciousness and identity.

Or something like that.

Danny had a whole stack of reading tucked away in his chest to go through later.

Just wanting time alone, Danny had given himself somewhere between an hour and a day (time was hard to tell in the zone) to sulk among the sparks and dust that were long dead stars before forced himself to get a grip and go home. He was an adult for, well, him sake he guessed. He could deal with this.

The reading set on the left side of the coffee table with a fresh notebook next to it. It wouldn’t do to mix up this work with his actual work, so Danny was sure to pick out one with a green cover from the stash that he kept on hand of his favorite dot patterned paper notebooks. He’d draw a blob ghost or something on it later. A few color pens and a highlighter joined the little pile, set in a battered and chipped Amity Park tourist trap mug.

Sam had gotten it for Danny as a present due to the so hideous it was funny caricature of Phantom on it.

On the right side of the coffee table went a box of protein bars, electrolyte drinks, suck’em candies, and Danny’s well stocked pill container. He moved the coffee table a little closer to the couch, turned the TV on to a playlist of Mythbuster episodes, and made sure he had his favorite blanket in hand before he transformed back.

And fuck that hurt. Pain shot up Danny’s back, radiating up through his shoulders, and shooting along his Lichtenberg scars so intensely that they burned. Danny collapsed inelegantly onto the couch with a defeated whimper.

Maybe it was the wings? Did having a different set of limbs as a ghost cause transfered muscle aches to his human form? He didn’t even have muscles as a ghost, not really, but the mind was a very powerful thing and not even Frostbite was entirely sure of how exactly the two parts of a halfa effected each other.

After the worst of the pain had dulled slightly, Danny managed to toss back his medication (missing doses while Phantom never did him any good) and pulled the candies close enough that he could use them as a distraction for his senses. Slowly the muscle relaxant worked its magic and Danny became a boneless lump. The episodes of Mythbusters idly distracted him as he just let his thoughts drift over what Frostbite had said.

Frostbite was sure that there had to be a reason— or several— that Danny’s form had shifted into a bird and after retained the wings still. Frostbite felt the first step to this all, if Danny was determined to either control or to get an understanding of where this all was going, was to understand the subconscious or symbolic particulars of the change.

The why Frostbite felt was clear: Danny had been without a haunt for too long now. Yes, he accepted, the pollen may have certain accelerated matters (hence the full bird then and only the wings now), but Frostbite was admit that the change wouldn’t have been occurring at this stage if Phantom had still been the protector of Amity Park.

Phantom had a purpose in Amity Park. Phantom was a protector and guardian. That guardianship extended to a very limited range. Now that Amity Park was many, many years behind him and Danny was living in a place already full of its own protectors, the Phantom part of Danny was left adrift which allowed for this new stage of ghosthood.

Why couldn’t his ghost half just be happy with a nice long nap?

“Fuck you, Phantom,” Danny grumbled as he watched a car be vaporized upon impact on the screen. Idly Danny wondered if he could get an object up to that speed if he flew fast enough.

Several hours and several protein bars later, Danny was managing to sit up enough to start going through some of the reading Frostbite had sent and make notes. Two more episodes and delivered Indian food later, Danny scrawled on the top of a fresh page ‘The Subconscious & Symbolic Particulars of Wings’.

Why on earth and beyond did he have wings?

‘Flying’, Danny wrote first and then as many reasons he could think of why he loved flying from the freedom of it to space to the way that it felt to move through a cloud. ‘Freedom’ branched off into movement and escape and getting to become his own person without the weight of Amity. ‘Gravity’ and ‘Identity’ sprawled into transformation and his death and the million of ways that it had changed everything about his life.

It was hard to think about.

Danny turned the page.

‘Wings’. Wings and feathers. Birds. Pigeons and crows and ducks and robins. And Robins. Biblically accurate angels who created the cosmos. Hope. And always hope.

“‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers — ”

Hope and Robins and Bats.

And always hope.

Was Gotham his haunt?

Was he the thing with feathers?

---

AN: shhhhh I've been writing as my wind down before sleep. Also special prize for @stoiczee. I promise we'll see more batfam next part. Danny just needed some time to react!

#dp x dc #birdritch

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haologram · 4 months ago

Text

wish you were here 🪻 j.ww [m]

synopsis: you don't do long-distance. you never have, and you never will. not unless it's jeon wonwoo - and those chances are slim, as it is. genre: situationship au ; fluff, angst, suggestive themes. pairing: situationship!jeon wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 6.5k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, alcohol. drunken confessions, pining. kissing...that's about it. what to listen to: completely - jaehyun ; love of my life - harry styles ; sleepwalking - james arthur ; can't get you out of my head - johnny goth ; wish you were here - superm. author's note: after receiving that horrible enlistment message from pledis, i've decided to hurt myself even more! welcome back to haologram, where we wallow in despair. i know this might be similar to my previous wonwoo fic, except it's not at all because it's 10x shittier and if you say that then you hate me and you don't have to read this ♡ i'm so SAD AUGH !!! anyway, floral dividers are by @/saradika-graphics ! enjoy.

– TUESDAY, 10:52PM.

Message From: Jeon Wonwoo [Yesterday] [11:49PM] i know i don't deserve to tell you this [11:49PM] but i miss you [11:49PM] and i know you're asleep but i wish you were here.

You're barely reading your messages from the night before.

You turned your phone off when Mingyu started spam calling you. You saw, from Tzuyu's location, that they had all gathered at their favorite bar, likely buying hoards of liquor to drown the sudden plummet in their chests when Wonwoo dropped the bomb on them.

A bomb he dropped on you – over text.

A singular text message, less than a week ago.

Message From: Jeon Wonwoo [4 Days Ago] [9:21AM] hey…i'm leaving town next month for a while. i got a good job offer overseas, and i took it without considering anything else. i'm sorry, and i think we should end whatever this is. at least for now.

You hadn't replied, only sat on the edge of your bed and felt your chest constrict.

His job wasn't the issue. It'd never be the issue, you wanted him to succeed. You wanted him to feel fulfilled.

The issue was him…well, it was…

Ugh.

"Stupid men." You muttered to yourself, taking a swig out of the bottle in your hand. It was the nasty bourbon he liked, the one that burned your esophagus all the way down. Your stomach wasn't empty, per say – there was a bag of chips sitting next to you on the couch. It wasn't as enticing as it usually was, but you didn't care that the salt and vinegar didn't pair well with your drink of choice. A drink that reminded you of Wonwoo, and would be the only thing that would once he was gone.

Unless you counted the smell of his cologne in your sheets. Or the hoodie that's draped over your shoulders, the plaid boxer shorts that belong to him covering your upper thighs. Or the champagne mustard you keep in your fridge specifically for him. Or the toothbrush he keeps at your apartment, despite the two of you being nothing more than friends.

Friends that kiss. Friends that undress each other in a frenzy, aching to feel the warmth of each other's skin. Friends that risk it every time, the raw feeling of skin on skin far too euphoric to give up.

Friends that say I love you in mumbles as they kiss, as they undress each other, as they give themselves to each other without a second thought.

Friends that had each other at arm's length for the last three years: you, because you were afraid of being too much.

And him, afraid of not being enough.

"I hate him." You mumble wearily, fumbling with the remote to flip through shows. You don't like anything, your eyes stinging with tears as you switch streaming services. Your Amazon Prime screen is too bright, and you flip through your Continue Watching…

Only to see his favorite movie sitting there, right after the last episode you'd watched of Bad Girls Club – Dead Poets Society.

Sighing, you toss your remote to the side and slide the bottle of bourbon onto the coffee table. You lean your head back onto the couch, feeling the effects of the liquor start to sink into your bones as you rustle the bag of chips. Popping one in your mouth, you chew lazily as the tears begin to slip down your face, rolling into the shells of your ears as you swallow.

"Wish you were here. What a fucking sadist."

You don't do long distance. You never have, you never will. And now, knowing that Wonwoo was leaving – the chances of you ever giving it a go were slim to fucking none.

Knock knock.

You jolt, coughing around the remains of the chip. The bag tips over, kettle chips scattering over your couch as you curse under your breath. You swipe them all back into the bag, dusting your couch off and scrunching the bag at the opening. You take a quick swig of the bottle, making a noise of disgust as it goes down.

Knock knock.

"Coming, I'm coming! God." You're wobbly on your legs, and you force yourself to concentrate as you toss the bag of chips onto your dining table. Not bothering to look through the peephole, you unlock your door to an apologetic Kim Mingyu holding a tipsy Jeon Wonwoo tight to his hip.

"No." You shake your head, moving to close the door when Mingyu gives you a pleading look. "Please, Y/N. He won't stop crying about you, and I don't know what to do anymore. I'll literally wait in the parking lot if you can't calm him down. Please, help me out." "Mingyu, I'm too drunk for this right now." You pinch the bridge of your nose, holding onto the frame of your door to keep steady. You're lying – you're not even near drunk. You're probably just as tipsy as Wonwoo is, and that's enough for you to not want him in your apartment. It would only end badly.

"Please, Y/N." Mingyu begs, and Wonwoo is seemingly staring straight through you. "Don't hate me." He mumbles, and you can't help but look up at Mingyu through teary eyes. "I'll be right downstairs, Y/N. I promise." He assures you gently, carefully shoving Wonwoo into the threshold. Wonwoo stumbles into your apartment, toeing his boots off in the foyer and disappearing into your kitchen. "I promise, Y/N. I think he just misses you." "He ended things, Mingyu." You whisper, hearing the door to your refrigerator open. You hear him jostling around the jars of condiments, and Mingyu runs a hand through his hair as he nods.

"I know, sweetie. He told me." He winces, before rubbing his face in frustration. "I think…maybe just talk. I'll be here, I swear." He holds out his pinky, and you weakly link your own as he ruffles your hair with your other hand. "I got you." "Thanks…" You murmur, before moving back to shut the door. Mingyu takes his leave, quietly clambering down the wet stone steps as you turn back into your apartment. You peer slightly into your kitchen, seeing Wonwoo holding a butter knife between his teeth as he fumbles with your jar of strawberry jam. He's got the bag of bread open on top of a plate and your toaster is on, peanut butter rolled on the counter haphazardly. You roll your eyes, watching as he stares at the jar with confusion before sighing.

"Y/N!" He calls, taking the butter knife from his mouth. He leans against the pantry door, his cheeks flushed as he calls your name again. "Y/N! I need your help!" "Idiot." You mutter to yourself, walking into the kitchen. He doesn't say anything as you grab the jar, spinning the top off with ease and holding it back out to him. He holds the knife out to you.

"It tastes better when you do it." He mumbles, his eyes low as you scoff. "Please? I didn't have dinner." You grumble inwardly as you turn away from him, fishing another knife out of the drawer as he slides the other one into the sink. You tuck your chin into your chest as you take the bread out of the toaster, chewing your cheek as you spread the jam thickly.

"This is mine." He tugs on the hem of the hoodie you're wearing, and you glance down at the brown material covering your torso. You shrug.

"So?" "So, I want it back." "You're in my apartment, not in my good graces and I'm holding a knife. I wouldn't test your fucking luck tonight, Jeon." You grit, before swiping the knife on the edge of the bread to get the jam off. You open the peanut butter, flicking the cap towards the backsplash of your countertop when you feel his hands fisting the fabric as he leans into you.

"I want you back. You're mine, too." He rests his head on the back of your neck, and if he feels your shoulders tense, he says nothing. "I want you. Always." "You're drunk." You mutter, feeling tears sting your eyes as you swipe a thick layer of peanut butter onto the toast. He groans, his breath warm against your neck and you can smell a light layer of grapefruit tequila on it. You liked the taste of it off his tongue, not so much out of the bottle.

"I need you." He tugged absently at the hoodie, "I need you to know that I love you, Y/N." "You're drunk, Wonwoo." Rolling your eyes, you stick the bread together and slice the tip of the knife diagonally, making two triangles. He was an iffy guy, never one to finish a sandwich alone. "Here. Eat." He doesn't take the sandwich, and you feel his hands grip your hips before turning you around with ease. Your face screams disinterest, but you can feel your chest heating at his proximity and the way his peachy cologne fills your nose. You meet his eyes, raising a brow as you take in the glassy look of his. "You're drunk." "I've had three shots and a beer, I am not drunk. I love you."

"Stop saying that." You shove the sandwich closer to his face, a pointed look in your eyes. It's like the bourbon you'd been drinking did nothing, because you're hyper aware of his every move and the very feeling of your blood coursing through your body. "Stop saying things you don't mean." "I've always meant it. I'll always mean it and I'll always feel it. I love you." He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he kneads his hands into your hips. You swallow a sob, feeling the ache in your throat as you look up to will away the tears threatening to fall.

"You dumped me." You forced your voice not to tremble, cursing yourself internally as a tear slipped. You wipe it away quickly, and he nods frantically. "I know, honey. I know, I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He buries his face into your neck, and you can feel his own tears begin to soak through the thick fabric. You sniffle, letting yourself breathe out around the lump in your throat shakily. "Please, forgive me. I'll beg. I'll do it, just don't leave me." "I've never left you, idiot." You scoff, staring at the sandwich in your hand. You make no effort to comfort him, to run your nails down his back in soothing spirals like you would before you would fall asleep facing each other. You make no effort to soothe him, his shoulders trembling as he cries into your (read: his) sweater. You let your tears stream freely, feeling Wonwoo's arms wrap tightly around your waist and pull you impossibly closer to him.

You've always been weak when it comes to Wonwoo. You proved it time and time again: when he needed you to fill the girlfriend role at his graduation party a few years ago so his aunt would stop trying to set him up with one of the neighborhood girls. When he kissed you in a fit of jealousy at a bar in front of a nice boy who was trying to buy you a drink, and you let him take you home. When he undressed you with ease in the comfort of his bedroom and sank his teeth into any part of your body he could reach in bouts of possession, any time you'd go over.

Something you never understood, because you weren't his. Not really, not ever.

"I love you, Y/N." "You're drunk. Sleep on the couch, we'll see how much you actually 'love' me in the morning." You mutter, shoving him off your body. You can't bring yourself to look at him, so you hold the sandwich up to his face, "Open." He pushes your hand away, "I love you." "Wonwoo–" "No, Y/N. I love you. I love you and I'm sorry. Please, let me love you the way you deserve and if I can't live up to it, I'll walk out of your life forever." His arms are still loosely wrapped around your waist, and he pulls you close. Your hands are squished between his body and yours, and you sigh inwardly. He plucks the sandwich from your hand, putting it back on the plate as he sniffles.

"Please. Just give me another chance." "You're leaving, Wonwoo. You're leaving me behind."

"Come with me. I'll buy your ticket, I'll even get someone to take over your lease and we can be together, I promise–" You cut him off with a shake of your head, closing your eyes.

"You're leaving. That's enough to want to move on, isn't it? You don't love me, Wonwoo. You love the thought of me." You mutter, "You love knowing I'm always here. You love knowing that I wait for you, time and time again. You love knowing that even when you fail, I show up." You open your eyes, peering up at him with a bit of poison dripping in your voice.

"You love having someone, it doesn't matter who it is. So find someone else." He doesn't reply, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he tilts his head to the side. His eyes narrow slightly, his arms loosening around your body. You move back a bit, your lower back hitting the edge of the counter as you cross your arms and look away. "How can I prove to you that that's not true?" You scoff, rubbing your face with one hand. It feels hot, and you're not sure if it's from the alcohol or the closing proximity between his chest and yours.

"Tell me. I'll do it. I'll do anything." His hands are on either side of you now, gripping the counter gently as his teary eyes scan your face. For a hint, for an emotion, anything that says you want him too.

You shake your head, feeling your chest constrict as you clear your throat. "There's nothing you can do, Wonwoo." "I'll rescind my offer. I'll drop it." He tested, and you shook your head slowly.

"There is nothing, Wonwoo. And I wouldn't want you to lose out on a major opportunity just because–"

"You are the major opportunity I'm missing out on. I took the fucking job because I couldn't stand the idea of not being enough for you. I couldn't stand laying in my room and thinking that one day you'll realize what a fucking coward I am and pick someone else. It was never about the fucking job, Y/N. It's about me not being enough for you, but still wanting to have my cake and eat it, too."

His eyes are full of sincerity, but something inside you burns.

"How can you say that about yourself?" You whispered, your eyes filling with tears as you looked up at him. "How can you think that, Wonwoo? Not enough? For me?"

He breathes out, looking at the ground between the two of you. Your socks are his, too.

"How can you not? How can you stand here, in my sweater and my boxers and my socks and tell me that you don't? Tell me that I'm a coward, tell me that I keep running from the things I love because I want to be enough and when I finally return, it'll be of no use. I'm trying to…I want…This is hard for me. Tell me it's not enough just to love you, and I'll do whatever it takes. Please." You can hardly see him through your tears, the vision of the broken man in front of you blurred just like many of your drunken memories with him. But you remember every single one. Every kiss, every caress, every drunken I love you. Every sober I love you.

Every single time Wonwoo showed up for you – when you needed a date to an office party so your coworkers would stop hounding you about going on a date with Hyesung from Finance. When you went on a trip with your sister and got stuck in the woods, and he drove over eight hours to get to you. When he picked you up from the shittiest date known to man, and drove you to his apartment – only to change you out of your uncomfortable dress and take you out for ice cream.

When he said I love you, every single time you needed him. Even if no one else was listening, even if you were both fully clothed and sitting in his car listening to music.

"Please." "We should talk in the morning. I'm tipsy, you're tipsy…" You trail off, your hands coming to rest on your eyes. The cool feeling of your fingertips was enough to get you to stop crying, "This is too much for right now. You're still leaving." "You're the only reason I'd stay." He admits quietly, his voice thick as you cross your arms again. You stand upright, tilting your head towards the sandwich on the plate. "Eat. I'll clean up the couch for you." He lets you slip out of the kitchen without a word, but you can feel the heat of his gaze on the back of your head. You're silent as you walk around your apartment, gathering your thickest blankets and a few pillows for him to rest on when you hear your phone buzzing incessantly on the coffee table.

Incoming call: Kim Mingyu

"Hello?" You tuck the phone between your shoulder and your cheek, and hear a sigh of relief.

"You okay? You didn't tear each other to shreds?" His voice is meek, making you snort. "It's fine, he's just tipsy. He's sleeping on the couch. I'll call you in the morning?" "You sure? I can come get him right now." You glance up, seeing Wonwoo staring at the calendar on the wall in your dining room. "Nah. Goodnight, Mingyu." "Keep me posted." You hang up, tossing the phone over your shoulder and moving the cushions around. You don't pay him any mind as he walks towards the bathroom, figuring he's going to brush his teeth. Fluffing pillows, you listen quietly as the water turns off and on, and the sound of the toothbrush moving back and forth.

You cap the bottle of bourbon and put it back on the second layer of the coffee table, where Wonwoo usually left it. You turn your television off, leaving the remote on the arm of the couch in case he wanted it or woke up in the middle of the night and wanted something to entertain him.

You turned off your lights, leaving the overhead stove light on for Wonwoo. It was odd to make up the couch for him – he never slept there, always in your bed. He'd wash his face, brush his teeth and snuggle into your side.

Walking towards your bedroom, you see him fishing out a pair of sweatpants from your last drawer and undoing his belt simultaneously. You roll your eyes, ducking into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. You let your mind wander as you do so, quietly doing your night routine and hearing Wonwoo walk about.

It brought you some comfort, hearing the floorboards creak under him.

Sighing, you looked at yourself in the mirror as you wiped the wet sink down. Eyes swollen and red from the tears, the shoulder of your sweater damp from Wonwoo. Wrinkled around the waist, from his grip on it.

You turned the light off, tucking your hands into the pocket of the hoodie and slipping into your bedroom.

Only to see him lying on your bed, under your purple duvet. His glasses are still on, but his eyes are closed.

"Wonwoo." "Mmh." "Wonwoo, go on the couch. You're not sleeping here tonight." You tapped his shoulder, only for him to hum in response. "Wonwoo. I'm serious." He peels an eye open, "I never sleep on the couch. I didn't sleep on the couch that one time everyone stayed over because they were too drunk to drive, you got me used to a life of luxury. Don't take it from me." You huff, crossing your arms on your chest as he closes his eye.

"Get in and shut up." "Yeah, right. Wonwoo, out." "No." "Wonwoo!" You groan in frustration, stomping your foot petulantly. You knew him. You knew he was stubborn as a fucking mule. "This is my apartment, I am not sleeping on the couch!" "Wow, crazy." He replies lazily, before plucking his glasses off his face and sliding them onto your nightstand. "Goodnight, Y/N." "Jeon Wonwoo, so help me God–"

He turns on his side, bringing the duvet further up on his shoulder as you gape at him.

Rubbing your face angrily, you round the bed and slide in. You turn your back to him, "Stay on your side." He doesn't respond.

– WEDNESDAY, 2:48AM.

You can't fall back asleep.

Instead, you're laying in bed facing Wonwoo – who did not stay on his side. Your leg had been pulled over his hip, his hand splayed across your lower back, under your sweater.

You were counting his eyelashes as he slept.

"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?" You start, your voice soft so as to not stir him. "You're a pain in my ass every single day, Jeon Wonwoo. You come into my life right when I'm going through one of the biggest transitions of my life, and you kiss me in the backseat of an Uber Pool. But no, you couldn't let it stop there, could you? You had to help me move into my apartment. You had to welcome me to the neighborhood, you couldn't just be the weird one-night-stand I met at a bar while celebrating my big move to the city. I would have never thought you'd be so outgoing." Your hand moved to gently brush his hair out of his face, your thumb moving down his sideburns gently before you traced the shell of his ear.

"And then you just kept coming around. I don't know what it was that made you keep coming over, and at first I thought nothing of it. I was fine with the sex, with the shared meals, and having a companion. You were nice, and you showed me a bunch of places, and you took pictures of me and helped me get them framed. Then you introduced me to Mingyu, and oh God. He's a whirlwind, isn't he? I love that guy." You sigh, lightly swiping your knuckles across his cheek as he breathes in quietly. "I love knowing you. I think it took me a minute to understand you better. We were never really just friends, but you made it feel like one of the most fulfilling friendships I'd ever had when we weren't fooling around. You engaged me, and you shared your passions with me. You drove me around when I didn't have a car, and I'll never forget when I called you scared out of my mind during that trip with my sister. You came. It took you eight hours but you came and I can't imagine ever not having you." Tears well up in your eyes, and you wipe them quickly before they can drop onto him.

"I love you, Wonwoo. Even if you're leaving. Even when I think I'm too much, you don't hesitate to calm that storm before it's even come to the surface. You've always been so gentle, and I can't imagine someone like you looking at someone like me, the complete opposite of you, and wanting that. I won't say for the rest of your life, because you're still going to be gone in a few weeks. But right now, at this moment, you're here. With me. And I love you."

You sniffle slightly, pressing your lips to his hairline in a featherlight kiss before closing your eyes. Your nose barely brushes his as you do, and you feel more tears slip out as you mumble again.

"I'll miss you." You don't see the crystalline tear slide down his face and sink into the pillow.

– WEDNESDAY, 3:15AM.

"I hate it when you cry. You always say you look bad, but you don't." Wonwoo's eyes are glued to your face, so close to his he can count every eyelash you have. His lips touch yours slightly as he speaks, but he can't bring himself to move back and risk waking you up.

"You'd never be too much for me. I was made to love you, even if you don't believe me. I said I'd walk out of your life forever if you didn't believe me, but I lied. I could never do that, and I've never felt more seen by someone in my entire life." He can't touch your face like you did him, because your arm is wrapped around his shoulder and your hand is nestled in his hair. He's satisfied with the warmth of your back on his palm, his thumb tracing light circles into it. He's satisfied with this, wanting to kiss you so deeply that he's the only thing you can taste for days.

He wants to be the only one who kisses you. For the rest of your life.

"I gave up the offer. You're going to be mad when I tell you, but I'd rather ask your forgiveness than have you think I wouldn't give up everything to have you. I'd give the shirt off my back in a winter storm in the middle of Minnesota if it meant I'd have you forever…but that would also probably mean death, so. I guess I'm saying I'd die for you." Your face scrunches suddenly, and you shift in your sleep. Your hand in his hair slides down, your fingertips breaching the collar of his shirt. He stops breathing as you run your nails across his skin gently, before it snakes back up to his hair. Your thumb moves in a circular motion behind his ear, before it stops and he feels a soft exhale from your lips.

Years of confessing to you in your sleep tell him you're still out.

"I love you, more than anything. I love that you keep champagne mustard in the fridge for me after I said I liked it once. I love that you called me when you needed that date to that office party, even if it was to get your coworkers off your back. To call you mine, in front of other people and even just have a taste of the idea…it ruined me. I can't think of anything else, with anyone else but you. Being in love with you feels like I'm constantly unwrapping a gift, but the wrapper is the gift. It makes you, it's everything you are." Wonwoo sighs, and your face shifts closer to him. Your forehead touches his, and he's sure if he says anything else, he'll be kissing your lips.

A reward so sweet, that he has yet to deserve.

But he speaks anyway, and hopes your heart hears him.

"You don't have to miss me. I'm here. Please, only miss me when I'm at work. Only miss me when I'm not able to come over because Mingyu conned me into going out with him and the guys. Only miss me when I'm asleep and can't talk to you, but know I dream of you. Know that everything I am is you, and even when you're asleep next to me, I wish you were here. Talking, telling me every thought that comes across your mind. I love it, I love knowing you. I love you, Y/N." He adjusts slightly, his nose bumping yours slightly but his lips no longer aligned with yours.

"Please, only miss me when I'm actually gone. Wish for me and I'll appear, my love." His eyes close, the sting of tears overwhelming as he buries himself into you as best as he can.

"I love you. Please, love me, too."

He doesn't see the pout on your lip when you hear him sniffle.

– WEDNESDAY, 5:53AM.

You're awake again, despite your protests to whatever God was out there.

Wonwoo is also awake, his eyes glued to your necklace. A chain, actually, that you stole from him a year ago. Classic. You're both frozen in position, your fingers tangled in his hair and his still on your back. Neither of you have said anything, and you're waiting for your alarm to go off so you can have an excuse to worm yourself out of his grasp. You have nowhere to go. You work from home, Wonwoo knows that.

"You work today." Your eyes glance down, seeing Wonwoo still staring at your neck. His voice is nice and raspy in the morning, and your fingers tighten in his hair out of reflex. He winces, and you grimace, rubbing the back of his head in apology.

"I do." He doesn't say anything, instead wiggling slightly to meet your eyes. He looks up at you, tired eyes scanning your face before he closes them. He hums. "Can we talk before you jump out and run with the excuse?" He murmurs, and you nearly scoff – when you realize he knows every trick in your book. You frown at yourself, before sighing. His eyes open, and you reach behind him to grab his glasses. He doesn't budge as you silently brush his hair out of his face, sliding them over his ears before settling back.

"...I suppose." "I love you." You feel your breath hitch in your chest, and you move to pull away from him when he shakes his head, holding you tightly to him. "Please, stay." His lips are too close to yours for you to say anything without brushing them. The ache to kiss him is deep in your stomach, but you will it away with a sigh.

"I love you." "I know, Wonwoo." "I love you so much, Y/N." He mumbles, his hand sliding out from under your sweater to your thigh, high on his hip. He pulls you impossibly closer, "It'd be selfish of me to want a life without you, when I know you feel the same."

You look away, your eyes glued to your headboard as you try to speak around the lump in your throat.

"What does it matter? You're leaving." His hand moves to your jaw, gently squeezing your cheeks together when you glance back down at him.

"I'm not, I won't be making that mistake again."

He presses his lips to yours, inhaling your soft sob as you kiss him back as best you can. He pushes you onto your back gently, never disconnecting his lips from yours as you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him flush to you. Your fingers find home in his hair, earning a soft groan into your mouth as you tug lightly. "I love you. Please, please believe me." His forehead is pressed to yours, lips brushing yours as he speaks. Your eyes dart all over his face, and you choose to swallow your insecurities. You choose to allow it – if he wants to love you, flaws and all…

It's his prerogative.

"Please." He begs, his hand cradling your jaw gently as he molds his lips to yours chastely. He holds you like you'll break, with such care as you look up at him. "Love me, too. Please."

"I heard you, earlier. When you said you rescinded the offer." You murmur, watching as he nods carefully. "You need to fix that. You need to take that job." He shakes his head, "No. I want to–" "You need to take it, Wonwoo." You repeat yourself, your eyes pointed as your hand wraps around his wrist. His eyes are full of worry, ignoring the way your thumb against his wrist tickles and the way your warmth against him is making his head spin. You look hesitant, but breathe out gently as you speak.

"I'll still be here. I promise, I'll still love you then." You whisper, watching as he nibbles on his lip before ultimately shaking his head. "I can't." "You can, and you will, Jeon Wonwoo."

"I can't. You'll be here and I'll be there…I couldn't even go a week without seeing you, what makes you think I can go six months?" He groans, slumping his forehead against your collarbone. You hum, running your hand through his hair.

"Well for one, I'm hoping things are more than just this–" "They are! They are, I love you. Please, be mine. Be my girlfriend." He jolts up, making you snort as he squishes your face with his hands, "Say yes. Say yes right now, before I lose my mind." "You could ask me over breakfast, at least. We could shower–" "Can you just answer?" "Together." His insistence stops, and he acts nonchalant as he leans back, his hands sliding on your thighs. He shrugs, tonguing his cheek, "I mean, if you insist. Together, and all." "You're such a fucking loser." You kick his hip lightly, making him huff as he pushes your foot away. "Go, start the water." You shove him away gently, and he casually slides off the bed, stretching his arms over his head. You look at the clock on your nightstand, 6:17AM. You furrow your brow, reaching for your phone and seeing your alarms had been turned off.

"What the hell?" "Oh, I turned them off last night when you were brushing your teeth." Wonwoo squeals as he sprints out of your bedroom, followed by a throw pillow being chucked after him. It hits the doorway as he skids into your bathroom.

"Missed me!" "You're dead when I get in there, Wonwoo!" It's silent for a second, before you hear the water start running…

And the lock click.

"I love you, too!"

– 2 MONTHS LATER: CHICAGO, ILLINOIS.

"Whoever said long distance was easy fucking lied." Wonwoo grumbles into the phone, "My paid week off isn't for another three weeks and I feel like I'm losing my mind. I wish you were here, sweetheart." He leans back in his desk chair, the clock reading 9:32PM. You're on the subway, he thinks. You've got a Pilates class you take during your lunch hour.

"I know, honey. Hey, on the plus side, I sent you a care package! There's lots of good stuff in there, it should arrive soon. I checked the tracking." Your voice is kind of strained as you talk, and Wonwoo frowns.

"The time difference is also a bitch. I'm about to go to bed and you're not even halfway through your day. You've got Pilates today, right?" He clicks around on his laptop, pulling up your shared calendar. He squints, seeing an added red section marked MINGYU lasting through the next three weeks. "What's going on with Mingyu?" "The time difference does fucking suck, I agree. As for Pilates, my instructor actually overbooked my session. She won't refund me, that old hag." You scoff, "Mingyu is going out of town, and he wanted me to see if Tzuyu needed anything. Tzuyu told me in the politest way possible that she wanted me to fuck off because she's going to spend her entire week sleeping. God, I wish that were me."

"Agreed. I've gotta get going, honey. If I don't go to bed now, I'll fuck my sleep schedule and this weekend is the only free one I have. I might go some places, pick some stuff up for you." He nods to himself, and you hum in response.

"I miss you."

He feels his heart sink. "We agreed we wouldn't say that, Y/N."

"I know, it's just…ugh."

"I'll be out there in three weeks. Before you even know it, I promise." Wonwoo rubs his eyes, seeing his doorbell pick up some movement on the app. "Hang on, I think your care package is here." "Ooh, unbox it with me! I wanna see the reaction." He laughs, "I'll send you a video. You need to get your camera fixed, this phone call shit is ridiculous." "Pay for it to get fixed, man! All that work abroad and nothing for the lonely sugar baby at home." You chide, making him snort.

"The most I've got to give you is all going to the ticket back to Seoul. You'll get some sugar soon. Hang on." He stands up, stretching his hands over his head as he walks to his door. He can still hear your disgusted sound from the foyer, and he peeks out his peephole to see no one on his doorstep but the box. He opens the door cautiously, the hinges in desperate need of ointment when he feels someone looking at him. He glances up, seeing you leaned against the wall in his brown hoodie, with your duffel bag swung over your shoulder. "Think you can give me that sugar now?"

He gapes, "You…I'm…Y/N." "Is that a no? After I flew all this way here?" You fold your arms across your chest, rolling your eyes with a flair of sass. "God, Wonwoo. You are the one that said wish for me, and I'll appear. I am here! I appeared!"

You're right, he did say that.

"Your phone camera isn't broken, is it?" He crosses his arms, and you grin, holding out your phone that's in perfect condition. "And Mingyu's at your place, isn't he?" "He wanted to deep clean my apartment! What was I supposed to do, say no?" You shrug, and Wonwoo just scoffs as he reaches for you, pulling you towards him by your belt loop. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "I missed you, Wonwoo." "I missed you, too. How long are you here?" He pushes the two of you into the apartment, inching the care package into the foyer before slamming the door with his foot. "Three weeks." You murmur against his lips, moving your arm to slip your duffel bag onto the floor. He hums in response, his hands gripping your waist as he maneuvers the two of you to his bedroom.

"Hungry?" "Nope." "Tired?" "Maybe when we're done."

Wonwoo doesn't do long distance. He never has, and he thought he never would. And now, knowing that you are the distance away that he needs to brace himself for – the chances of him ever giving it a go were undeniable.

He'd go days without seeing you, as long as you still loved him. He'd go weeks, months even, without seeing you as long as he still heard your voice before he went to bed and as he made his commute to work. He'd go years without seeing you, as long as he could wish you were there and you'd appear.

Yeah. Wonwoo does long distance. And so do you.

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