#Fuck finally someone said it and I'm not alone

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM DATE EVERYTHING (PART 1) *  assorted dialogue from the 2025 video game, adjust as necessary

i ordered this couch, but it popped, and now my kitchen is all wet and covered with wet stuff.

i need you. i need to care for you. it is the reason for my existence.

do you want to go on a date?

can you tell me how the book made you angry?

your life is about to change. hope you're ready.

let's go on a date right now.

trust me, this is going to go super well.

if everyone were friends, the world would be an awful lot safer in my opinion.

i've seen the complications of love. i've lived through the jealous quarrels of hate.

the true bond is one between two friends with none of the intricacies of romantic tension.

i like it much better up here where i can see your face.

hey there, stranger.

we've been sleeping together so many years, it would be a little weird if you didn't know me, don't you think?

it's a shame for someone as cute as you to be alone for so long, isn't it?

will you be bringing someone back here anytime soon?

i do hope you'll come talk to me. it'd be nice to finally get to know each other.

you've caught me at a strange time.

that's okay. i like being naked.

why are you here? what are you doing?

please, please... i'm not ready. not like this.

i've dreamed of this, of meeting you, finally... and now the moment is here, i... i just can't. not yet.

honestly, that's a objectively terrible password.

i get chills just thinking about it.

i would love to answer that for you, but the knowledge would no doubt drive you to madness.

can i be honest about something?

it's just that... before today, i had all these needs, but i couldn't articulate them to anyone.

you're quite the looker, aren't you?

i have had enough attention on me, thank you very much.

i can't say i'm looking for anything too serious right now.

i just want to see you live a little, that's all! stop watching life pass you by! enjoy yourself! kiss someone! kiss many someones!

my senses are heightened when i'm in a mood.

the physical connection between him and me... it is like nothing i have known before or since.

thank you, sincerely, for listening.

you're serious? you're not fucking with me?

do you, like me, enjoy celebrating at the altar of your own glorious form?

i knew i could count on you.

are you as excited as i am?

you are radiant.

i was thinking we could visit some very naughty websites together.

honestly, you're being super disrespectful.

we'll have to work on that enthusiasm.

get out. i've got work to do.

what brings you to the call of night?

i have been waiting in the abyss in search of a companion.

you? i always thought of you as a companion, someone who followed me around and gave me advice. cute, but expendable.

do you enjoy coming here?

i assume you brought your tools and knowledge and... probably a snack of some sort?

i am beside myself with happiness.

what can i do for you?

today was supposed to be my day off.

how much do you think about me?

for you, there is almost nothing i wouldn't do to help you relax.

to know that i'm giving you precisely the thing you want at that moment... oh, it fulfills me. it makes me whole.

as soon as i fulfill your command, your desire, i become the one with the power.

sometimes i cannot resist playing your sensation. just a bit. i am a craftsman and you are my clay.

now i have truly said too much.

i'd be lying if i said i wasn't just a little bit sweet on you.

hold onto me real tight.

[flowery-mess]

*it's how I read this in the middle*

I love this so so much🥹 you're so good at writing this plot, I love every chapter, but every chapter makes me sad that we're closer to the end🥺

“Word is your friend Sebastian has a decent shot at winning tonight.”

Did you mean boyfriend, Kole?

But I bet that she's coming too

“What if I came too?”

Knew it

Lately, we haven’t really had time together.

SHE DID NOT JUST USE THAT

"A face of someone who is madly in love."

Yep Amber, knock some sense in her

God, when I’m with him, it’s like my brain shuts up. Everything goes quiet and he is so fucking kind and funny and sweet and he deserves way better that all of this.

“You should break up with Kole.”

Please, please, please

“But hey, you need to promise me one thing.”

“No fighting in that place. Not in that ring. Not anywhere like it.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Miles looked at Noah, his eyes curious. “Hey, have you seen that girl again?”

I love those kids

“Yeah, I’m fighting tonight. But I don’t think she’s coming.”

“Maybe she’ll surprise you. Maybe she’ll come just to see you.”

Those boys are little match makers, this is cute

And just like that, the rest of the noise faded.

And I just know that his head did the same🥺

It mattered how the corners of his eyes crinkled into soft lines whenever you said something stupid that made him laugh. It was all the little things.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

He wasn’t brutal. He didn’t want to hurt him more, not like the man that kept hitting him when Noah was already on the ground, bleeding and basically passed out.

Because he's a nice guy, too nice to be doing something like that🥹

He was bleeding.

He was breathless.

And he was so fucking beautiful.

😩😩😩😩 I'm not ever getting over this fic

Had he really just left? Without saying anything to you?

Did he go check on the other guy??????🥺

There, down at the end of the alley, was Noah.

And he wasn’t alone.

He did🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

His hand, still wrapped, came up slowly, almost hesitantly, and covered yours, pressing your palm more firmly to his face. His fingers curled slightly, holding your hand like there. His brown, almond shaped, eyes searched yours in the dark, the rain tracing paths through his hair, across his skin.

His torso was a map of ink, you could see roses, a sketon, a lantern, the word "desolate".

The desolate tattoo will be always my breaking point

“Yeah but, I mean” he nodded toward his hands. “You're good at being gentle.”

You're the best at writing gentle fics🥺🤍

Kole was laughing with his friends, a bottle in one hand and a pretty girl with dark curls perched on his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist as he told her yes, of course they’d see each other again, his girlfriend would never find out.

YES YES YES, AAAAAA, I hope she finds them and maybe Noah sees it too and breaks his face and they end up happy together finally

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Pairing: underground fighter! noah x reader

Series summary: You’re dragged to watch an illegal fight, and after the match, you meet Noah, a fighter who seems to be battling more than just his opponents.

Tw: fighting, blood, cheating

Series mastelist

It was still early morning. You were in the kitchen, sat at the small table, cupping your hands around your mug.

Kole stood leaning against the counter, thumbs moving rapidly across his phone screen, barely looking up. His hair was still messy from sleep, and he hadn’t said much yet, just grunted a “morning” when you walked in and he was already in the room.

He smirked at something on his screen. "I’m going to a match tonight."

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Don’t wait up.”

“Alright.”

A moment passed. You took a sip of your coffee, trying to seem casual. Then he added, glancing up from his phone, “Word is your friend Sebastian has a decent shot at winning tonight.”

You froze with your mug halfway to your lips. Your eyes flicked to his, trying not to look startled. He was teasing you, sure, but that sounded like it was actually true.

Noah.

Noah was fighting tonight.

You hadn’t known. You hadn’t planned for this.

And then, before you could stop yourself, the words were out of your mouth, trying to sound casual and not like you had been thinking about him every single minute since you last saw him. “What if I came too?”

Kole looked up for real this time. “You? You hate that place.”

“I know,” you said quickly, “I do. But... I don’t know. Lately, we haven’t really had time together. Between our work schedules and you being out most nights... I thought maybe we could just do something together, even if it’s just this.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

A pause. Then he shrugged, going back to his phone. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll pick you up after work.”

“Perfect.” You smiled.

You sipped your coffee again, and stared down into the dark swirl inside your mug. Your stomach was twisting.

Because you’d just lied to your boyfriend.

Because you knew it wasn’t about spending time with him. Not really.

It was about Noah. And about the fact you were really dying to see him again and wanted to make sure he was okay after the fight.

After a couple of hours, you were at the tattoo shop.

Amber sat on the other side of the counter, perched on a stool, sipping from a to-go cup she’d brought in from the café down the street. She was wearing a bright red leather jacket and had her sunglasses pushed up into her hair, twirling a sugar packet between her fingers, focused on what you were saying.

It seemed like Nick kind of liked Amber, he never said anything when she came by the shop, even if she wasn’t there for a tattoo, but just because she wanted to chat with you inbetween calls. And after she posted those stories of her new tattoo on Instagram, the shop’s account gained over a hundred new followers overnight. So really, no one could complain about her being around.

“…and then he just showed up here. Said he wanted to say hi and see the place.” You continued.

"That man is in love with you."

"Amber, what the fuck?" 

"He borrowed his neighbor’s car, drove for an hour, and tracked down where you worked, armed with nothing but the name, just to see you."

You looked at her like she was delirious. "We are just friends."

"How can I believe you when you have that face when you talk about him?"

"What face?"

"A face of someone who is madly in love." She said before adding, "with someone that is not Kole. You’ve got that dumb little twisty look on your face. Like when you lied to your mom in high school and told her you didn’t like that guy from the gas station who wore leather bracelets.”

You gave her a deadpan stare. “That was one time.”

“It’s the same look,” she said.

You covered your face with your hands. “God. I’m such a mess.”

Amber laughed, moving her blonde hair behind her shoulders. “And also a bad liar.”

“He’s fighting tonight.”

She straightened.  “And let me guess… you’re going?”

“Yeah,” you said, avoiding her gaze.

“With Kole?”

You hesitated. “I told him I wanted to go. To spend time together. But…”

Amber’s mouth twisted. “But really, you’re going for Noah.”

You didn’t say anything.

She sighed, soft but not judging. “You gonna tell Kole that?”

“I can’t. And I won’t. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong. I just want to be there.”

Amber’s voice gentled. “You mean you wanted to be wherever Noah was.”

“I just…” You ran a hand through your hair. “It’s not like I planned this. I didn’t go looking for it. It’s just... God, when I’m with him, it’s like my brain shuts up. Everything goes quiet and he is so fucking kind and funny and sweet and he deserves way better that all of this. And I'm just—”

"In love with him." Amber finished your sentence.

You looked at her, said nothing.

And that silence spoke for you. Because Amber knew. You both knew.

"I don't know what to do," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You should break up with Kole.”

You let out a shaky breath, looking down at your hands, fingers twisting the edge of a random piece of paper on the counter, until it tore. “I don’t even know if Noah likes me like that.”

Amber tilted her head, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Please stop.”

You didn’t look up.

“I’m serious,” she went on. “You’re telling me the man used the sidewalk rule, and you’re still wondering if he likes you?”

You gave a small, helpless shrug. “Maybe he’s just… like that.”

“Sweetheart, open your eyes.”

You covered your face again. “I can’t just walk away from Kole. I still... care about him, okay? When we got together we were just teenagers... basically kids. I basically grew up with him by my side.”

Amber’s voice softened. “I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m just saying staying with someone you don’t love anymore is a slow way to kill both of you.”

That stung, mostly because it was true. You felt it in your chest, that ache you kept trying to ignore every time Kole kissed you and you were starting to feel nothing. And every time Noah looked at you and you felt everything.

“I just need time,” you said quietly.

Amber looked at you for a second. “Okay,” she said. “Just… don’t let it be too much.”

You nodded. “No. I’ll figure it out soon. I promise.”

“Good,” she said, reaching out to squeeze your wrist gently. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

“I know. Thank you.”

There was a pause then, she didn’t say anything else for a moment, just sipped her coffee and looked around the shop like she was giving you the space to breathe. Then, with a small smile, she said:

“You know I’m gonna want to meet him, right?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Noah.”

You groaned. “Oh my God, Amber—”

“No, I’m serious,” she grinned. “You bring him to breakfast one day. I’ll be nice. I just wanna know what the hell kind of man makes you turn into this.”

You narrowed your eyes. “This?”

She gestured to your whole body, dramatically. “This. All blushy and dreamy and heart-eyed and trying to act like you’re not.”

You laughed despite yourself. “Yeah, cause that wouldn’t be weird at all. ‘Hi Noah, this is my best friend Amber, she thinks we’re in love and would like to interrogate you over pancakes.’”

Amber shrugged. “I mean, you are in love.”

You rolled your eyes. Just then, Nick, tattooing a woman’s leg a little ways off, called out, "Hey, can you come here for a second?"

You stood up and started to walk over.

Amber’s voice followed you. "Don’t do anything stupid tonight."

You sighed. "I’m not the one stepping into a ring to fight."

Miles and Theo stood in the building's biggest room, as Noah had promised them. The heavy punching bag hung low from the ceiling, swinging slightly every time it was nudged.

Noah watched them with an amused smile as they took turns throwing punches, with more enthusiasm than technique, their little hands wrapped in tape.

“Easy, easy!” he called out, stepping forward to show them how to keep their wrists straight. “You don’t want to hurt your hands. Punch with your whole body, not just your arms.”

Theo swung a bit too hard and staggered backward, both boys breaking into laughter.

“See?” Noah grinned. “This isn’t just about hitting hard. It’s about control. Balance. Timing.”

The kids exchanged mischievous looks, then started a mock boxing match with each other, giggling and dodging. Noah shook his head, trying to keep a straight face as Theo pretended to throw a knockout punch that sent Miles sprawling onto the ground.

“You guys are gonna be pros in no time.” he joked.

Then, his tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious as he crouched down a bit, to their level. “But hey, you need to promise me one thing.”

The boys nodded.

“No fighting in that place. Not in that ring. Not anywhere like it.”

Theo frowned. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not a good place. People get hurt there. Really hurt. What they do, what we do... is not nice. Or funny.  ”

“Okay,” Miles simply said.

“Promise me?” Noah pressed.

“Promise,” they said together.

Noah smiled softly, ruffling their hair. “Good. That’s all I ask.”

They kept punching the bag and pretending to fight for almost an hour. Then, they finally slowed down and sat on the ground to take a break.

Miles looked at Noah, his eyes curious. “Hey, have you seen that girl again?”

Noah chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead as he sat cross-legged between them. “Yeah, I’ve seen her.”

Theo’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s not your girlfriend yet, is she?”

Noah let out a long, amused sigh. “Still with that question, huh? No, she’s not.”

Miles exchanged a look with Theo, clearly unconvinced. “So, she’s gonna be at the match tonight? Mom said you’re fighting.”

Noah slowly nodded, “Yeah, I’m fighting tonight. But I don’t think she’s coming.”

“Maybe she’ll surprise you. Maybe she’ll come just to see you.”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t count on it.”

“You’re gonna win, right?” Miles asked.

“I guess you’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out.”

The fight club was already full of people by the time you arrived with Kole.

He slung an arm around your shoulders as you stepped inside, grinning as he spotted familiar faces. “Hey!” he called out, weaving through the bodies to reach a group of his friends. You followed close, but your eyes were already scanning the room.

He had to be here already.

Your gaze swept across the dimly lit corners, the fluorescent lights above the ring, the benches along the walls, and then you saw him.

Noah was seated on a chair in the far corner, elbows resting on his knees, his head lowered like he was mentally someplace else. He wore a white tank top and black shorts, his hands already wrapped. When he lifted his head, as if he felt your eyes on him, your gazes locked.

And just like that, the rest of the noise faded.

Kole was still talking, laughing with his friends beside you but you almost didn't hear any of that.

“How much did you bet?” someone asked.

“Wait, on who?” another said.

“Nah, man, I’m telling you, Sebastian’s got it in the bag tonight.”

"I'm not sure about that."

You tore your eyes away from Noah and smiled weakly at Kole. “I’ll be right back,” you said, already stepping away before he could ask where you were going.

Noah stood as you approached. “Hey,” he said, voice warm.

“Hi,” you replied, your heart suddenly loud in your chest.

He tilted his head a little. “Let me guess, your boyfriend dragged you here again?”

You shook your head. “No. I wanted to come. I knew you were fighting tonight.”

“So you came to watch me lose again.”

You smiled faintly, stepping a little closer. “I came to make sure you’re okay after the match. No matter how tonight goes.”

For a moment, he just looked at you. Like maybe he didn’t know what to do with that kind of answer.

He gave a quiet laugh under his breath and shook his head. “I don’t know if I should thank you for coming, tell you I’m glad to see you… or tell you that maybe you shouldn’t have.”

You shrugged, your voice gentle. “Say whatever you want. I’m already here either way.”

There was a pause. Then he nodded once. “Okay. Then… thank you for coming. And yeah...” his voice softened, “I’m glad to see you.”

He started to lift a hand, slow and hesitant, like he meant to touch your arm, but he stopped just short, curling his fingers into a loose fist instead.

Before either of you could say anything else, someone shouted across the room.

“Sebastian! Let’s go, man! You're about to start!”

Noah turned his head at the sound, then glanced back at you. “I have to go.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“I’ll see you after the match?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He had started to turn when your voice stopped him. “Wait,” you said, reaching out and catching his hand gently. The tape was rough under your fingers, and he looked at you with a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

Then you stood up on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck.

It was fast, spontaneous, maybe a bit reckless, but you didn’t care.

He froze for a moment, startled, and then his arms came around you. One hand rested carefully on your back, fingers pressing lightly, like he was afraid to hold on too tightly.

His skin was warm against yours. He didn’t smell like any particular cologne, not like the ones Kole always wore, just of sweat and cheat soap.

And when you caught yourself thinking that you could happily spend the rest of your life waking up to the scent of him, your head tucked against his neck, in bed, with him, you realized you were doomed.

Because Noah wasn’t Kole.

Noah was Noah.

And you loved Noah more with every passing day.

Because it didn’t matter what he smelled like, what he wore, or where he lived.

What mattered was the way his eyes had found you instantly the moment you looked at him across the room, the way he kept trying to tell you that you shouldn’t be there, not to push you away, not really, not anymore, but to protect you. (Not like your boyfriend, who would’ve dragged you there every night without a second thought.)

It mattered how the corners of his eyes crinkled into soft lines whenever you said something stupid that made him laugh. It was all the little things.

He didn’t say anything.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him. “Good luck,” you whispered.

And then, just like that, it was over.

He gave you a little smile and a nod. And then he was gone, weaving through the crowd toward the ring.

You turned back toward Kole, who was still laughing with his friends, his back to you. You slipped quietly back to his side just as movement in the ring caught your eye.

Noah climbed in, followed by his oppenent. The other fighter was a bit shorter, leaner, with tousled strawberry blond hair that curled slightly at the edges, and he looked at least few years younger, though in a place like this, age meant very little. What mattered was how fast you could hit and how long you could stay standing.

You barely had time to brace yourself. There was no bell, no formal start, like the first time you've been there. Just a voice somewhere in the crowd yelling “go!”

And they did.

The blond struck first with a fast jab. Noah dodged, slipped just left of the hit and came back with a jab of his own that landed clean on the side of the boy’s jaw. The crowd started screaming. Your hands clenched unconsciously at your sides.

Noah’s expression didn’t change, staying composed.

The next few blows were quick, rapid exchanges of fists and footwork, Noah always adjusting, always circling. He took a punch to the shoulder that made him grunt, but he didn’t back off. Another clipped his ribs, sharp enough to twist his torso, and you flinched hard enough for Kole to glance sideways at you. You barely noticed.

Then came a hit to his face, right to his cheekbone. You saw his head jerk to the side. A tiny spray of sweat flew off his temple, and blood bloomed along the edge of his cheekbone.

Your breath caught in your throat.

But Noah didn’t stumble.

He pressed forward, reading his opponent’s patterns now, finding the space between jabs. His fists landed, one to the ribs, another to the side of the guy's face. The blond staggered, tried to swing wildly, but Noah ducked low, stepped into his blind spot, and landed a punch to the gut that echoed through the room.

More hits came, the opponent's nose started bleeding a bit. Noah hit his jaw a couple of times. Then an uppercut, hard enough that the other boy lost balance. He stumbled sideways. People shouted, some for Noah, some not.

The blond lunged out of desperation. Noah caught the motion, sidestepped, and swept a leg, sending the boy down to his knees. He could’ve ended it right there, one final hit to the face and the boy would have gone out cold.

But Noah didn’t.

Instead, he stepped forward, caught the boy by the shoulders, and dragged him flat to the ground. He didn’t punch. He didn’t strike. He mounted, held the opponent down, his weight strategic and firm.

You felt a weird feeling in your heart.

He wasn’t brutal. He didn’t want to hurt him more, not like the man that kept hitting him when Noah was already on the ground, bleeding and basically passed out.

The guy tried to get up, to hit Noah, but it was all in vain.

A moment later, a voice rang out, “Winner by ground pin, Sebastian!”

People yelled, others started to give the money they bet to others. But all you saw was Noah, still straddling his opponent, arms hanging heavy as he lifted his head and scanned the crowd.

He was bleeding.

He was breathless.

And he was so fucking beautiful.

“Sebastian just made me win eighty bucks. Not bad, huh?” Kole said beside you, dragging your attention back to where you were, beside him, not where your mind kept slipping.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Not bad.”

Your eyes drifted back to the ring.

Noah was still inside, though he had shifted off his opponent, now sitting against the ropes, his chest rising and falling in slow, heavy breaths. The other boy was still flat on his back, his chest rising erratically, his face streaked with blood, but it was nothing compared to how Noah had looked that night, a month ago, when you’d found him outside, barely able to stand.

Two men entered the ring, ones you recognized instantly. They were the same ones who had dragged Noah out that night.

They moved in now without ceremony, grabbing the blond boy by the arms and pulling him up.

You didn’t need to ask where they were taking him, you already knew: the same alley where they had left Noah that night.

You flinched as they passed close to the edge of the ring. The boy’s feet dragged limply, one shoe half-off, blood dripping down his chin. His eyes were open but dazed.

Kole let out a satisfied chuckle and turned away, already pulling money from someone’s hand, some guy you didn’t know, smiling wide with cash fanned out in his grip.

You looked at Kole, then away.

When you glanced back toward the ring, Noah was gone.

You blinked, scanning quickly left and right, standing up on your toes for a better view through the crowd.

He wasn’t by the ropes.

Not by the benches.

Not near the back wall.

Had he really just left? Without saying anything to you?

Then an idea hit you.

Your eyes darted toward the far side of the room, to the chair where you’d seen him sitting before the match. There, a black hoodie, simple, with a random drawing on it, slung carelessly over the backrest. You didn’t hesitate.

Kole was still talking with Dean, and you didn’t even say anything to him, you just turned and slipped away through the crowd, your hand closing around the hoodie as you passed.

It was still warm in places. You pulled it tight to your chest.

Then you walked towards the back door and pushed it open.

The alley behind the fight club was dark. The stars above were barely visible through the creeping gray clouds, and the rain was beginning to fall and hammer against the concrete around you.

You stepped out, letting the door swing closed behind you.

There, down at the end of the alley, was Noah.

And he wasn’t alone.

The blond guy was sitting on the ground, slumped back against the wall, his legs half-stretched in front of him, his chest still quickly rising and falling, damp strands of hair sticking to his bloody forehead. And Noah was walking toward him with slow and quiet steps.

The younger guy lifted his head, catching sight of him, and flinched. He tried to jerk upright, a sharp reflex of fear, but his body didn’t cooperate, and he collapsed back down with a wince.

"Fuck", he whispered to himself.

“No, no,” Noah said gently. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”

He crouched in front of him, lowering himself to his level.

“You alright?” he asked. “Anything broken?”

The blond hesitated, blinking at him through the thin drizzle. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

“You sure? Your head okay?”

“It’s pounding,” He admitted after a second, “but I’ll live.”

A beat passed. Then a weak laugh. He rubbed a hand over his face. “You hit hard, man.”

Noah let out a soft huff of breath. The rain had started to soak through his hair, flattening them against his forehead. He pushed them back absently with one hand.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Elijah.”

“Well, Elijah…” Noah straightened a little, rising to his feet and extending a hand. “Can you stand?”

Elijah looked at the hand like it was something strange. Then, slowly, he reached up and took it.

Noah pulled him up with careful steadiness.

Elijah wobbled once on his feet but managed to stay upright. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I think I’m good."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, sure."

“Good,” Noah said, giving his shoulder a little pat.

Elijah gave him a little smile. “Thank you, man.”

Noah glanced toward the sky, squinting as the rain began to fall harder, now cold and persistent. He looked back at Elijah, then tilted his head toward the end of the alley.

“You should go,” he said quietly. “Before you catch a cold too.”

Elijah nodded once, then started to walk away with a quick, last wave.

You hadn’t moved, still frozen near the door with Noah’s hoodie clutched to your chest. The rain had found you now too, cold drops threading through your hair, dampening your clothes.

And then Noah turned, finally seeing you.

You took a slow step forward, then another, the sound of your shoes soft against the wet ground. The hoodie was still clutched to your chest, damp now where the rain had kissed it.

“Hey,” you said gently. “Thought you might want this.”

He looked at it for a second, then reached out and took it from your hands, his fingers brushing yours.

“Thanks.”

You gave a faint smile in return.

“What you just did…” you said, “that was really kind of you, making sure he was okay.”

Noah looked away for a moment, “He was just a kid,” he said after a second. “Like I was. Like a lot of them are.”

He shook his head once. “I don’t want to be the kind of fighter that forgets there’s a real person on the other side.”

You stayed silent for a moment.

“You’re a good man, Noah.”

Your voice was soft, almost lost in the sound of rain hitting the pavement and the distant hum of traffic, but he heard you. You saw it in the way his shoulders tensed just slightly.

He started to shake his head, already gearing up for protest. “You—”

“No.” You cut him off gently, “Before you say ‘you don’t know me’… I don’t care. Because that’s not true. Not anymore.”

You took another step closer, and his eyes met yours.

“I do know you, Noah,” you said. “And every moment I spend with you… I think you are a good person a little more. I don't care about anything else.”

His mouth parted, like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words.

“Don’t,” he said eventually.

You frowned. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t make me feel like I deserve to be with someone like you.”

“But you do.” you said, and the words came without hesitation.

He didn’t answer.

The rain kept falling, more gently now, soft and rhythmic against the concrete and metal.

You moved even closer, your body almost brushing his, and your eyes dropped to the bruising along his cheekbone. Even in the dim alley light, the purplish-black stood out stark against his skin.

You lifted your hand, slowly, so he could stop you if he wanted, and let your fingertips touch his cheek. Just beneath the bruise. Light. Careful.

“Look at this,” you whispered. “It’s almost black.”

He let out a breath that was half a laugh, half something else. “In a week it’ll be gone.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, your thumb brushing ever so gently across the curve of his cheek. “But I still see it now.”

His hand, still wrapped, came up slowly, almost hesitantly, and covered yours, pressing your palm more firmly to his face. His fingers curled slightly, holding your hand like there. His brown, almond shaped, eyes searched yours in the dark, the rain tracing paths through his hair, across his skin.

Your gaze dropped to his lips without meaning to. They were parted slightly, his breath shallow, warm against your skin in the close air between you. He leaned in just a little, and you didn’t move, couldn’t have if you wanted to.

His forehead almost touched yours, the space between you thinning to nothing.

“You’re with someone,” he murmured, the words brushing your lips.

“I know,” you whispered.

He didn’t pull away. His eyes searched yours, like you didn’t make any sense but somehow he still could understand.

“And you’re not happy.”

“I know.”

You felt his breath again, so close, just a hair away from a kiss.

But then, slowly, he pulled back.

Just barely. Just enough.

His warmth slipped away.

Your hand slipped from his cheek, falling to your side. Cold rushed in to replace the heat of his skin against your palm.

Noah took a step back.

“We should go back inside.” he said.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Right.”

He looked at you for a moment longer, like there was still something he wanted to say. But instead, he just nodded toward the door behind you.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll get you something to dry off.”

“Alright.” Was all you could say.

So you followed him.

The hallway he lead you through was narrow and dark, the sound of the crowd still faintly audible from the other side of the walls. Noah pushed open another door, revealing a locker-room-type space, small and a bit cluttered.

The walls were painted a dull, industrial gray, parts of the paint chipped from years of wear. Lockers lined one side, dented and scuffed, names and stickers and scratches covering most of them. A bench ran the length of the room, bolted into the concrete floor, with a couple old folding chairs pushed to the corners.

“This is where we change before the matches if we need to,” Noah said, giving a small shrug as he crossed to one of the lockers and opened it. “Glamorous, I know.”

He turned, holding a towel, large, old, but clean , and before you could take it, he tossed it directly over your head. The thick fabric landed with a soft thud, and you burst out laughing.

“Hey!” you said, your voice muffled under the towel.

You couldn’t see anything, but you heard his quiet laugh, warm and unguarded, and it made your chest squeeze.

“You’re welcome.” he said, still chuckling.

You pulled the towel down so you could glare at him, or try to, but you were still smiling.

“Very mature of you,” you said.

“Extremely,” he replied, and sat down on the bench with his towel in hands, patting the spot beside him. “Come on, sit before you drown in that thing.”

You joined him, your clothes damp, your hair already soaking the towel draped over your shoulders.

You stole a glance at him. He rubbed the towel roughly through his hair, drying it in uneven swipes. Drops of water still clung to the ends, dripping occasionally onto his shoulders.

He let out a low grumble as he grabbed the hem of his tank top, the fabric soaked and clinging to him like a second skin. “This thing’s glued to me,” he muttered, half to himself.

You watched as he peeled it off with a grunt of effort, tossing it in a heap near the locker. Now shirtless, he stood for a second, drying his arms and chest with the towel, then sat back down.

And you looked.

You couldn’t not look.

His torso was a map of ink, you could see roses, a sketon, a lantern, the word "desolate". You wondered if some of the colors you saw were part of the tattoos or bruises.

You knew you should look away. You told yourself to. But you didn’t.

Because a part of you was still stuck on the way his face had moved closer to yours earlier. On the way you were about to kiss.

And now you were in this room. Just the two of you. Both soaked. And he was sitting beside you, shirtless, dripping, beautiful.

“You kinda look like one of those long-haired dogs when they take a bath,” you said instead, chuckling, because sometimes saying something so stupid helped push your thoughts away.

He let out a laugh. “Wow. Okay.”

“I mean it in a good way.”

“Uh-huh. You should’ve seen me when I had long hair.”

You sat up. “You had long hair?”

“Yep.”

“Like… shoulder-length?”

“Try mid-back. Maybe even longer.”

Your jaw dropped. “No way. You’re lying. I need to see this. Do you have pictures?”

“Pfft. No. I haven’t even had a working phone in over a year.”

You groaned. “So the only way I’ll ever see it is if you grow it back.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“They were always in my face. I cut them off with a pair of scissors I found in a supermarket. Kitchen aisle.”

You laughed. “Are you serious?”

“I swear. It was the most satisfying haircut I’ve ever had.”

“Do you still have the scissors?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“I’m gonna steal them.”

“Alright. Note to self...keep my utensils locked. You already broke into my building once, now you’re coming for my knives?”

“Nothing is safe from me.”

He smiled, looking down at his hands. The wraps were still there, soaked and clinging to his knuckles. He tugged at one with his teeth, but the knot resisted. You reached over.

“Let me.”

He hesitated for half a second. Then he let go and let you take his hand.

The bandages were damp and clinging, and your fingers brushed warm against his skin as you started to unwind them. Neither of you said anything for a moment.

“You ever did braids?” you asked then.

He groaned. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope. I know you did.” You said as you kept unwinding the damp wrap, careful not to tug too hard where the skin looked red underneath.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” he muttered, half-laughing.

You smiled, eyes on his hand. “You totally did pigtails at least once.”

He just sighed.

Then he looked down at your hands again.

“You’re good at this,” he said.

You glanced up. “Unwrapping hands?”

“Yeah but, I mean” he nodded toward his hands. “You're good at being gentle.”

Your thumbs lightly brushed the back of his knuckles.

“Only with some people,” you said.

You’d found this weird rhythm with Noah, some uneven mix of insults and sarcastic remarks, quiet moments that felt too vulnerable, and small touches that said more than most words ever could.

And you liked it.

So you stayed there a little longer.

While somewhere else in the same building, Kole was laughing with his friends, a bottle in one hand and a pretty girl with dark curls perched on his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist as he told her yes, of course they’d see each other again, his girlfriend would never find out.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog @pandora-08 @geminigirlfromfinland @bloody-spades @rumoured-whispers @astronoids

Fresh bruises tags: @1toreyouapart @respectfulrebel @dragoncopper @overmydeadbodysblog @fear-its-beauty @xslavicprincess @concreteangel92 @super-btstrash-posts @pipidoll @pipidoll @bluehairpunklol @tktstomydwnfall @jesuisunchaton @brutallysoftmuse @acatatonicpeace @spookieolson @dontwantthemoney

[yourch1ld]

Stupid Dare (Part 1)

additional tags: sfw, phiilip graves × male!reader, college!au, call of duty

A/N: so, hello, I'm new here and here's my stupid fanfic (?), this is mid, but I swear I'll try make next chapter better and cooler, thank you in advance for your time! <3 (and yes, English is not my first language, so sorry if there're mistakes).

Part 2

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Finally, the moment came when you moved away from your toxic parents to another place — a college you barely scored enough points to get into with a scholarship. You thought things couldn’t get worse, that a new life was ahead and everything would be great.

WRONG.

It was the end of August, and you arrived at your college dorm in Texas. There are no words to describe how nervous you were, but a kind lady helped you find your room and not get lost in the chaos of students just like you.

Your former friend always said that no matter what, you’d be able to make new acquaintances and friends. But that also didn’t go the way you hoped. You became a loner, and the only looks you got were judgmental — or curious… curious about how weird you were.

The only thing you were lucky with was work. Sure, working at the local McDonald's wasn’t fancy, but you got paid well enough to not starve.

Things couldn’t possibly get worse… right?

They could.

There was someone called Phillip Graves. He was on the football team — not the most popular one there, but still got attention from girls. Though nothing more than flirting ever happened between him and them.

It was Friday evening of the first week of classes, and all the football guys were hanging out in one of the rooms, playing “Truth or Dare.”

As usual, they spun the bottle, and at some point, it pointed to Graves. A mischievous grin appeared on his face and he simply said, “Dare.”

"Then we dare you to start a relationship with that weirdo..."— one of the guys said.

"Yeah, remember that LGBT pin on his bag? So pathetic..." — another one added.

"If you want, we could even pay you a little extra to fuck him and record it, ‘cause this is too funny to just do it for a game..."— the team captain said while looking at Phillip.

The grin stayed on the boy’s face.

It was pathetic that he agreed — but that was drunk Graves…

The next morning, Phillip began his little hunt.

He tracked you down and slithered like a desert snake toward a mouse — right when you were alone in the open area behind the school, sitting in the grass.

"Hey, cutie, is it hot out here, or is it just ‘cause a thing like you’s around?"— a devilish smile crept across his face as he came closer, leaning over you.

You didn’t answer, just blushed and looked up. Clearly, no one had ever flirted with your virgin ass back in your hometown.

"Don’t be nervous, babe, it’s just me — Phillip. You can call me Phil if that helps you relax."— he suddenly sat down next to you and rested his head on your shoulder like he had known you forever.

It looked like a damn romcom (sorry), but you couldn’t do anything about it.

That kept happening for several days. He’d come sit by you, say a few words…

Honestly, it made Phillip feel relaxed, and your quietness seemed kind of cute.

One day, you finally started talking to Phillip, and oh God — you liked his temperament, his voice, the way he moved his hands…

It was probably the first time you fell for someone — not some game character, but a real guy.

But of course, in Graves’s head, there was already a plan.

One that was in motion.

And you — you were the target, the prize, the toy in his hands. Like 3-in-1 instant coffee.

[cosmogyros]

.

[helpimstuckinafandom]

JUSTICE FOR DAVINA CLAIRE I'M SO FUCKING SERIOUS FUCK OFF OH MY FUCKING GOD

[missdynamighttt]

hehehe sooo.. pro hero, husband! katsuki not being able to spend time with you took a toll on his agency, so someone said... you two needed to bone.

it had been weeks since katsuki had a proper night at home. pro hero work never let up but lately, it felt like it was eating him—late nights at the agency, barely any sleep, reports, patrols, meetings.

you understood. it was his job, his responsibility, but his stress showed in the way he snapped at people more often, his fuse shorter than usual.

and today? he was especially pissed.

the whole office refused to confront dynamight about it, until some dumbass sidekick, probably sick of his rage-fueled outbursts, muttered under his breath, “tch. man just needs to go home and bone his wife.”

the room went silent.

dead silent.

katsuki stopped mid-step, shoulders going rigid. his head turned slowly toward him, eyes burning like he was about to set the entire building on fire.

"the fuck did you just say?"

the sidekick, to his credit, had the audacity to look innocent. "i mean, you’re obviously tense, and i'm sure she’s—"

he lunged at him. it took three other sidekicks to hold him back as he damn near flipped his desk over.

“YOU'RE FUCKIN' DEAD! BONE?!” katsuki roared, struggling against his coworkers like a wild animal. "say that shit again, i dare you! you think i’m pissed ‘cause i ain’t fucking my wife enough?!”

the whole agency floor collectively held its breath.

the poor sidekick scrambled for an excuse. “n-no! i-i just meant—uh, stress relief! yeah! y’know, intimacy is good for—”

katsuki grabbed a random clipboard and hurled it across him. he missed by a centimeter. “you think i don’t wanna fuckin' go home to her?! huh?!”

“sir—”

“i wanna go home so bad! i wanna see her, i wanna kiss her, i wanna lay on her tits and sleep for the whole fuckin’ day,” he ranted, voice cracking from pure frustration. “BUT NOOO! i’m stuck here writing reports and dealing with dumbasses like you!”

the office was dead silent.

it took a solid ten minutes for him to cool down, grumbling and seething as he rubbed his temples.

but his mind did wander.

to you. to the way he missed your voice. to how fucking long it had been since he held you properly.

to the way he always found you asleep by the time he got home, curled up on his side of the bed, waiting for him.

… fuck. maybe the sidekick did have a point.

katsuki inhaled sharply. then, with wild determination, he grabbed his his stuff, and stormed toward the exit. the agency could handle itself for the night. he had better things to do.

“fuck this. i'm goin' home to my wife."

meanwhile, you had barely settled on the couch, ready to enjoy a quiet evening alone, when the front door slammed open. you jolted, turning toward the entrance just in time to see katsuki storming in—looking like a man on a mission.

“katsu—” you barely got his name out before his mouth crashed onto yours, hot and urgent, like he’d been starving for this. you gripped his shirt as he pulled you impossibly close, practically lifting you off the floor.

you gasped against his lips as his hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head as he deepened the kiss, pressing his body against yours.

strong hands cupped your face, rough but desperate. his lips were everywhere—your cheeks, your nose, your jaw, the corner of your lips—like he was making up for lost time.

and when he finally let you breathe, his forehead pressed against yours, panting slightly, his hands still gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear.

you were breathless, blinking up at him in shock. “what the hell?”

katsuki exhaled sharply, his forehead resting against yours. “i missed you.”

your brows furrowed. “you left for work this morning.”

“exactly,” his lips brushed against yours again, softer this time. “should’ve come home sooner.”

it was then you realized—he was home way earlier than usual. normally, he'd get caught up in work, buried in reports or dealing with patrols, but tonight…

“wait, why are you home so early?” you asked, still dazed.

katsuki huffed. his fingers slid down to your waist, gripping you tightly. “tch. dumbass sidekick at work said i just needed to fuck my wife to fix my attitude.”

your jaw dropped. “excuse me?”

his lips brushed yours again, softer this time. “so i left early to prove ‘em right.”

your face burned. “katsuki!”

but he was already leaning in again, smirking against your lips. “better get comfortable, sweets. i’m makin’ up for lost time.”

and when katsuki stepped into the office that morning, something was… off.

for the first time in weeks, he didn’t stomp in with a permanent scowl, barking at everyone the second he crossed the threshold. his usual sharp glare was dulled, his shoulders weren’t tense as tense.

instead, katsuki looked, dare they say it—relaxed. his jaw wasn’t clenched, his brows weren’t furrowed, and the usual aggressive boom of his steps was noticeably tamer.

hell, the man even had a post-nut glow so obvious. skin clear, posture loose, and zero unnecessary shouting.

no explosions. no immediate death threats. no one getting yelled at for breathing too loud.

everyone noticed.

by the time he made it to his desk, his coworkers were already exchanging looks, whispering amongst themselves like they’d just seen a miracle.

"uh…" one of his sidekicks was the first to cautiously approach. “sir. you good?”

katsuki just grunted, rolling his shoulders before cracking his neck. “feelin’ great, actually.”

and that’s when it clicked. a murmur spread through the office as realization slammed into them.

“you boned last night,” he stated, like it was the discovery of the century.

katsuki just smirked, grabbing some files off his desk. “what’s it to ya?”

the room erupted.

“holy shit, i forgot he could be normal—”

“i haven’t known peace in months.”

“oh my god, mrs bakugo katsuki, if you can hear this—thank you for your service!”

someone started clapping.

then, the entire office cheered.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ���꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ i think y'all know where this is inspired from but js in case, its from a sitcom named brooklyn 99 where this girl tells her boss he needs to bone his husband lmao😭 hope yall enjoyed!!

[dolcekissy]

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes mentions of sex, fingering, oral, and yeah.

─────────────────────────

rafe being obsessed with his best friend would definitely consist of him basically fighting demons the entire time he's with you. poor baby just wants to fuck you sooo bad :(

sucking on a lollipop? his dick is hard the moment you started pulling the wrapper off the lollipop. sitting in his bed with him while scrolling on instagram? his dick is hard the moment you sat on his bed.

definitely fantasizes about the time you finally do let him hit. he's not gonna be a weirdo and beg ─ have you seen him? he's not one to beg for pussy, he'll make mfs work for his dick imo.

rafe would definitely want you to go everywhere with him ─ to the point if someone sees rafe out somewhere ─ you're definitely somewhere trailing behind him.

golfing with top? you're there. running errands? you're there. at a party? you're there. you're always there with him.

"do i really need to go get gas with you?" rafe nods his head, grabbing your arm and his keys as he shoves you into the passenger side and shuts the door. "it takes two seconds to pump your gas and go back home... what am i going fo─"

"shut up."

rafe would definitely be up your ass too ─ he's with you 24/7 too. you don't mind it but sometimes he does a little too much, like when he follows you to the bathroom when you have to pee or when he'll check your location and see your at the store ─ he'll just pop up out of nowhere.

"fuck! you scared me! how did you know i was here?" your eyes are wide ─ your hand resting over your chest to calm yourself as he looks at everything in your cart.

or when you're taking a shower, poor boy just can't leave you alone.

"rafe. i'm taking a fucking shower, get out!" you yell as he patiently sits on the toilet seat ─ your towel and clothes sitting in his lap as his foot taps against the floor, completely ignoring what you were saying as he starts talking about something random.

he lowkey just wants to take a peek at your naked body too.

wait whaaat, who said that?

rafe cant sleep without you ─ so if you're out late, your parents know your sleeping at rafes.

half the time he's trying to calm himself down because he's hard as fuck seeing you in a tank top and pink, satin shorts. he's mentally fanning himself with his hands as you back your body up into his ─ praying you don't feel his hard on.

turning the other way immediately, his back facing yours the second your ass presses up against him. "hmm, m'just gonna face this way ─" he says it so awkwardly too, leaving you confused but also you couldn't give a fuck less.

rafe would be over the moon the second you let him hit. i wanna say he'd cum so fast like a teenage boy but i feel like he would also wanna savor the moment.

he'd take it so serious, finger fucking you, eating you out, kissing and licking your tits ─ literally everything. then he'd fuck you sooo good ─ just so you know this is what you've been missing out on this whole time.

─────────────────────────

[elliewithcellie]

Girl, Interrupted

summary: Eddie crashes by your home when you least expected, but everything happens for a reason, right?

wc: 1.8k

cw: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), basically no plot, friends to fwb?, oral (f receiving), Eddie is a tease, fairly bold reader lol, fingering, talk of p in v sex, hair pulling, orgasms idk let me know what else

a/n: my bestie bought me slutty pajamas for my birthday, and since I'm a hypothetical whore, this has been on my mind nonstop. Finally took a break from my spn series to write this down. This is the filthiest thing I've written to date but definitely short and sweet

Eddie’s jaw fell slack as the door opened before him. He knew he shouldn’t have shown up to your place uninvited. Sure, you were his best friend, and of course, you had said he could come over whenever, but that never truly meant unannounced. He was already kicking himself for showing up as late as he did when you opened the door.

Your oh so short pajama shorts were the first thing that caught his eye, how your thighs spilled out beneath them, the cotton begging for relief. His eyes trailed higher to your tank top one size too small. The hem rested just above your midriff, the outline of your hips more prominent than he had ever seen. Your face was flush, pinks and reds lining your cheeks. He fought the urge to pinch himself, scared that he was dreaming, scared that he’d wake up to the absence of you and very real feelings emerging.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest. “I thought you had a date.”

Date, what date? Eddie’s mind was going numb. His brain was flatlining at the mere sight of you, more exposed to him than he’d ever seen you. Fight or flight kicked in, debating on whether to say something or just turn around and leave. He was almost sure he was not supposed to see you in this state.

“I—uhh—it didn’t go well, so I cut it short. But I know you love the place, so I figured I’d bring over the leftovers.”

“Oh, sweet. Thank you.”

Eddie hesitated, scared to ask, but his interest piqued. “Is someone—you’re alone right now, right?”

Your eyebrows pinched together. You exhaled a dry laugh. “Please, I’m always alone. Come in. Tell me about your date.”

You ushered Eddie inside and settled into your couch. You pulled a blanket over you, and Eddie released a sigh. He couldn’t believe the hold you suddenly had on him. It was like he was in high school again, ready to combust at the sight of a shoulder. At least with your legs covered, he was less inclined to think about spreading them.

“Was it really that bad?” you asked, drawing Eddie from his thoughts.

“She was just so boring,” Eddie complained. “Like, there’s nothing wrong with her, but it was like we were from different planets! She didn’t know Metallica! How am I supposed to bond with someone when there’s nothing to relate to?”

“Did you think of showing her?”

“Showing her what?”

“Metallica!” you laughed. “Wouldn’t that be kind of romantic, you know, to introduce that to her? Maybe tell her you’re in a band? It’d be like showing her a whole new world. And maybe you’d get a groupie out of it.”

Eddie swatted at the air. “It’s not worth it. We were both bored. And it was clear she wasn’t looking to rock with a guitarist.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“You didn’t meet her. She’s pristine, a Chrissy Cunningham type. Meant to be with a lawyer or some shit.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie, your blanket sliding down your thighs. “Those are the girls who fantasize about guys like you the most. Those girls on the straight and narrow, the ones who seemed destined to be sweet stay-at-home moms or perfect career women, those are the ones who dream of just one night doing something they never thought they could. Something so wild that when they’re taking their kids to soccer practice, or their ‘perfect husband’ is asleep on the recliner while they're doing the dishes, they can think back to that wild night when they fucked a rockstar.”

Eddie’s lip trembled as chills coursed through his body. You leaned back against the couch and shrugged like what you said was nothing. You had to be on something, he decided. Never had you been so frank when the topic of sex came up. Your face was still flushed with color, and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the couch, shifting yourself from one side to the other to no specific rhythm. Heat radiated off of you, though you weren’t known to be the furnace between the two of you. Something struck Eddie as so foreign but so familiar as he took you in.

“Would you fuck a rockstar?” Eddie found himself saying.

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do I seem like one of those straight-and-narrow girls to you?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said, a newfound confidence overtaking him. “You came up with that way too fast to act like you don’t think of it, too. So, would you fuck a rockstar?”

You bit your lip and shifted in your seat. You huffed into the couch. “Wouldn’t anyone?”

“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Eddie asked, egging you on. “You’ve been squirming since I got here, sweetheart. Is something on your mind?”

Your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Tonight is not the night to ask me that.”

“Why is that?” Eddie chuckled. “Were you in the middle of something? Was something left unfinished when I so rudely interrupted? And now all you can think about is the ache between your legs?”

You shuddered at his words. “Eddie,” you said, your voice shaking.

“I could help you.” Eddie leaned closer, his words almost a whisper. “Because I may not be a rockstar, but I’m sure I could give you the night of your life.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t tease me. It’s not funny.”

“No one’s laughing.” Eddie pulled the blanket back, his hands resting on your thighs. Your legs slightly opened on instinct. “What kind of friend would I be, huh? If I didn’t at least offer?”

Eddie didn’t know where this bravado came from, but he didn’t care. All he knew was the longer you looked at him like that, the harder he got.

You grabbed him by his shirt and forced his lips on yours. Nothing soft or sweet came from your lips. You were needy and desperate, clinging to him like he was the air in your lungs.

The urgency shocked Eddie, but he quickly found your rhythm. He smirked against your lips as he pulled his jacket off. His hands snaked from your thighs to your hips to your ass, lifting you onto his lap. You groaned into his mouth as he rolled you against him.

He was sure he was dreaming now. Only there did he ever picture you above him, grinding your hips into his. Only there did he imagine you moaning from his touch. But never were his dreams this vivid, this real, this fucking good.

He pulled you from him and pushed you back onto the couch. You whined at the loss of contact. He’d never seen your eyes so dark, so lustful, so hungry for him.

He slid down to the floor onto his knees and pulled you to the edge of the couch. “You still want my help, sweetheart?”

You nodded emphatically.

“I need to hear you, baby. Say it.”

“Please help me, Eddie. I need you. Please.”

“Atta girl.”

You lifted yourself up as Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. Eddie’s cock jumped at the sight of you. He bit his lip to maintain what little composure he had left.

“Aww, your poor little pussy’s just as needy as you, isn’t she?” He spread your knees apart, the cold metal on his fingers sending chills up your spine. The throbbing between your legs only intensified, a small whimper escaping your lips.

Eddie couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time for teasing, no time to explore. You needed him, and he was going to deliver.

He dove into your aching pussy like a man starved. You jumped at the contact, your hands flying to his hair. His tongue worked overtime, kitten-licking your clit before diving in for more.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, smiling against you. You moaned in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer.

Your sounds turned him on even more, searching for his own release as he rubbed himself against the couch. His mind was in a daze, in utter disbelief that anyone could look so perfect for him with your legs spread and your back arched. Your chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his tongue, and your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Oh, how Eddie wanted to feel your lips around his cock. How you’d sink down on him, your perfect innocent mouth being completely sinful just for him.

He placed a finger at your entrance and pumped in and out, his thumb now circling your clit. Your head fell back. “God, yes, Eddie. Just like that.”

“I need you to do something for me, baby,” Eddie said as he added a second finger.

“Wha—what’s that?” you asked, breathless.

“I need you to tell me what you think of when you get off. Tell me what you were thinking of before I showed up at your door.”

“I—I oh god,” you shouted as Eddie’s lips found your clit. “I—I thought about you on your fucking date.”

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned into your pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine.

“I pictured you fucking her from behind, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her panties to the side as you fucked her in front of the bathroom mirror.”

“Fucking C—Christ,” Eddie stuttered, his hips rutting into the couch faster. “Keep going.”

“Then it was me you were fucking. You grabbed me by the hair, so I could watch what you were doing to me,” you said, your voice shaking with every word. “Eddie, please. I’m close. Please.”

“Come on, baby. You can do it. Tell me what I was doing to you.” He was past dreaming at this point. He was sure this was heaven. Hearing your words had him reeling. He didn’t want to stop, didn't know how to stop. He just knew he needed to see you come.

Your lip trembled. “Your hands were all over me, playing with my tits, your lips on my neck, and—and your big cock pounding into me over and oh-ver and—and Fuck! Eddie, don’t stop! Please, please, please!”

Your orgasm crashed down on you, expletives and Eddie’s name on your lips. Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you like a madman as he lapped up your cum.

“Oh god, oh fuck!” he moaned against you.

You pushed his head off of you and caught your breath. Eddie took a breath, too, leaning back against his heels. You pulled him back up to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on your lips.

“That… was so hot,” Eddie said, releasing a breath.

“Can it be my turn to help you?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Eddie’s cheeks rouged slightly, his eyes trailing to the growing wet spot on his jeans. “I had a turn already,” he said, guilt painting his words. He leaned in toward you, a devilish smirk joining his features. “But I’m not done with you. Not yet.”

[hyunjincanraptoo]

hi baby ;)

prompt 10 pretty please 🥺

(guess who is iiiiiit)

Hi, baby!! I knew it was you just by the 'baby' haha. Lemme tell you, skz made something to me, cause after I saw that damn video of Chan and Lixie taking care of babies, I can't stop thinking about kids and look, I never wanted to be a mother 🤡 (why do they have to be so husband material 😭)

10. Baby, I'm late

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: smut, breeding kink

Alexa, play Scorsese Baby Daddy by SZA

You were quiet for most of the morning.

Chan had noticed. You picked at your breakfast, stared off into space, laughed at the wrong times during your drama. When he reached for your hand on the couch, you laced your fingers through his, but your grip was too loose like your thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

He waited. He always did.

But around lunchtime as he was folding his clothes and humming some song in the bedroom, you finally said it.

“Baby, I’m late”

He looked up.

“Late for what?”

You turned to face with the lips parted like you were unsure if it was a joke or not

“You know what”

He stared. Then the air in the room changed, his blood pressure dropped straight to his feet.

“H-how late?”

“Five days”

“Fuck”, he whispered, then rubbed his face so hard his skin turned red.

“Five days is… well, that’s not like you!”

You nodded. Silent.

He stood there in the middle of the room like the walls were closing in.

“Did you… did you take a test?”

“Not yet. I wanted to tell you first”

“For God's sake, Yn”

The tone of his voice caught you off guard. It sounded like a mixture of disbelief, anger and regret.

“I didn’t do this on purpose, Chan”

“I know, I know. It’s just… this is a lot, okay? We’re not even… fuck, we never talked about this!”

A lump formed in your throat.

“So what? You regret sleeping with me?”

“No! Damn, I didn't say…”

He took a breath, lowering his voice, “I just… I need to think. I need to breathe”

And just like that, he grabbed his duffle bag, mumbled something about the studio, and left.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

Chan was bent over his desk, stuck on a chord progression that didn’t even match the track. His leg bounced uncontrollably. He hadn’t written a word. All he could think about was tiny shoes, baby formula prices, whether you’d even want to see him again after he just left you there alone.

“Hyung”

He looked up to see Felix in the doorway, arms crossed, brows furrowed in concern.

“You okay?”

Chan didn’t answer. Felix walked in, took one look at the empty snack wrappers and his half-finished lyrics

“Did someone die or…?”

Chan looked like he wanted to.

“It’s Yn. She’s late”

Felix processes it in half a second.

“Oh”

He leaned against Chan's desk, “Breathe, hyung. You like her. You love her. It’s not a death sentence*

Chan groans, burying his face in his hands, “I’m not ready to be a dad”

“You weren’t ready to lead a group either, but here we are with the best leader we could ever imagine”

Felix’s voice was warm, real, like he meant every word.

“Also you already act like a dad to seven grown men every day. You think you’d suck at raising one tiny version of someone you love?”

Chan exhaled

“I freaked out, okay?. I didn’t want her to think I didn’t want… us, you know?”

Felix placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Then go tell her that. Before she decides to raise that kid without you and your dramatic ass”

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

Chan returned home around 6 pm.You didn’t even look up when he opened the door. Just kept sitting at the kitchen table, staring at an empty pregnancy test wrapper.

“It was a false alarm”, you said softly.

He stopped in his tracks.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I took the test an hour ago. Not pregnant. Try not to be too excited”.

You finally looked at him and saw the guilt all over his face.

He stepped forward.

“I’m sorry, I freaked out”

“I know. I was scared too”

He dropped to his knees beside your chair, resting his head on your lap.

“It… it wouldn’t be such a bad idea, though. Raising a little us with you”

Your fingers tangled in his hair.

“You’re lucky I can't resist when you beg for forgiveness”

He looked up at you, eyes softer and sure.

“Do you…. maybe want to try? For real?”

“You mean… have a baby?”

“Only if it’s with you”

You smiled.

“Do you want to try for real?”

“Let’s try it. Right now”

Your heart pounded hard against your ribcage

“Chan…”

He leaned in close, voice tender like velvet but his eyes locked on yours with fire.

“Let me put a baby in you”

That heat in your chest dropped straight between your thighs.

You didn’t answer. Just stood and took his hand, leading him to the bedroom quietly. The moment the door closed, his lips were on you, hungry as ever.

Chan kissed you like he meant every word. Like the apology was in his tongue. Like the promise was in his hands, smoothing under your shirt and down your spine.

The backs of your knees hit the mattress, and he followed you down immediately, hungry hands roaming your body. His lips dragged a line of heat down your stomach as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, sliding it down your legs slowly, savoring the way you shivered beneath him.

When he pushed inside, it wasn’t rough— it was sure and deep. Like he wanted to carve himself into you.

He pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, the other gripping your hip to keep you steady as he moved inside you, unrelenting.

“You feel so fucking perfect", he panted, voice shaking against your ear, “like you were made to carry my baby"

You gasped his name, back arching off the bed, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull him even deeper.

The words wrecked you more than they should’ve, but hearing them in a rasp tone, charged with love and need, sent heat straight between your legs.

“You want that?”, he whispered, teeth grazing your jaw, “Want to feel me dripping out after? Laying here, stuffed full of me?”

You whimpered, nodding frantically, every muscle in your body tightening around him.

“Say it, baby. Need to hear you say it", he urged, voice broken.

“I want it", you cried out, clinging to him, “Chan, please... give it to me…”

He groaned like he was falling apart, rhythm faltering as he started driving into you harder, deeper, chasing the edge for both of you.

“I’m close", he gasped into your mouth, forehead pressed to yours, “Gonna fill you up, babe. Every last drop"

His hand tightened in yours, anchoring you to him as you shattered around him, muscles spasming so hard it ripped a broken moan from his chest.

He followed with a shuddering cry, burying himself as deep as he could, spilling inside you with a heat that made your whole body tremble.

He stayed there, panting, forehead still pressed against yours like he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Later, he curled around you, chest pressed to your back, arms locking protectively around your waist with his softening cock still buried inside you.

"False alarm or not", he whispered against the shell of your ear, voice rough but still affectionate, "I think I wanna practice every night until it’s not"

His hand slid down, resting over your lower belly, fingers splaying wide like he was already protecting something precious.

And you knew, without a doubt, that he meant it

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Taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa, @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin

[pedroscurls]

stranded (one-shot)

summary: your car breaks down on the side of the road and a stranger decides to help you out... and you have no choice but to accept his help.

pairing: no outbreak/dark!joel miller x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), DUBCON - please read at own risk / heed warnings!, stockholm syndrome, unprotected p in v, rough sex, manhandling, oral sex (m receiving), orgasm denial, begging, creampie, joel ties you up, spanking, light choking, fingering, age gap (reader is in 30s, joel is in 50s), no use of y/n. word count: 5.1k a/n: and here's yet another story where i'm stepping out of my comfort zone. i've always wanted to write dark!joel, but felt like i couldn't do it justice... but then ali's (@pedgito) hosting a writing challenge (spring fever) and i figured... why not? i chose backwoods horror #1 STRANDED/SIDE OF THE ROAD. please heed the warnings, y'all. this is gonna be very dark and filthy, so if you're not into that sort of thing, that's ok!

You had no idea what you were thinking—taking a solo cross country road trip after quitting your job. Maybe you thought that you’d find yourself, find some kind of purpose that was lacking in your life, but instead, you’re stranded on the side of the road. Gas empty, no cell service, and phone already on its last battery. 

This is where you’re going to die—you’re sure of it. It’s how all horror movies start and despite the sun still high in the sky, you’re increasingly getting worried about what could happen when night falls. You scream at the top of your lungs, the sound echoing through the vast empty void. 

God, no one would hear you scream for help if you were in real danger and that thought simply frightens you. Your friends had all but praised you for this trip—this journey to self-discovery and reflection. Your parents, on the other hand, had already been concerned when you said you would be alone on this trip. A woman, traveling the world by herself? Well, that’s just asking for trouble, they said. 

And now you understand their concern. You understand their fear about you traveling all alone because of where you are now—in the middle of fucking nowhere. You should have refilled your gas when you had the chance, should have charged your phone while you were driving. Should have, should have, should have. 

10%—your phone reads. You try to send a text to your parents, to send them your location, but every attempted text just comes back with the message in red text and an exclamation point next to it: NOT DELIVERED! You raise your phone in the sky, hoping that maybe you’ll get one bar of service, but no luck. 

The trip had been successful, up until this point. You were in Texas, that you were sure of. But where in Texas? You had no fucking clue. 

You lean against the side of your car—the sun glaring down at you and you can feel a thin sheet of sweat on the side of your neck. Why did you think this was even a good idea? Traveling cross country without a plan—how fucking naive. 

Your battery drains fast and your phone finally shuts off. You let out a quiet sigh of frustration and open the passenger door of your car to toss your useless phone inside. Just as you’re about to climb in, you hear a faint noise of a car engine. Suddenly, you feel hopeful—maybe you won’t die here after all.

The sudden excitement that you feel overpowers the possibility that what you’re doing is absolutely dangerous. You’re waving your arms in the air, trying to track down the person in the car who’s making their way in your direction. It’s possible that this person whose truck is slowing down as it nears you could very well be a serial killer, but what choice did you have? 

The truck pulls up behind your car and quickly, you run over to your savior. Your hero. 

“Hi. My car’s dead, my phone’s dead, and I just need a lift to the next gas station... Or any place where I can use a phone to give someone a call,” you blurt out, breathing heavily. 

He turns his head slightly in your direction—eyes gazing at your face, then down to your shoulders and the rest of your body that he can see from the driver’s side. You’re leaning against the opened window of the passenger side of the truck. You don’t belong here, he knows that for sure. 

“Next gas station is in the next town over,” he finally answers. 

“Could you give me a lift there? I can pay you. Let me just grab my things and—”

“No need,” he interrupts, voice low. “I’m headin’ in that direction anyway. Get in.”

You grin and Joel’s jaw ticks briefly. God, you’re beautiful and it’s truly been a long time since he’s been with—

“Promise you won’t kill me?” you laugh, climbing into his truck and interrupting his thoughts. 

Joel finally takes in the rest of your frame and can immediately feel his length stirring beneath his dark jeans. His hands grip the steering wheel to ease some pressure, but you’re still talking and you’re laughing and it shoots straight to the center of his pants. It must be his lucky day. 

“If I were to kill you, I don’t think I’d be confessing that, darlin’,” he answers—the corners of his lips lift slightly. Oh, you had no idea what you just got into by climbing into his truck. 

“Right,” you reply. “That’s a good point.” You look at him—taking note of his damp hair that’s slicked away from his face, his broad frame, salt and pepper patchy beard. You realize that he must be in his fifties, but you can’t help but notice how handsome he is. That’s a good sign, you think. He won’t hurt you. He’s going to drop you off in the next town and hopefully, you’ll be able to head back home in the morning. 

“I’m guessing you live around here?” you ask, feeling the truck move back onto the main street. You glance out the window, watching your car become smaller and smaller as Joel drives further away from it. 

“Yeah,” he answers. “Guessin’ you ain’t from around here.”

“That obvious?” 

He just nods. Joel needs to focus on the road ahead of him. He has to make it seem like he’s not a threat, like he’s not just about to take you directly to his home. His secluded home. 

You introduce yourself formally, telling him your name and turning your body to face him. “What’s your name?”

“Joel.”

“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?” you smile in his direction and Joel glances at you from the corner of his eyes. 

“Not much to say.”

“Well, how long is the drive to the next town? If you don’t have music, I’m gonna end up talking. I don’t usually like it when it’s too quiet on a drive and—”

“It’s about fifteen minutes,” he interrupts. “Radio is busted.” 

“So talking it is then.”

“No use in talkin’ if we ain’t gonna be seein’ each other after this.” 

“I guess you’re right,” you answer with a sigh. You try to remain quiet, fidgeting with your hands as you stare out the window. Every few seconds or so, you glance over at him and you can’t fully read his expression. He’s so stoic that there’s a part of you that feels like an inconvenience to him. Maybe he should have just kept on driving. 

“How long were you stranded for?” Joel asks. 

“About a couple of hours. Couldn’t get reception to call someone.”

“Yeah, phones don’t work out here.” Joel shrugs. “You eat anythin’ yet?” 

You shake your head. “Skipped breakfast this morning to get on the road.”

“My place is just a couple of minutes away,” Joel says. “I need to grab a few things. Got some food and water for you,” he offers. 

You smile and reach out to rest a hand on his forearm. It’s an innocent gesture, but it makes Joel shift in the driver’s seat. Your touch is so soft, so gentle and he flexes his arm underneath your fingertips. “You’re sweet, Joel. That sounds great. I am starving.” 

Joel bites back a smirk. He’s got you right where he wants you. 

Your hand drops from his arm and there’s a subtle frown that settles on his lips before he pulls off the main road. Within minutes, Joel pulls up to his secluded home. When he shuts off the car, he looks over at you and you’re still smiling. 

“This is a cute place, Joel,” you tell him, climbing out of the truck. 

He follows you and rounds the truck until he’s standing behind you. His fingers itch to reach out to touch you—especially when you raise your arms over your head to stretch, the ends of your shirt lifting just above the waistband of your denim shorts. He wants to touch every inch of you and he lets out a quiet grunt when you accidentally fall back against him. 

“Sorry,” you say, looking over at him from over your shoulder. 

“S’fine,” Joel mumbles and then walks past you to walk towards his front door. He unlocks it and opens it for you, watching you step across the threshold as you look around with curiosity. 

“It’s very dark in here,” you point out, walking further into his home. You see a light switch on the wall and flip it on, illuminating his entire home. Surprisingly, Joel’s large hand encompasses your wrist in a tight grip. You let out a quiet gasp and turn around to look up at him—eyes wide, lips slightly parted. 

“You always like to make yourself comfortable in a stranger’s home?” he asks with a threatening tone. 

“S–sorry,” you whisper, trying to pull your wrist away from his grip but he doesn’t budge. His grip just tightens. “Joel, you’re hurting me.”

“Pretty little thing,” he mumbles, stepping closer to you. “It’s like you were waitin’ f’me out there,” Joel says quietly. 

“Joel—”

“Shh.” Joel brings a finger up to your lips and his eyes drift down, moving his thumb to brush against you. “Shh, baby.” 

“I think I want to leave now,” you answer. “I think I just want to head into town and—”

“Oh darlin’,” he grins. “Ain’t no town for at least another fifty or some miles.” 

“B–But you said—”

“Guilty,” Joel interrupts, turning you so that your back presses against the wall. He cages you in, hand still gripping your wrist as the other comes up to rest gently over your throat. “M’sorry I lied to ya.” 

Your eyes widen in horror, the realization finally hitting you like a freight train. You had spent most of the drive admiring him—his broad frame, his quiet and mysterious nature, his large hands that gripped the steering wheel, his husky southern accent—that you ignored the feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

This was a bad idea. 

Getting into his truck was a bad fucking idea. 

“I just want to go home,” you whisper. “Please just let me go home and—”

“Shh,” he repeats. Joel steps closer to you, his nose brushing against your own. “Gonna keep you here all to myself. Been a while since I had a little plaything like yourself.” 

You shake your head. “Please, I’ll give you all the money I have back in my car.”

“Don’t want your money. Want you.” 

“Joel—”

“Love the way my name comes out of your mouth, darlin’. Say it again.”

You shake your head, closing your mouth shut. You know you’re in danger, but you’re not sure why you feel a familiar wetness pool between your legs. Your body is responding to him—to this stranger… this handsome fucking stranger who can easily strangle you if he wanted to. 

“Say. It. Again,” he repeats.

“Joel,” you whisper. 

“Good girl,” Joel grins proudly. He drops his hand from your throat and releases his grip around your wrist. He stares into your eyes, searching for any hesitation or any inclination that you’re going to run and leave. He sees your eyes flicker to the front door and he narrows his eyes—his large hand once more coming up to splay against your throat. Joel applies just a bit of pressure and he watches your eyes go wide again. “Wouldn’t think about it, if I were you.” 

You beg with your eyes—apologetic and pleading for him to just let you go. “I’ll be good,” you mumble against his grip. “I promise. I–I’ll be good.”

“We’re gonna have a lot of fun,” Joel nods, releasing his grip around your throat. “And I bet if I were to reach between your legs, I’d feel just how fuckin’ wet you are f’me, won’t I?”

You shake your head in defiance. “N–No…” 

Joel lets out a chuckle. “Mmm, that so?” He tugs on the waistband of your denim shorts and pulls you to him. He’s so rough and there’s an excitement that courses through your veins. He tugs down your shorts and panties down your legs, looking down at your white lacy thong with a grin. He can see a blotch of wetness and brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply as he lets out a contented sigh. “I bet you taste fuckin’ good too,” he whispers. 

You suddenly feel self-conscious and your hands immediately move to try and tug down the end of your shirt to cover your lower half. Joel just shakes his head and grabs your wrists to pin them above your head against the wall. You squirm against his grip and he kicks your legs apart, stepping in front of you to keep them spread open. His free hand comes down and immediately runs the pads of his fingers across the length of your sex—your body betrays you because you let out a quiet whimper as you arch your back against his touch. 

“Wet,” he points out. “You like this, don’t you?” 

You shake your head. 

“Liar,” he chuckles. Joel wastes no time in sliding two of his thick fingers past your folds—your warm, tight, and so fucking wet that a large grin spreads across his lips. 

You squirm against him at the sudden and rough intrusion, eyes gazing up at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust and more than likely sinister thoughts, but you can’t help but notice his grin and the cute fucking dimple that appears on his cheek. You shouldn’t like this, but your body is yearning for more. Yearning for him. 

Joel’s thick fingers plunge into you repeatedly—his other hand gripping your wrists so tight above your head that you’re sure there’s going to be bruises. You shut your eyes tightly, keeping your lips in a thin line and forcing yourself to stay quiet because you know that if you make a sound, it’s only going to fuel him further. 

His eyes stare deeply at you and you’re so wet that Joel’s fingers pump into you with ease. He can see you struggling against his grip and he leans closer, lips near your ear as he whispers huskily. “Lemme hear you, baby.” 

You shake your head in defiance, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. You suck in a breath when his thumb brushes against your clit and a quiet—almost inaudible—moan escapes your lips. 

“Ah, darlin’,” Joel grins, gently nipping at your earlobe. His grip around your wrists loosen just slightly and he’s distracted, yearning to pull more sounds out of you and it gives you just the right moment to push him away. You miss his fingers immediately, a loud squelch echoing the walls when his fingers slip out of you. 

With as much strength as you can muster, you shove him so hard that he stumbles backwards with a grunt. You look around haphazardly, eyes wide, heart beating out of your chest. You’re very well aware that your lower half is bare, but you think maybe you can make a run for it—you just need to grab his keys, run out the door into his truck and drive away. 

You glance over your shoulder and Joel chuckles. He fucking laughs at your poor attempt at running away because he takes three strides in your direction and takes a fistful of your hair. You let out a loud yelp and he’s already quick to bend you over the back of his couch—the edge of it digging into your lower abdomen.

You’re already trying to squirm away, but his grip in your hair tightens and pain rushes through you. You’re about to beg him to stop, to beg him to let you go, but you feel his free hand connect with your backside. The slap reverberates through your entire being and the sound of his hand coming in contact with your ass echoes through his quiet home. 

“You just got here, baby,” he growls—he doesn’t let up, your skin already reddening with each spank. “You can’t leave me yet.”

“I–I–” you mumble and your body reacts automatically, pushing back into him. “Please!” 

“M’gonna have to tie you up, I think,” Joel grins. “Just to make sure you don’t pull that shit again.”

Your ass is beginning to sting and you try to scramble away, but Joel pulls you upright against him. His large hands move to your hips, fingertips digging into you as he uses your body to rub his bulge against you. 

“I think you’re gonna feel real good around me,” he whispers into your hair, hand sliding over your abdomen and down between your legs. “You’re actin’ like you ain’t enjoyin’ this, but you’re so fuckin’ wet f’me.” 

He begins to circle your clit with the pads of his fingers and it causes your back to arch against him, hands darting out to rest on the edge of the couch. A loud moan finally escapes your lips and Joel lets out a low growl at the sound—he wants to hear more of it, craves more of it. 

“From the way you’re squirmin’,” he continues, “Makes me wonder if you’ve been neglected.” 

You shake your head—lying.  

“Oh? Got a boyfriend back home, hm?” 

You shake your head again.

“Poor little thing,” Joel mumbles, head dipping down to the side of your neck as he presses his soft lips against you. It causes a shiver to run through you—his soft lips and his rough beard. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m here now. I’ll take care of ya.”

You’re an absolute mess by the time Joel’s done with you. You’re lying on his mattress, hands bound by rope and attached to the headboard. You’re completely bare for him and he’s brought you to the edge of orgasm too many times to count that you’re practically begging for some release. 

His hands are surprisingly gentle when he settles himself back between your legs and it causes you to flinch. His fingertips brush against your hardened nipples, dark bruises already forming around it from his love bites—he liked to call it. 

“You’re soakin’ my sheets, honey,” he grins. 

“Then let me fucking come!” you retaliate with a huff. Your eyes go wide the minute it leaves your mouth and you’re already trying to scramble away from him, despite being all tied up. 

Joel laughs again. “You’re cute when you’re angry, baby… but let’s not forget who’s in charge here.” 

He finally pulls the ends of his shirt over his head and you lift your own head off the pillow to get a good look at him. There’s no way this fucking man is in his fifties—you shake your head of the thoughts that begin to fill your mind. He has you here held captive and you’re sure that he’s going to kill you once he’s gotten what he needed. 

But you can’t help it. 

Joel’s fucking gorgeous. 

Is this what Stockholm syndrome is? Attracted to your captor? Whatever the fuck it is, you’re squirming impatiently. There’s a dull throb between your legs, an ache, a need for him to give you what you need. 

And he smiles. The same fucking dimple that appeared earlier that day is now in full display because Joel knows he’s got you right where he wants you. 

“Gonna be a good girl f’me? No more fightin’ back?” Joel begins, reaching down to tug his boxers down his strong legs. Once the fabric is gone from his body, your eyes widen once more at the sheer size of him. Girthy. Leaking at the tip. You’re not sure if it’d fit inside of you and Joel notices a flicker of uncertainty flash across your features. “We’ll make it fit, baby. Don’t you worry.”

You whimper quietly in response, feeling him brush his rounded tip against your opening. You try to wiggle your hips down, yearning for more, but he just pulls back and shakes his head. 

“Please,” you plead. You bat your eyes at him, gazing at him under the rim of your eyelashes. It’s a poor attempt at begging, at looking innocent because you look anything but that. 

Joel just lets a small smile line his lips before he pulls away and mounts your upper half. You clear your throat—the size of him this close almost threatening. 

“Don’t be gettin’ shy on me now,” he growls lowly. “Been pleasuring you for a while now, so it’s only fair that you return the favor.” 

“I–I haven’t come yet. Please just let me come and I’ll do anything—”

Joel clicks his tongue and runs the tip of his manhood across your mouth, smirking at the sight of his precome now on your lips. “You ain’t the one in charge here.” He pushes his tip past your lips and lets out a low groan. One hand moves to grip the headboard ahead of him as his other hand keeps a steady grip around the base of his length. “Open wider f’me,” he whispers. 

You have no choice but to obey—parting your lips wider and feeling more of his manhood slide into your mouth. You can feel the corners of your mouth stretch due to his girth. It isn’t long before he pushes further into your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat and you gag almost instantly. Tears sting your eyes and he only gives you a few seconds to breathe before he pushes back into you. 

You squeeze your legs together, trying to alleviate some pressure that has been building and building between your legs and the pit of your stomach. You glance up in his direction only to see Joel with his head tilted back, chest and neck exposed, and his eyes completely shut. A quiet groan escapes his lips as he begins to move his hips forward and backward—you swirl your tongue around him, hollow your cheeks and it causes him to moan loudly. 

And fuck, it’s a beautiful sound to come out of him. 

He’s moaning. He’s deep in his own pleasure. 

And it’s all because of you. 

By the time he pulls out of your mouth, Joel’s eyes snap open to look down at you. Lips swollen, tears streaking down the corner of your eyes. You’re so distracted by your desire to come that you don’t realize what could possibly happen once he’s done with you. 

You’re going to die. 

Joel is going to fucking kill you. 

And this cross country road trip you had originally planned was a stupid fucking idea. 

Joel sees a look of fear flash across your features and it only makes him smile, makes his cock jerk at the sight of you. He moves down your body and settles himself between your legs again. 

“Gonna fill you up now,” Joel nods. “And you’re gonna lie there and take it like a good girl.” 

You nod. 

His hand comes up to grip your chin roughly, staring into your eyes. “Say it.” 

“I–I’ll be good. I’ll take it like a good girl and—”

Without warning, Joel pushes fully into you in one stroke. You feel your body jerk upwards at the sudden intrusion and you’re lucky that you’re so wet because while he slides in so easily, you can’t help but feel the painful stretch to give way to his size. Your hands try to wiggle out of the bondage, but the rope just digs further into your skin—it’s like he expertly tied you in a way that the more you struggle, the tighter it gets. 

Joel’s hand moves from your chin to cup your breast, thumb brushing against your nipple as he remains still for a moment. “Feel so good,” he whispers, head dipping lower to brush his nose against yours. He can hear you panting heavily, lips parted slightly. “Like you were made f’me.” 

Then, Joel pulls out to his tip only to slam himself back into you. He repeats this movement multiple times and your moans—the ones that you’ve tried so desperately to hold back—finally escape your lips and mix in with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours. 

The bed rocks against the wall—his thrusts are so rough and you’re sure that your entire body is going to ache for the next few days. 

That is if you’re still alive by then.  

One hand moves to your hip as the other moves to wrap around your neck. He applies a bit of pressure to cut off your oxygen and you gasp, eyes wide as you stare up at him. 

Begging. 

Pleading. 

Not for him to stop… 

…but for more. 

Joel grins at that and continues his thrusts, the sensation of your walls sliding along his length only urging him closer and closer to release. He can feel the tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to unravel and he pulls out, not yet wanting to be done with you. 

When Joel does pull out of you, he releases his grip around your throat and hears you take one deep breath. You’re breathing heavily and he looks between your legs—so fucking wet, so swollen and he taps your clit gently with the tip of his manhood only to see you squirm. 

You’re sensitive, he thinks to himself with a grin. 

“Joel,” you whisper. At this rate, you don’t care if you die. Having him bring you on the edge of an orgasm only to stop is worse, you’re sure of it. 

“Gonna keep you here forever,” Joel says with a dark gaze. “You’re mine now. You understand?” 

You clear your throat and nod slowly—anything to get him to make you come. “Y–Yes, yours.” 

“Doesn’t sound too convincing.” 

“Fuck, Joel! Please,” you beg. “I don’t care what you do to me, please just let me come…” 

Joel chuckles—dark, sinister. He leans down and lightly pecks your lips before he climbs off the bed to look at you from top to bottom. “Like I said, you ain’t the one in charge here.” 

Your eyes stare at him and you notice the way his manhood stands fully erect, glistening with your arousal. He follows your gaze and smirks, reaching down to tug on it. “This what you want?” 

You nod. “Please.” 

“So if I untie you, you gonna be a good girl and obey?” Joel contemplates, still stroking the base of his length. His hand doesn’t feel as good as being inside of you and he almost loses his resolve. 

But he doesn’t. 

Joel’s patient. 

“Y–Yes, please,” you plead once more. 

“Love hearin’ you beg, darlin’,” he grins. Joel slowly reaches over and begins to untie the rope around your wrists but he makes sure that his attention is focused on you. He needs to make sure that you’re not going to run again. 

Once the rope is finally undone, you roll your wrists and touch the bruises around it. You flinch and then look up at him—eyes still pleading. 

“One wrong move and I’m tyin’ you up again. You hear me?” Joel growls, seeing you move to sit up. You nod in agreement and he tugs on your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed with such force that you let you a quiet yelp. 

Joel flips you onto your abdomen and grabs your hips, lifting you up so that you’re now on all fours on his mattress. He comes up behind you and slides into you with warning—again. 

A loud moan escapes your lips and you fall forwards—cheek resting against his mattress, eyes fully shut tight, and your hands gripping the sheets so tightly that your knuckles turn white. 

“Feel even tighter this way,” Joel points out with a grunt. 

Your toes curl at his rough assault against you. It’s like he’s possessed, so territorial and so animalistic that his thrusts drive you further into the mattress. You wanted this, but you can’t help the pain that shoots through you at his size. Joel’s by far the biggest you’ve ever had and it wasn’t like you had a healthy sex life before this. 

“Fuck!” You scream, now trying to scramble away from him because it’s too much. He’s edged you for too long that you’re sure you can’t even get there—your body is humming and you can feel the familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach. You’re close and Joel knows. 

He laughs and grips your hips, pulling back onto him with such force that you arch your back. Joel grabs your arms and pins them at your lower back as he pulls your body forward and backward against him. He glances down and sees just how wet you are—the hair at his base completely damp from your arousal. 

“You wanted to come… then fuckin’ come,” Joel groans, pulling you up against his chest. He grunts into your ear as he keeps your arms pinned at your lower back. His other hand reaches around and dips lower to begin circling your clit against the pads of his fingertips. 

You moan so loud that it echoes throughout his home. Your head tilts back against his shoulder and he drags his teeth across the side of your neck—both your bodies now covered in a thin sheet of sweat. 

“J–Joel, I–,” a loud sob escapes your lips when you finally reach your orgasm. Your body shakes against his own and his thrusts don’t let up—still hammering into you from behind and using your slickness and tightened walls to bring himself closer to his own release. 

“Fuck,” he groans against you, releasing your arms and pinning you back onto the mattress. His hips sling against your own—Joel is literally fucking you into the mattress and you’re already so fucking sensitive that you try to move away. 

Fuck him. If he wanted to deny you of your orgasm, you can do the same to him. 

But it’s no use. Joel’s so much stronger and his large hands grip your hips so tightly that you feel pain from it. 

“S’cute,” he says in between thrusts. “Thinkin’ you can run away.” Joel grunts lowly, chasing his own orgasm. “Can promise you one thing, baby…” He slams into you once more and releases his warm seed into you—paints your tight and wet walls with his come. He leans forward, pushing further into you as his tip kisses your cervix. “You ain’t ever leavin’ me.” 

He presses soft kisses along your shoulder before he pulls out, watching with a smirk to see his come trickle out of you and down your legs. 

“You’re stranded, darlin’. Ain’t no one comin’ to save you,” Joel grins. “And I ain’t even done with you yet.”

[me-owte]

Perfection

Sol being the perfect boyfriend. Is there anything that could be amiss?

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT MINORS DNI !!! Use of they/them pronouns for reader and no explicit genitalia is mentioned Pre-established relationship, Sol beats up a pervert in front of you

Sol was perfect, the most incredible boyfriend you could ever imagine having.

From spontaneous dates at cafes or the arcade- where all expenses are covered by him before you could even think about offering your own cash. To the daily meals meticulously home cooked to perfection. Hell, the way his lips would worship your skin in bursts of affectionate kisses never made you feel anything less than a god.

"You're too good for me," you whisper under your breath, tangling your fingers through his two toned hair. Sol embraces you, cuddled up on your couch as a movie you've forgotten about plays in the background.

You feel him smile into your collar, briefly pressing his teeth into your skin before pulling back. The look in his eyes, lovesick to an incredible degree, tells you everything you need to know about the way he feels. "No pumpkin, you're the one that's too good for me."

Before you can protest, he's back on your collar. You yelp at the way he moves your shirt down to gain better access to your skin. His piercing is cold as he moves around, biting and nipping on any surface he can find. Your hands ball in his hair, and you bite back a moan at the way his tongue runs over the curve of your neck. Through whispers under his breath, you hear him muttering praises, a common sound whenever you two are alone.

"You're perfect..."

"Someone like me-"

"I'm so lucky to finally have you..."

"I'll never let you go."

In the heat of the moment, his hand slips under your shirt. And you choose to ignore the implications of his words.

He was perfect, and that word isn't one that should be said lightly. Sol looked at you as if you personally hung every star in the sky. As if you were solely responsible for the sun rising every morning.

As if you were the only thing worth living about in this earthly life of his.

You're in the arcade. You're on the side of a crane machine, peering into the glass as Hyugo tries to control it for success.

"Wait, wait, wait! Move it to the left, you're too far right-" You say, pointing to the spot where the targeted horse plush lays. Sol had gone to the bathroom at the time, leaving you and your friend scrambling as you try to win a plushie for him before he could return.

A fist flies into the air, making contact with a guy you didn't even realize was there. Sol, behind you, heaves from the recoil, glaring down harshly.

"Huh-"

"You... fucking pervert." Sol points down, eyes glowing with fury, hands shaking.

The guy on the floor lifts himself up, and only then you realize a cracked phone lays beside him, open to the camera app. "What the fuck are you-"

Sol bends down, grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt. "I saw you trying to take a picture of their behind." The man's only response is a look of horror, realization that he'd been caught.

The bright lights of the arcade and scattered sounds of chatter override any attention that could've been brought to the scene. Sol brings his fist up once more, ready to throttle the man. "Hey, we're in public Sunny." The eerily calm voice of Hyugo slices through the tension, cutting through Sol's anger in a moment of realization.

"I oughta take you outside to deal with your shit-" He bites back, glaring at the trembling man.

"F-fuck this, go have your whore-"

"Don't you dare!" Sol's fist flies straight into the man's nose, pure anger in his gaze. He doesn't stop punching, and you grasp Hyugo's arm in anxiety.

"S-sol stop-" You say, looking around to see if anyone else notices the scene. Hyugo tries to stop him swell, moving forward to try and pry him off. Sol only lashes out, shoving his friend to the side.

"Not yet-"

Despite your pleads, he doesn't listen, punching and beating the man until he finds his punishment fit. When Sol finishes, you're shaking.

He reaches out to you with hands stained with blood that aren't his. When you flinch, his eyes go wide. "I-" He looks to the side, and you can't tell if it's due to shame or nerve. "I couldn't just let the guy go, pumpkin. H-how else do you expect me to react?"

You can't help the way you soften at his words, at the clear realization at what he had done shaking his core. You trust he feels bad, and you step over the unconscious body to reach out to him, hands falling to his shoulders. Hyugo moves behind you, grasping at the body to begin work on manipulating the scene.

You hold him and he all but collapses onto you, cries of shame muffled by your clothing. Blood smears on your back from his hands gripping your shirt.

"I-it's okay," You say, whispering softly into his ear. You put hand in his messy hair, patting it to try and give him some semblance of comfort. With a loud sniff, he pulls away and you expect tears to be running down his face.

The look in his eyes is nothing more than pure adoration and devotion.

He was perfect. From the top of his forehead to the tips of his toes, not a single part about him was flawed.

Not a single part.

His hips slap into yours with a passion you find yourself hard to keep up with. Heaving pants and choked back moans fill your bedroom as you're pushed flushed to the mattress.

Sol's cock fucks into you in all the right places.

Long enough to reach the deepest parts of you. The first time you took him in fully, it felt like ages before he finally bottomed out. Every time you stare at the outline of his bulge you blush knowing just how much of him had been inside you nights prior.

Wide enough to stretch you out deliciously with each collision of your hips. He always had to prep you before, stretching you out with his fingers and sometimes his tongue. Sometimes he'd get you to cum just from the foreplay alone.

Curved in such a way he targets that one spot that makes you curl your toes. As soon as he slipped into you, he wouldn't stop bullying that spot. Every thrust of his hips was more intense than the last, focused on driving you over the edge again and again.

"I- I love you," he moans out, pressing his body weight on top of you. His eyes roam over your pleasure filled face unable to constrain yourself due to just how good he was fucking you.

His hand slips between you, groping any exposed skin he can reach. From the curve of your thighs, to the rolls of your hips, to your nipples that rub against his cotton shirt with every movement.

"I love you-" he says with less shakiness, trying to steady himself despite losing his mind in the way you grip around him.

"My darling, my soul mate, my perfect perfect pumpkin," his rambling words barely make sense to your fucked out mind. He dips his head into your neck, biting down in a way that makes you scream.

Your hands run across his back, grasping at the shirt he's always refused to take off. Through the passion of his thrusts, he pushes your bodies together in an attempt to merge your souls into one.

"Sol- S-sol-!" You cry out his name, pushing his head further into your neck, encouraging the way he marks up your skin with proof of his existence. "I'm close, I'm close-" You chant in between gasps you can't control.

His hand moves to your jaw, gripping it tightly as he continues to lap at your neck. "Come for me darling, prove that you're mine-"

With that, you let go, holding him tighter than ever before as your vision goes white. Sol doesn't let up, continuing to pound his cock into you despite the sticky mess.

"Perfect, so perfect," His hips slow down to give you a brief moment of relief from the stimulation. He breaths in the scent of your mixed sex, going straight to his head as he circles his arms around you. Your brain is too fucked out to hear him, instead focused on leveling your breathing. "You're too good for me pumpkin... Too perfect for someone like me... How could I ever let you go now?"

You were perfect. To him, you could do no wrong. To him, you were all that was right in the world.

And now that he's got you in his grasp, he'd do anything to keep it that way.

THE SOL BRAINROT WENT SO HARD I HAD TO MAKE A NEW BLOG FOR YANDERE CONTENT 😭😭😭 Let me know if I should make more or send in a request eyes eyes eyes

First time writing smut like this... I wanted to show how even getting into a relationship with him, even if everything goes well, there's still that air of obsession and something being wrong.

Might explore the idea more but for now the desire for smut won LOLOL

Banner credit

Play TKATB here!

[tetsumie]

"𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘" 𝐏𝐓 𝟐

read part 1 here!

pairing: kuroo x reader & bokuto x reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: the boys call you clingy but they don’t mean it

a/n: hello ahhh it's been awhile since i've posted but i'm trying to get back into the habit of writing again! someone in my inbox had requested me to add bokuto to this list so i tried my best but i hope you all enjoyed this and feel free to stop by my inbox to leave a comment, tell me your thoughts, or just lmk how it's going hehe :,)

kuroo tetsuro

"i'm home," a mumble echoed out into the empty living room.

at the sound of the door opening, you make your way out of your shared bedroom to greet your overworked boyfriend, kuroo.

"hi baby," you replied with a tired smile on your features.

the door closes and kuroo slides off his slacks, loosens his tie, runs his fingers through his hair, and sighs in exhaustion.

"hey."

"have you eaten dinner yet?" you start to ramble. " i can warm up dinner and we could maybe share a meal together?"

"we haven't spent much time together in a while so you know.. i was just thinking... we could do something small together?"

you continue to ramble about how you spent all evening trying a new recipe you saw on tiktok that really fascinated you.

but kuroo is not having it.

all he wants to do is just go to bed and forget the past couple shitty days he's had at work. today, especially, was stressful considering how nothing had gone his way and the higher ups just wouldn’t stop giving him a hard time.

he kept his frustration, tiredness, anger all bottled up for the past couple days and they were all about to boil out.

on top of that, your constant rambling isn't helping. you keep talking and talking and talking and his mind is beginning to get cloudy and his anger is about to boil over.

his voice rises and he finally speaks, "god y/n.. can you just shut the fuck up and stop being all up in my space? you're so fucking clingy just leave me alone."

oh.

you mouth shuts up mid sentence and you're looking down at your feet, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye after hearing his true feelings.

"sorry, i just wanted to spend some time and talk and relax with you..." your voice goes quiet. "you've been out really late for the past couple days so i was just hoping-"

however, kuroo's outburst isn't over yet. if anything, your little comment voicing your concerns seems to have make him a bit more upset.

"yeah, i've been out late because of how suffocating it is here at home with you. god, it's like you just can't take a fucking hint! just leave me the fuck alone!" he says and your eyes go a bit glassy.

"r-right," you say as you're turning around so he doesn't see the tears forming in your eyes. "sorry, i'll respect your wishes and give you your space."

seeing your hunched figure walking away brought him back to his senses.

what the fuck did i just say to them? oh my god.

"y/n wait i'm sorry-" he begins but is cut off.

"kuroo, i think you've said enough tonight."

the sound of his last name coming out of your mouth leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and he knows he's fucked up immensely. the door to the bedroom closes, indicating that you're clocking out for the night and you can't deal with this conversation any bit longer.

kuroo sits himself on the couch with his head in his hands, shaking his head.

what the hell did i just say to them? it's not even their fault... i just... how the hell do i make it up to them?

kuroo walks to the door and places three subtle knocks on the door, begging for permission to enter. he's greeted with no acknowledgement or response.

he turns the knob and to his surprise it opens. there, he sees you fast alseep in your comforter in a fetal-like position. he goes into the closet, changes into his pajamas, and immediately climbs into bed.

he brings you close to his side of the bed, specifically putting your head on his chest. he begins to stroke your hair and places gentle kisses on your head, mumbling soft "i'm sorry's" and "i love you's."

he's praying to whatever deity out there that this would blow over by tomorrow morning or something.

but kuroo wakes up the next morning to his worst nightmare: you're not in bed with him. he feels his blood run cold and he's running the worst case scenarios in his head.

he rushes out of the bedroom to see that you're nowhere in the apartment. he sees a bright colored post-it note stuck on to the fridge with a note scribbled in your handwriting.

"i'm staying at a friend's house for the next couple of days. i just need time to think for a bit. there's some leftovers from last night in the fridge so make sure you eat those.

love u always, y/n"

kuroo's hands shake as he's holding your post-it note.

of course, they'd leave. i treated them like shit and hurt them so badly of course they want to leave. but even after everything, they still love me… i don’t deserve them.

kuroo begins to spiral and the next couple of days aren't any easy for him.

every attempt at texting or calling you has lead to no response. he goes to sleep without you next to him, holding back tears every time. every morning without fail, he pats the vacancy next to him in hopes that you'll be there but to his demise, every time, you're not. work feels even more lethargic than usual. before, he used to look forward to coming home to you but now you're not even at home so what's the point in even trying. counting down the hours until he gets to leave his cubicle has become futile.

i just really want them back. please come back home.

but when he comes home from a pain achingly long day of work, he doesn't find you and his mood plummets even more.

that is until one day, kuroo is able to leave work early where he comes home and hears the familiar noise of the coffee maker brewing. his eyes shoot up from his slacks to look over at the kitchen where he sees you in all your beauty, fidgeting with the knobs on the coffee machine. your eyes both lock and you immediately look away.

kuroo thought you were gone for good. and the fact that you were only a couple feet away from him made his heart swell and his eyes water. there's so much to say but his not a single word is escaping his mouth.

"you want some coffee? i just started a new batch," you finally say to fill up the silence of the room.

he gulps, "sure yeah."

you grab a coffee cup and pour him a fresh cup of coffee and slide it to him across the kitchen counter, avoiding getting too close to him.

too nervous to even touch his drink, he begins to address the elephant in the room, "y/n, i'm so sorry for what i said that night. i had no right to speak to you in the manner."

"it's okay," you say in a curt manner. "i get it."

he shakes his head and tries to get closer to you to convey his feelings but is stopped when he sees you take a step back. his heart cracks.

"no it's not okay sweetheart. i've been so busy with work and i just got super overwhelmed with everything and-"

"kuroo, you know you don't have to make any excuses right?" you interrupt his train of thought.

he's confused now. "excuses? y/n what are you even talking about- "

"just end it with me already... i know you want to," you say, looking down at the fresh cup of coffee in your hands. "you made that very clear."

his world freezes.

the world becomes completely silent.

his mouth is slightly open, caught off guard. he doesn't know what to say.

however, you interpret his silence as him putting down the excuses finally and admitting that he doesn't want to put effort into this relationship with you anymore.

hell, he doesn’t even want this relationship with you anymore.

"right, if you won't i will so it's easier for the both of us. i think we should-"

"don't you dare finish that fucking sentence," he moves close to you all of a sudden and his familiar lingering cheap cologne smell takes up your senses. the gears begin to click in his head before you can respond to him.

kuroo's arms envelop you in his embrace. "i want you. only you. i'm sorry i made you think otherwise."

the tears you've been holding back for the past couple minutes standing in front of him overflow and you feel like the world is about to end.

you push kuroo off you slightly. "i know you've been busy with work and i just wanted to spend some time with you. i never meant to come off as clingy but clearly you thought so so-"

"i'm just a complete douche,” he interrupts. “you were trying to help me out and make me feel better and i was so caught up with work, i couldn't appreciate that."

"i never want to ever make you feel that way again. you never deserved to hear any of that from me and everything i said couldn't be far from the truth. your presence has never been a bother and if anything, coming home to you is the best part of my day.”

“i shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me and i'm so sorry that it did and that i hurt you in the process. i hate that i’m the reason behind your tears and i’ll do everything to make it up to you to show you how much i love you."

the tears from your eyes continue to flow and he delicately wipes every single one from your eyes kissing your cheek every time without fail.

"are you sure you don’t find me suffocating? you said that you hated being home with me though so i just thought-" you start to say.

"i will spend my entire life reassuring you that it isn’t true. i promise you are never suffocating me and your presence never fails to make me feel better on a shitty day. i will do anything to regain your trust and faith in me,” he adamantly speaks with his hands in yours.

hearing his determined resolve, the tears flow even more.

"i love you so much, tetsu."

"i love you too baby," he smiles and delicately kisses your lips. "now let's go out. how do you feel about going out for dinner? i’ve got a lot of making up to you to do."

"i'll never say no to that."

bokuto koutaro

the msby jackals lost 2-0 sets and the entire team was taking the loss hard but no one as hard as bokuto.

"bokuto-san, what do you think went wrong today's game?" an interviewer asks with his notepad out, scribbling notes.

"er, uh, well, today was just a rough day and i had a tough time keeping up with the opponent's plays today... it just was not a good day."

"i have one more question," the interviewer asks.

"go ahead," he gruffs out.

"you are known for your infamous line shots especially during deciding moments of the game. you missed multiple of these shots during today's game. were you distracted during this game? is it because of your new relationship status or were-"

bokuto is now riled up. who the hell does this interviewer think he is to corner me and bring in my personal life???

"i'm leaving, fuck this shit," he spits out, trying his best to maintain his composure.

in frustration, bokuto storms out of the press conference room, slamming the double doors, heading towards the locker room to grab his stuff but is stopped by you, running after him.

"kou! wait up!" you say from a distance and he stops in his tracks to look at you. he's still internally raging from the provocative behavior of that interviewer and he feels like he just might lose it.

"what do you want," he says in an aggressive manner that catches you off guard.

you’re aware of the recent loss of the msby jackals. you know that's probably taking a toll on his confidence as a player so you're trying to be as supportive as you can.

"you wanna come back to my place? i was thinking we could watch that one disney movie you like and we could bake something together too? what do you think?"

"why do you always want to fucking hang out?" he says in the lowest tone of voice you've ever heard from him.

it sends shivers down your spine.

"huh?" you're just confused at this point.

"why are you so fucking clingy all the time? it's always 'kou come over!' or 'kou let's watch a movie!' or 'kou let's take a nap together!' like don't you fucking get that i have a genuine career that i'm working really hard to be successful in?"

so that's what he thinks of me.

"i know you want to be a pro volleyball player and i want to support you the entire way. i was just trying to be there for you and help you relax..." you trail. "i get today was really rough for you.."

"that's the thing you don't get it, y/n!" he says exasperatedly. "if you did want to be supportive for me and my career, then you would stop being so all up on me and give my space!"

he walks into the locker room, slamming the door, shaking you up.

in defeat, you begin to leave the stadium with tears brimming your eyes. as you get in your car, you put your head on the steering wheel and suddenly, the tears start to stream out.

"i'll give him his space. i'll just stop everything. i'm nothing of importance to him or his life so it's best if i just stop." you convince yourself.

bokuto, on the other hand, is in the locker room, holding back tears of frustration as he punched one of the lockers.

fuck, what am i even doing right now...

"bokuto-san! let's head out for the night," shoyo's voice can be heard before he can be seen in the locker room. "we're gonna go get drinks and dinner at that new barbecue place that opened up."

he looks up from the bench and smiles at shoyo along with the rest of his teammates that are nodding along in support.

"yeah, sure. fine with me," kou responds with a small smile on his face.

as bokuto and the rest of the jackals are out and about, he keeps looking at his phone in hopes of getting a message or something from you but you're completely radio silent after the spat between the two of you.

he knows you both had a disagreement but he thought you knew that he was just frustrated and upset with the game. he didn't think it was a reason to just go silent on him.

he sends a text to test the waters.

kou <3: babe, we're good right?

he puts his phone down and engages back in the dinner with the rest of the jackals.

an hour has passed yet still no response. it's starting to make him fidgety so he decides to spam you.

kou <3: hello?

kou <3: baby wya???

kou <3: where is the loml at :((

kou <3: BABYYYYYYY

kou <3: POOKIE PLS TXT ME BACK :(((

y/n is typing...

y/n: sry i was getting ready for bed.

you sounded distant. you clearly were upset but was it still about the argument? c'mon you knew he didn't mean what he said... right?

kou <3: ITS OKAY BABY! can i come over? i wanna spend the night with u :,)

kou <3: i miss you

y/n: maybe not tonight... i think it's best if we're by ourselves for a bit

bokuto's hair significantly drooped down, seeing as how he got rejected to hang out with you for the night.

as bokuto heads over to his apartment for the night, he stares at the bedroom ceiling with his thoughts. he misses laying next to his baby. that's when he starts to replay everything that went down between the two of you.

he genuinely can't figure out what went wrong.

he prays that this whole thing will just blow over by tomorrow because he misses you incredibly and just wants to spend time with you.

unfortunately to his demise, you kept shutting down all of kou's efforts to come over. you refused to pick up his calls, resorting to half assed texts.

this whole argument was festering and bokuto had to fix it immediately.

you, however, want nothing more than to spend time with your boyfriend but his words kept running through your mind on loop. anytime you would be sitting alone with yourself, his words kept playing themselves on loop in your brain, making you overthink the post couple months you’ve spent together.

has he always thought of me as clingy? have i always been a bother to him? have i always been super annoying in his eyes?

that was until you heard a knock on the door.

you open the door and see kou standing there in a hoodie and a pair of khakis with a large bouquet of assorted flowers in his hands. his eyes lock with yours while yours widen in surprise.

"k-kou! what are you doing here?" you say in surprise.

"what, i can't see my partnet now?" he retorts lightheartedly. "let me in."

too stunned to even reject him, your hand inherently finds its way to the knob, widening the door so bokuto can fit through into your apartment.

he tries to hand you the flowers but you stand there, hands refusing to move from their sides. "c'mon babe, i got them for you! do you not like them? man, i knew i should've gotten the roses instead."

"no no! thank you so much kou.. i'm just surprised that you even got this for me..." you trail off looking away from him.

he sets the flowers on the kitchen counter and tilts his head in confusion. "what do you mean, y/n?"

"listen, i know you don't really like spending time with me and that you feel obligated to but honestly, we really don't have to hang out or anything like that," you begin to say. "i know i can be a lot sometimes and i'm really working on trying to give you space."

that's when it all clicks in his head for him.

"baby, is this about what i said that day in the gym?" he questions.

you turn away, refusing to even look him in the eye because you know the moment your eyes lock with his, the tears will start streaming down your face.

"baby, no, please," he goes over to you to give you the warmest yet tightest hug possible. "i’m also a very clingy person so i should've known how much my words must have hurt you. i've been so stupid to not see how badly my words must have impacted you, my love. i'm so so sorry for saying and acting the way i did. it's unexcusable."

"no kou it's fine i just-" you say but are interrupted midsentence.

"no, y/n it's not," he says, tears brimming his eyes ever since coming to terms with how hurt you must've been feeling this entire time. "i'll do anything to get your forgiveness and for us to just... be close again. i'll do anything, i mean it."

tears are streaming down both your faces and you can't help but form a wobbly smile on your lips. "pinky promise?"

"pinky promise," kou says as he locks pinkies with you and kisses the top of your head. "now let's cuddle because i've missed being near the love of my life."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved 

[hanniebaeee]

Honey Cakes

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: established relationship, smuttyyyy, fluff

Summary: Hyunjin had it all planned out - a romantic dinner date (plus the surprise). But then he gets almost stood up, and then edged to near insanity. By the time dessert is done, so is his patience.

a/n: Someone sent me something, and I went feral ( @kittentaegu sweetheart, thank you for inspiring me hehe)

The first thing you see when you wake up is chaos in the form of a hundred texts and missed calls from your boyfriend. 

You are still groggy from sleep, but your heart nearly stops as you pick up the phone.

Hyunjin [7:30 PM]: Baby. Love of my life. Where are you?  

Hyunjin [7:30 PM]: I swear to God, if you’re dead, I will kill you.

Hyunjin [7:31 PM]: I’m literally sitting here looking like an abandoned puppy.

Hyunjin [7:32 PM]: The waiter asked if I needed water and was looking at me funny. 

Hyunjin [7:35 PM]: Just say it. You don’t love me anymore.

Hyunjin [7:36 PM]: I was a fool to believe in love.

Hyunjin [7:38 PM]: BRB ordering the most expensive wine so I can SOB into it.

Hyunjin [7:40 PM]: There's a happy couple at the next table. Omg I wanna die 😭

Oh, shit.

Your heart drops as you realize that your fifteen-minute power nap has turned into a one hour coma. It had been such an exhausting day at work, and all you wanted was to take a short nap before you met Hyunjin for your dinner date.

And now your dramatic ass boyfriend is left unsupervised in a fancy restaurant with his overactive imagination. You fumble with the phone as you call him immediately. He picks up in half a ring.

“Oh finally you called,” he sighs, voice dripping with melodrama. “Just say it.”

“Say what?” You sit up too fast and almost fall off the bed.

“You stood me up for thirty minutes,” he declares dramatically. “I am SITTING HERE ALONE in a romantic, candlelit, EXPENSIVE ASS RESTAURANT, looking like a HEARTBROKEN FOOL.”  

You press your lips together because you absolutely cannot laugh right now. Not when he’s being so serious about his suffering.

“Hyunjin, baby,” you say, raiding your wardrobe for something that will make up for this little mishap. And you grin as your eyes land on that dress. 

You haven't worn it before. Another one of Hyunjin's gifts - because he daydreams of you in all pretty outfits his eyes fall on and comes home with the said outfit, begging you to wear it for him. 

“I didn’t stand you up, I just -”

“Oh, so neglect is different from abandonment now?” he challenges, sniffing for dramatic effect. “Interesting.”

“Baby I accidentally took a nap -”

“Oh my God.” He gasps. “You slept through our date?”

“I love you Jinnie, and I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t gaslight me with love.”

You do a quick job with your makeup, and he's still ranting on the other side as you grab your keys and sprint out the door.

“I’m on my way right now, honey bun, I swear.”

“You’d better be,” he grumbles. “Because if I finish this glass alone, I’m throwing myself into the restaurant fountain.”

When you get there, panting from running in heels, Hyunjin is sitting at a candlelit table in the corner looking like a masterpiece and a neglected princess all at once.

You rush over, but before you can even apologize properly, he exhales exaggeratedly. 

“Did you have a nice nap?” he says coolly, twirling his wine glass.

You bite your lip, willing yourself not to laugh.

“Hyunjin, baby -”

“No. It’s fine.” He looks away dramatically. “I understand.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You slide into the chair next to him, lean in so close your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “I said I'm sorry, baby. I'll make it up to you.”

His entire body freezes as your warm breath fan his neck. Then he exhales, eyes dropping to your neckline, hand gripping his wine glass tight.

“This dress…” he mutters, clearing his throat.

“I knew you'll love it. I also haven't eaten all day, so I’m starving.” You smirk, running a teasing hand down his thigh.

He chokes on air.

“Okay. I’m sure we can work this out,” he announces, eyes dark. “In fact, I am not even mad anymore.”

“Thought so.” You grin cheekily, and Hyunjin sighs because it's no secret that you have this man wrapped around your little finger.

He rests his chin on his hand as gazes at you, a soft smile playing on his gorgeous face.

And just when you think that you've won this round, Hyunjin reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a cute velvet box.

“I was going to wait, but honestly, you’re gonna put me in an early grave. So let's do this, yeah?”

Your heart stops as he opens the little box and inside it sits the prettiest ring you've ever seen. His eyes are so gentle, so full of love - none of his usual teasing or the drama. Just him.

“I had a whole speech ready for this, but you stood me up and I panicked and I -”

You swallow hard as he rambled on. He's stumbling on his words, and he's so sweet, you just want to squish cheeks and cry for days. 

“So, marry me?” His voice is so soft as he asks you that, and he's looking at you with those pretty puppy eyes, and you are sure you feel the sting of tears forming in your eyes. 

“You sure?” You tease. “I did stand you up just now.”

He groans, head dropping into the table with a mild thump.

“Just say yes before I have a heart attack.” he says, looking up at you with a smile. 

You laugh, cup his perfect face in your hands, and say the only thing that’s there to say.

“Yes.”

And Hyunjin, the love of your dramatic life, kisses you breathless before slipping the ring on your finger. And you both giggle, foreheads pressed together, and he whispers, “We’re gonna need more wine now.”

Less than fifteen minutes later - Hyunjin is suffering, to say the least. 

Like, genuinely on the verge of passing out in this very fancy restaurant where he just proposed and you said yes. Because instead of rushing home to let him show you just how insanely in love with you he is, you’re… eating. 

Like nothing life-changing just happened. The diamond ring glittered on your finger as you ate like you haven't eaten in days. Literally wolfing down the pasta in between long sips of wine.

Like your hand isn’t resting on his thigh, your fingers idly stroking his inner thigh in a way that is definitely NOT innocent. 

And Hyunjin?  He is in shambles.  

You moan as you take another bite of that darn pasta, completely oblivious to the way he grips the edge of the table like his life depended on it. 

"This is so good," you sigh, licking your lips. 

Hyunjin closes his eyes. Lord, grant me strength.

You hum in absolute bliss, and say, "Baby, you have to try this -"

Try? TRY? Oh you've been trying him for the past fifteen minutes. And now he wants to try something, alright.

He wants to drag you out of this restaurant, throw you onto the first surface he finds, and have his way with you. There is a lot he wants to try right now. 

But no.  Because he’s a gentleman. A respectable, self-controlled, newly-engaged man (who's so close to losing his shit). 

"Are you okay, honey bun?" you ask, blinking at him with innocent, pretty eyes. And Hyunjin forgets how to breathe for a second. 

His thigh tenses under your touch, and he swallows audibly.

"I’m fine," he grits out. 

You tilt your head, unconvinced.  

"You’re not touching your food." 

Because his appetite is for something else entirely, and it is not on this goddamn menu.

"Just -" He clears his throat, shifting a little in his chair. "Just thinking." About all the ways he's going to wreck you the second you both leave.  

You hum thoughtfully, dragging your hand up his thigh just a little higher, and Hyunjin prays. Because if you don’t stop, he is fully prepared to drop to his knees in the middle of this restaurant, and beg for you to let him take you home immediately.

You stab another forkful of pasta and beam at him.  

"So, what are we getting for dessert?" You ask, giving him a sunny smile. 

Hyunjin blinks. Dessert? Then he laughs. It’s a broken,  hysterical laugh. Like he just realized he might not survive the night. And you just smile sweetly, your hand still very much resting on his thigh, way too close to a growing problem. 

The final nail in his coffin was of course, dessert. 

Honey cake. Warm. Moist. So damn sweet. You take your first bite, and Hyunjin swears he saw stars.  

Your head tilts back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting in pure bliss. And Hyunjin stops breathing. So this is how he goes - sweating in his silk button down shirt, rock-hard under the table, watching a damn cake give you an orgasm. More like a foodgasm? 

You let out a soft, sinful moan, and Hyunjin grips the table for dear life. Oh hell. 

You lick the spoon slowly, completely unaware that you are seconds away from being dragged out of this restaurant by your ankles.  

"This is so good, Jinnie," you murmur, voice low and warm. "You have to try this."  

No. He cannot. He physically cannot. Because he was this close to throwing you on the table and getting banned from this restaurant for life.  Which, honestly, might be worth it at this point.  

But then you load up a spoonful, hold it up to his lips, and whisper, "Open up for me, baby."  

OH. SO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY. 

Hyunjin glares at you, jaw so tight he might break his own teeth. But when has he ever denied you anything? He parts his lips, because he’s a damn fool. 

The second the cake melts on his tongue, his eyes slam shut. It's warm and sweet. And it is so deeply unfair that whatever culinary masterpiece this was, wasn't even close to what he actually wanted to taste right now. 

He groans, head falling onto the table again, rolling the taste over his tongue. And when he opens his eyes again, you are grinning like the devil you are.

You tilt your head, eyes full of mock innocence, and murmur, "Good, right?"  

Hyunjin inhales so deeply his lungs feel like they're ready to collapse. He stares at you and leans in, lips so close to yours, as he whispers, "Finish your cake. Then we're leaving. And when we get home, I hope you're ready, baby." 

The moment your fork clinks against the empty dessert plate, his soul fully detaches from his body. Okay. It's done. You're done. 

Now he can finally do what he has been plotting for the last two hours. His chair scrapes back so fast, and he grabs your wrist, and nearly drags you up and out in record time. 

You giggle shamelessly as Hyunjin literally throws you into the passenger seat of his car.  

He slides into the driver's seat, slams the door shut, says nothing for a minute. His head falls back against the headrest, his chest rising and falling as he tries to regulate his breathing. His fingers flex against his thighs.  

And you? You are having the time of your life.  

"Honey bun, why are you so tense?"

Hyunjin lets out a deep laugh. 

"Tense?" He turns his head to look at you, his blown-out eyes locking with yours. "Baby, I have been on the verge of dying for the past two hours." 

You bite back a grin, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to his neck.  

"Mm." You hum against his hot skin. "So dramatic."  

His hand snaps out, grips your jaw, forcing your face up and his lips barely brush yours as he growls, “Wanna say that again?”

The minute you two step into your shared apartment, Hyunjin has you pressed up against the door. And he doesn’t just kiss you. He devours you.

His hands are everywhere at once - one tangling in your hair, the other gripping your ass, pulling you flush against his firm body.

He kisses you like you owe him your soul for making him suffer like that. He's so hard, it's literally painful, and he can't wait a damn minute.

He lifts you up, hands gripping your thighs, making you gasp and wrap your legs around his waist, as he pins you there, caging you between his body and the door. 

His kisses are messy and sloppy, and he's sweating so damn much. You kiss down his jaw and neck and he groans as you nip at the skin around the little black mole on his neck.

Well he couldn't wait anymore. He's stumbling through the apartment, straight into your bedroom and drops you on the bed before he pulls his shirt off. You watch him strip, your eyes roaming his perfect body. 

And his eyes are on you, his hands reaching down and under your dress to pull your panties down your legs and off. He quickly gets rid of the rest of your clothes before your lips connect again. 

He's so impatient. Grabby and needy. But the minute he's finally inside you, he slows down. Because if he didn't, he'd be cumming without literally any action. 

It’s so slow and deep, and both your bodies are so sensitive with need. Your body arches into his, desperate for him to touch you. 

It doesn't take long for both of you to come crashing down from your peaks, and you can barely breathe. Sweaty, breathless, completely spent -  you’re both a mess. Hyunjin’s chest heaves, skin glistening in the dim light. Even his skin was so damn dramatic. 

“I have never known pain like tonight," he says, voice hoarse, eyes closed. 

You snort, nuzzling closer to kissing his damp shoulder.  

"You survived, baby." 

His arm tightens around you, rolling you over so he can pin you underneath him again.  His dark eyes flicker down, lips trailing down your jaw, your throat and your collarbone.   

"Barely."  

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world

[hellfire--cult]

Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.

Movie Night

I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.

wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)

Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.

You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 

But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.

So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.

When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.

And that sets your fate.

Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 

It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.

You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.

Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 

You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.

And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.

You’re fine. 

“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 

“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.

“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 

“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 

You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 

Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.

Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.

After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.

He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.

He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 

You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.

Billy Hargrove.

Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.

“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.

“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.

“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.

“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 

“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.

“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 

“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 

Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 

It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.

“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.

“Why were you crying?” 

“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.

“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.

“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.

“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”

He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.

“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.

“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.

“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.

“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.

“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.

“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.

“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.

“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.

“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.

You didn’t need more reminders.

So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.

Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.

You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.

“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.

“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 

“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.

“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”

A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.

Yet–

“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 

“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.

“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.

“You’re in for a ride.”

Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.

“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 

“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.

“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.

“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.

So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.

“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 

“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.

News flash, you didn’t like it.

“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.

“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”

You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 

“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.

“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 

“What?”

“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.

“Billy–”

“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 

“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.

“Can I kiss you?” 

What?

There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 

“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.

“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.

“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 

You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.

His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?

The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 

He wants to take care of you.

He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.

“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 

He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.

The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 

Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.

The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–

“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.

“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.

“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.

“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.

“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.

“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 

“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.

“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.

“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.

“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.

“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.

“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”

“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.

“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.

“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.

“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 

“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.

He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 

This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’

He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 

He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 

So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 

Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.

But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.

“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.

“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 

While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 

You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 

So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.

His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.

“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.

“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 

“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.

“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.

“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.

“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.

“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.

“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.

“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 

“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 

Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.

“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.

“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.

“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 

“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.

“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.

“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.

“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.

“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.

“My turn.”

A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.

[weakformingyu]

Everything has changed | H.J.

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader

Summary: in a game party you find out that your friend, Jisung, might have a crush on you and after that night you might have developed a crush on him too.

Warnings: Han is a loser, awkwardness, jealousy, pool sex 💅🏻, pussy eating, unprotected piv(don't do this at home), a bit of handjob.

Words count: ±3,400

THIS CONTENT IS FOR +18 PEOPLE ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!!!!!

A/N: I have some weird ass writers block right now(have been like this for months 😭) but I'm not dead, I'm still alive and thinking about a hundred fics a day, I just don't seem to manage to write them 🤓☝🏻 anyways, this fic was inspired in this post because Han Jisung got some crazy biceps going on here and I'm on my biceps biting era soooo 💅🏻(don't come for me if it's trashy, I haven't written in a hundred years)

If you like my writing don't forget to reblog, comment and like too. xoxo love yall

“What do you think about Jisung?” Was the question Changbin asked when you chose truth in the game of truth or dare you were playing.

You smile sheepishly as all the boys stare at you excitedly and the girls have a little smirk on their lips, as if everyone knows something you don't.

“Hm, he's nice”, you shrug.

“You know that's not what he meant”, Ryujin says, raising a brow.

“Well, then be more specific”, you roll your eyes.

“Would you fuck him?” Karina asks, making the whole group gasp with her bluntness. Your eyes dart to Jisung, who's as red as a tomato, his bottom lips are stuck between his teeth while he stares at you anxiously.

“That's- I never thought about that, so I'm not sure”, you answer nervously. Seeing Jisung’s shoulders go down and a pout form in his lips.

“Then, there's your answer”, Karina shrugs, turning the bottle so someone else can go.

You were being truthful, you never thought about your friend in that way. You know he's handsome but you always avoid having second intentions with someone so close to you because you don't want to lose a friendship.

However, after that day and after seeing Jisung's reaction to your answer, you can't shake the feeling that maybe he's into you. You constantly catch his gaze lingering on you, when you guys are alone he keeps stuttering and even when your other friends are around, he treats you differently from them.

A few weekends after that night, Chan invites everyone to a get together in his house so everyone's going to sleep there after. Karina, Ryujin and Lia stop by your house in the early afternoon to get you so you can all go to Chan's together. When you get there, the guys are in the pool playing some sort of game, Felix and Changbin are on top of two floats, fighting while Minho is attacking Changbin with his water gun and Jisung is in the middle of both.

You stop in your tracks, watching as Jisung holds Changbins thighs, his biceps are deliciously showing and flexing as the older man falls out of the float and the younger one catches him, grabbing his bottom slightly but you can't help but wish you could be the one being grabbed by him like that.

Yes, you weren't lying that night when you said you had never thought about Jisung in that way. The problem is, that after you did, you couldn't stop. Everything he did from that night onwards caught your attention. His eyes on you, his lips, the way he smirks when someone says something dirty and he thinks no one's paying attention. The way every piece of fabric he wears hugs his body like it was made just for him. Your girlfriends are already onto you, they know something is off and they have the feeling that you finally opened your eyes to the puppy in love in your group of friends, but they decided not to say anything for now, afraid that they are going to scare you off and make you bury your new found attraction for Jisung deep in your heart, afraid to ruin your friendship.

You shake your head, listening to what the others are talking while you go inside to put your things in the guestroom Chan has prepared for you.

You spend the afternoon mostly just sunbathing while observing the guys joking around and other people arrive little by little taking your attention away from the pool.

While you eat, you can't help but notice a blonde laughing too loudly, catching your attention. She pushes Jisung playfully, throwing her head back, making you huff annoyed, you're sure what he said isn't even that funny.

“I'm gonna get some more beer, does anyone want something from the kitchen?” Jisung gets up, asking around.

“I'll help”, the blonde smiles, following him after some people ask for their beverage of choice and your eyes linger on his figure, as he walks away with the beautiful girl.

“Oh, y/n, can you get some more napkins for us?” Ryujin asks. You frown, you're sure you just saw a mountain of napkins somewhere but you have no idea where it went as you look around and can't find it.

“Sure”, you nod, getting up to go to the kitchen.

As soon as you enter the house you can hear the giggles coming from the kitchen. You take a deep breath trying to gather the courage to go inside and see something you're not sure you want to.

The girl is close to Jisung, too close for her own good, attached to his arm, practically hanging on to him. You scowl, feeling the blood in your body boiling, if you weren't sure about your feelings for your friend, you are damn sure now seeing as you're basically foaming at the mouth with the view right in front of you.

Jisungs gaze lands on you immediately when you enter the kitchen, his eyes grow wide and he takes a step back, detaching himself from the girl.

“Am I interrupting?” You ask, knowing well that you are and ignoring the glare the blonde gives you.

“Ye-” she tries to say, but is cut off by the man whose gaze hasn't left your figure since the moment you arrived.

“No”, he gulps, “what are you looking for?” Jisung asks.

“Napkins”, you say, tilting your head and leaning over the counter. Your elbows rest on the surface, purposely bringing attention to your chest.

“Just a minute”, Jisung gulps, turning around and opening the fridge. He takes out four cans of beer and gives it to the blonde. “You can go back first, I'll bring the rest in a minute”

She looks at him for a whole 10 seconds, stunned and then huffs, marching out of there.

“Your girlfriend is lovely”, you tease him, walking around the counter to get closer to him.

“She's not my girlfriend”, he laughs sheepishly, “we were just talking”

“I'm sure you were”, you say sarcastically and stare at him for a moment. “So? The napkins?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah! Here”, he says, turning around to open the door to the cabinet on top of the sink.

Jisung’s arms look especially strong when he's flexing like that to pull the packages, it's something so mundane but it makes you blush the same way. He closes the door after and hands the products to you. “I'm going to get the beer for the others and follow you in a moment”

You nod, realizing that everything is different now that you know that you like your friend. You like Han Jisung.

You wake up the next morning feeling like shit, you tossed and turned in your bed until you finally fell asleep. You thought about all the things that could go wrong now that you liked one of your friends. What if things didn't work out between you two, you're sure it would cause a rift on your friend group.

Most people went home after midnight, Chan lets only his close friends crash in his house so you know everyone that stayed the night. Lia is by your side, yapping about what you're planning to do in the afternoon while you bite into your bread and try to not freak out when Jisung shows up in the living room. You keep avoiding his eyes, like you're guilty of something, and you definitely are, guilty of liking one of your friends.

In the afternoon you go out with Ryujin, Felix and Hyunjin, you all wanna walk around in the city and buy some clothes you definitely don't need. In the car you stare outside, your friends notice you're dozing around but prefer to wait for you to tell them if something is wrong.

After buying a new bikini, you just accompany your friends in their shopping spree. When you have no more room in the car for any more bags, you finally sit to get something to eat and while you wait for your order, you seize the opportunity to ask what's been on your mind in the last hour.

“Does Jisung like me?” You ask, you want to be sure that he doesn't want to just sleep with you.

“Where did that come from?” Felix frowns.

“That night I was asked if I would sleep with him”, you blush, “I was just wondering if he likes me or just finds me attractive”

Below the table, your fingers are pressing and scratching one another, you're nervous.

“I thought it was pretty obvious”, Hyunjin says, shrugging and getting elbowed by Felix.

“I don't think we are supposed to talk about that”, the younger one smiles awkwardly.

“Oh, please. It's not like the guy has made any effort to keep it a secret”, Ryujin rolls her eyes. “Clearly y/n likes him, that's why she wants to know”, your friend completes, laughing as your eyes grow wide. “It's not like you are making any effort to hide it either”

“Yes, he likes you”, Hyunjin says, ignoring Felix’s worries, “but he was very disheartened after that night when you said you never thought about him in that way”

‘It's a lie, but you don't need to know that’, he thinks to himself. Hyunjin is much more experienced in the love field, opposite to you and Jisung, so he knows you just need a little push for things to start working out and he doesn't mind being the one shoving you to each other.

“Oh”, that's all you can say.

That means maybe he doesn't like you anymore, right? That girl from the other night was very pretty, maybe she's his new type. She looked very girly and soft, you don't know if you would be considered any of that. Most importantly, she was clearly interested in him, maybe he wants to go after someone who doesn't reject him in front of everyone he knows.

You toss and turn once more in bed, Ryujin is sleeping right next to you and you're afraid of waking her up because you can't sleep. Your mind is so full of thoughts, a million per hour and you just can't stop thinking about how you ruined everything with the guy you like.

Even with the AC turned on, you're still hot and since you don't want to wake up anyone, you silently grab your bikini, putting it on before going to the pool.

You didn't expect to find Jisung there, he's just floating in the water with a pout on his lips and eyes closed, maybe he fell asleep?

You sit comfortably on the edge of the pool, putting only your feet in the water and watching Jisung. After a few minutes of complete stillness, the man opens his eyes, taking a deep breath and sinking into the water.

He comes back a few seconds later, back turned to you and you can't help but watch him. His back is muscular, broad shoulders with a tiny waist. When he turns around, he flinches, seeing you there, staring at him.

“I didn't mean to scare you”, you chuckle.

“It's fine”, he scratches the back of his head, “I thought I was the only one still awake”

“It's really hot, I couldn't sleep”, you say, it's not the whole truth but you're not sure if you want him to know that he's the reason you're still wide awake.

He nods, awkwardly looking around while his hands play with the water. Since that game, you both have been feeling weird near each other, you for discovering these new emotions towards your friend and him for being embarrassed that you knew about his one sided crush.

‘Maybe it's worth it’, you think to yourself. He already risked it all when he let you know about his crush, it's not the end of the world if he doesn't like you anymore, you just have to ask.

“About that night…”, you ask out of nowhere with a courage you have no idea where it came from. “Do you still like me?”

Jisung opens his mouth a few times, closing it right after, not knowing what to say. He takes a deep breath before answering.

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything”, he sighs.

“Do you still like me?” You frown, repeating your question.

“Yeah, I do”, he shrugs, embarrassed.

“I never thought about you that way before”, you say, seeing the pout growing in his lips, “but after that night I kinda did”

Jisung stares at you for a minute before speaking again.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I like you back”, you feel your whole face heating while you wait for him to react. You both are still far from each other, Jisung in the middle of the pool while you're at the edge. His eyes grow wide and his lips open like he has something to say but doesn't know how.

He starts coming close to you, your heart beating faster as the distance between you both lessens, until the man stops in front of you, his hands landing on each side of your thighs but still not touching.

“Can you repeat that?” He blushes, “I don't want you to say you like me back just because you pity me”, he bites on his bottom lip and you smile. You cup his face with your hands, bending down so you can kiss him. His lips are soft and he tastes good, sweet, like something you would never get tired of. His hands finally touch your skin, sliding to your thighs and squeezing the plushy flesh.

“If you knew me at all, you'd know I would never lie about liking someone”, you let go of him, smiling and giving him a peck before growing the distance between your faces.

“I just really like you”, he blushes, biting his bottom lip, finally letting his gaze travel down your body, going through your tits pushed up by the bikini top and going down your stomach, until it reaches your bikini bottom, his hands squeezing your thighs even more to the view of your body in front of him.

“Is that so?” You smirk, “show me then”, you smile, bending down to whisper in his ear. “Show me how much you like me”

Jisung doesn't waste any time, grabbing your face with only one hand and squeezing your cheeks, kissing you harshly. His other hand slides up, pulling the strings of your bikini bottom so he can untie the bow. He pulls away from you, leaving kisses down your neck, he has his hand down on your pussy, putting on a finger and watching your reaction to it.

You moan, grinding your hips against his hand so you can feel him deeper. Jisung has his mouth slightly opened, dazed with the little whimpers you let out when he adds another finger inside you. Your hands go instantly to his shoulders, nails burying in his skin while his other hand unties the top of your bikini, freeing your tits. Jisung watches them bounce with his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. He can't help himself, coming closer, his mouth closing on your left breast, his tongue playing with your nipple, making you moan.

His thumb slides to your clit and you bite on your bottom lip, trying not to make too much noise — at least not more than you're already making.

The man smiles, kissing down your stomach, getting closer to your pussy and you can feel his breath hitting the skin, making you tremble.

He licks a stripe between your folds, your hands fly to his hair pulling the locks. Jisung's hands slide to your thighs, pulling you more to the edge of the pool. Putting your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your ass so he can eat you out more intensely.

He looks like a man starved, the way he groans and moans just by feeling your taste. Jisung is so turned on he could come just by feeling your tight pussy in his mouth. The sounds you make are divine, he can't believe he gets to hear you like this, because of him, just for him.

“I- I'm gonna-”, you can't even finish your sentence, moaning the moment you try to say more than three words.

“Come for me, baby”, he stops eating you out just to say it, going back to work as soon as the words leave his mouth, he stares at you intensely from down there, working even harder and making you come undone in his mouth.

You take a few deep breaths, eyes closed. You can't believe how good he's at this and it also makes you a bit jealous, how did he get so good?

You watch as the man cleans around his mouth with his thumb, immediately taking the finger to his mouth to lick it clean and you hold the moan that wants to escape your mouth.

“Do you want to keep going?” He asks, not expecting you to but hoping that you do.

You nod, untying the other side of your bikini bottom, throwing the piece of fabric behind you.

You take Jisung's hands in yours, guiding them to your waist as you push yourself into the water. The man holds you, kissing your lips as soon as you are close enough to him. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your thighs when he pulls you towards him, wanting to feel your body on his and you can feel the heat growing all over your body again.

You slide your hand inside his shorts, grabbing his dick and making him whimper in your mouth. You bite on his bottom lip, your hand makes movements of back and forth, making Jisung bend down and bite your shoulder, trying to suppress his moan. You groan, it feels good having him so close to you, marking you as his.

You pull his shorts down all the way down, pushing yourself up and wrapping your legs around his hips. Jisung grabs his cock, rubbing his tip on your entrance, slightly teasing your clit.

“Are you sure about this?” He groans, trying to control himself, “after this I won't let you go”

You nod, closing your eyes in anticipation.

“Words”, he whispers, barely being able to hold himself back.

“Fuck.me.now”, you say with gritted teeth, opening your eyes to stare at him, holding onto his shoulders when he finally enters you.

You feel like heaven when he's inside you, your velvet walls tightening around him make him groan.

“Shit”, he cusses, biting on his bottom lip. “You're so hot”, he gets closer, kissing you deeply. His lips are so soft, you could never get over it.

Jisung starts thrusting, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you closer, fucking you deeper.

Your hands slide to his hair, pulling the locks while his lips go down your neck. He bites on your skin, sucking the area until it's red and you're sure it's gonna leave a mark. One of his hands goes to your clit, rubbing the bud, making you get closer to your climax.

“I'm close”, he says, his thrusts faster and his fingers working diligently.

“I'm close too”, you say, kissing him, feeling his thrusts getting sloppier. You feel the hot liquid being spilled inside you, but he doesn't stop. Jisung keeps going, putting more pressure into your clit until you're trembling around him. He whimpers in your mouth, his hips faltering and both of your breaths growing tired.

He rests his head on your shoulder for a few seconds, before moving away from you, staring at you like you're going to fight him and run off.

“I guess you like me a lot”, you smirk, watching him blush and smile.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” He asks, biting on his bottom lip.

“I thought you'd never ask”, you smile, giving him a peck on the lips. “I even already have the reason for our first fight”, you raise one brow, laughing as his eyes grow wide.

“What?”

“You are going to have to explain to me how you got so good at eating pussy”, you tease and he smiles.

“I guess I'm just a natural”, he shrugs, making you shake your head in amusement and kiss him.

You could get used to this, you definitely can.

[rcmclachlan]

The Least Vulnerable Spot 8x16 spec fic

In which I ask the ultimate questions: under what circumstances would Tommy not attend the memorial procession for Bobby? Also, how silly can I make this?

+

Buck has never considered himself to be that guy, but when a man hands you the viral antidote he stole for you, kisses you on a rooftop backlit by the sunset while a couple of Sikorsky UH-60s hover threateningly, and whispers "Here's looking at you, kid" before ushering you through the rooftop door so you can save your family while a bunch of stone-faced Army guys advance, you tend to have an expectation or two. Like, that he'll pick up his fucking phone when you call. 

He's left so many voicemails and sent so many texts to Tommy's phone over the last four days that he's pretty sure Verizon has his account flagged, but he thinks Petrea, his account rep, would understand if he explained that his ex-but-maybe-not-ex-boyfriend flew in like a superhero and then ghosted him when Buck needed him the most. She might even dig up a Jilted Before Your Father Figure's Funeral discount for his troubles. 

It's been a week since they held the procession for Bobby, and not even Buck showing up at Tommy's house the night before and pounding on the door for an hour while shouting that he was yellow-bellied (partly true), a traitor to the 118 name (mostly true), and a lousy lay (bold-faced lie) could make the little coward show his face. 

So he's done. He is finished with Tommy Kinard and his massive amounts of baggage that would make even Briggs & Riley close up shop, and he's proving it by leaving one final voicemail that isn't influenced by his sadness over Bobby's death, the stress of the last couple of weeks, or by how much Tommy's abandonment has hurt him. He's going to be a rational adult about this. He's going to be the bigger person.

".... This is all to say that I hope you have an amazing life, Tommy," he says into his phone speaker. "I hope it's filled with love and support, and it's meaningful and fulfills your soul. And I hope you fall in love with a beautiful, kind man who treats you right, and I hope you get married and stay together for fifty blissful years, and then I hope you wake up from the coma to realize it was all a dream and you're all alone, because apparently that's what you really want! And I know you were quoting a movie on the rooftop, and you know what? I'm not going to even look up which movie it was! Look at me, kid, or whatever it was you said!"

Buck misses the days when he could snap his phone shut to hang up, because stabbing end call twenty times until his finger actually taps the button just doesn't give him the same kind of satisfaction. 

Panting for a moment, he pushes all his anger and pain into a little lockbox in the back of his mind, shuts the lid, and takes a breath. Then he pockets his phone and looks up to find everyone in the station frozen, staring at him like he just performed a magic trick or saw a bug on the wall and didn't identify it out loud.

"What?!" he snaps at all of their slack-jawed faces. "Never seen a rational adult before?"

Out of nowhere, a hand lands on his shoulder like a jump scare, and he startles back so hard he almost throws an elbow into Acting Captain Henrietta Wilson's wrinkled nose.

"Hey, Buckaroo," Hen coos. The expression on her face would be more at home on someone who's been tasked with single handedly cleaning up a nuclear meltdown. "Maybe we should put our phones in our lockers so we're not distracted by our very confusing situationships. At least until lunch time when I can escape to Rosetti's to get a break from it."

Buck doesn't whine and he definitely doesn't stamp his feet. "Yeah, but what if he calls?" 

"You know, he probably would just to tell you the quote is actually Here's looking at you, kid," Hen admits. 

"I don't get it. Who's looking at me?" Buck mutters, giving his phone the stink eye before looking up. "What are you doing out here? I thought you were doing paperwork."

Hen shrugs with her entire face. "Well, I was, but when you started wailing I thought another raccoon got caught in the vent fan again, so."

For someone who got the job under the worst set of circumstances imaginable, she looks completely at home in the role, the way she always does. Buck's trying like hell to be happy for her, and he is, deep deep deep down, but he'll be the first to admit he hasn't been handling it well. Yesterday she'd brought in a tiny potted succulent and put it in the upper left corner of what was now her desk where a framed photo of Athena, May, and Harry once sat, and Buck accidentally knocked it onto the floor. And accidentally stepped on it. Twice. Accidentally.

She'd stared at him until he started to sweat, then said flatly, "You're buying me two more."

"Yep," he'd agreed. There's now a bigger succulent on the desk and a bushy lemon lime maranta on the windowsill. 

Whatever she sees on his face makes her roll her eyes, but she puts her hand on his shoulder again and says, "Okay. You get thirty seconds. Lay it on me."

Buck blinks. "Really?"

"Twenty-nine now," Hen says.

Damn, that's generous. Eddie only gave him ten before he tapped out. 

Squaring his shoulders, Buck lets it all come tumbling out: "I thought this meant something! He threw in with us again and kissed me on the roof and said whatever he said and it was supposed to mean something! You don't just bail after that! He was supposed to be here! He was supposed to support me at the funeral! He was supposed to be there for me at the procession and then fuck the sadness out of me afterward! I had a plug in and everything!"

"Time's up," Hen breaks in, a look of abject horror on her face. 

Buck throws his hands up. "That had to only be twenty seconds at most."

Hen's eyes dart down to his hips, then back up to his face. Her glasses magnify them, so they look bigger and wider than usual. She looks like one of those Precious Moments figurines his mom used to collect. "You had a—Buck, that procession went for a full mile."

"Believe me," Buck grumbles, shifting to try and escape the chafed ache that refuses to go away. "I'm well aware. Serves me right for going with the biggest one I own, but, like, I thought Tommy was gonna—"

"Aaaand we're done." Hen executes a perfect about-face and marches in the direction of the admin offices. 

Buck calls after her, "Bobby would've heard me out!"

"Bobby would've jammed pencils in his ears!" Hen shouts over her shoulder. "Which is exactly what I'm about to do!"

This is exactly what he means when he tells Dr. Copeland that no one ever listens to him. 

He's about to go see if he can corner Chimney somewhere with limited escape routes when his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. His heart gets caught up in a dizzying storm of excitement, dread, and grim satisfaction, because he knew Tommy wouldn't be able to deal with the idea of Buck not looking the quote up.

But when he takes his phone out of his pocket, the incoming call isn't from Jaw of Gibraltar ❤️, but Lucy Donato.

Sighing, he takes the call. "Uh, h-hey Lucy—"

She cuts him off immediately with a curt, "Look, don't think I'm not grateful or anything. We all are. Not being forced to listen to sad James Ingram songs day in and day out has been wonderful, but it's been two weeks already and we need our lead pilot back."

"I—what? Lucy, I hate to tell you, but—"

"Tell me precisely zero details about how dick drunk you are, Buckley," Lucy says flatly. "Just tell me when you're letting him go. Cap's getting antsy and Baxter's been on call for so long that his wife is ready to kill him and turn his body into mulch."

Buck stares at Engine 2 until it blurs. "You... are talking about Tommy, right?"

"No, I'm talking about the other dipshit I work with who committed domestic terrorism because your asshole is a Disneyland attraction." Buck makes a face but doesn't correct her. Tommy once likened sex with Buck to riding Big Thunder Mountain for the first time. "He's missed like four shifts. Any more and Cap is gonna have to, like, make some calls. Where the fuck's our pilot, Buckley?"

"He hasn't been in at all?" He echoes faintly, a sinkhole opening in his gut. 

Lucy makes a sound of disgust. "Frankly, I can't believe they dropped your charges. You're way too dangerous to be allowed among the general populace."

The Army colonel who swanned into Chim's hospital room like he expected them to scatter like roaches had taken one look at all of them and scoffed. "Every fiber of my being hates what I'm about to say, but I can't handle another phone call from Sergeant Grant, so: on behalf of the United States government, we're dropping all federal charges for everyone in this room. If I see any of you ever again, I will throw you into a hole so deep it'll make the Kola Borehole look like something a kid dug at the beach."

Except not everyone was in the hospital room that day.

Buck squeezes his eyes shut. "Hey, so I need to call you back."

"Wait, Dana wants to talk to you."

With a yelp of pure terror, Buck stabs his phone until the call ends, then immediately calls Jaw of Gibraltar ❤️. It goes right to voicemail, like it's been doing, and now Buck is pretty sure he knows why.

"Heeeeeeeey," he says through a grimace. "So, uh, I need you to ignore all the other voicemails and texts I sent you. Um, it's entirely possible the reason you haven't been picking up my calls might be, uh, sort of my fault, but just think: someday when we've been married for fifty years, we'll probably still be laughing about this whole thing."

Inbox full, the automated voice cheerfully tells him.

Cringing, he calls Athena.

+

Buck has never actually seen a federal prison—Jamestown was a regular prison, and he didn't have enough time to stop and take it all in—so he's not sure what to expect, but when they fly over Victorville Medium-Security Federal Correctional Institute, he's surprised to see it looks more like an army base than anything. 

The pilot who picked him, Athena, and LAFD union lawyer Bernadette Kaine up from Harbor One—and that had sucked, because the entire Harbor crew was standing on the tarmac giving him the evil eye as he boarded, and while Dana didn't physically drag her thumb across her throat he could see the same sentiment in her blank expression—didn't actually introduce himself, but his name was embroidered on the arm of his flight suit. 

"Your last name is 'Goodenough'?" Buck had asked, grinning. "'Pilot Goodenough'? Hopefully your flying is a lot better than your name suggests!"

Pilot Goodenough stared stone-faced out the windshield and said, "We might hit turbulence during the flight."

And they did, but oddly only whenever Buck unbuckled his belt. The last time Buck went to get up, Athena threatened to shoot him.

When they land, Colonel Whatshisname is there to greet them, and he looks both exhausted and furious to see him and Athena again. 

"Sergeant Grant," the colonel acknowledges through gritted teeth, ignoring Buck entirely. "It's such a pleasure to see you again."  

Athena simply crosses her arms and stares him down, which is impressive to watch, considering the guy's like 6'7". He's shriveling under her scrutiny before Buck's very eyes. 

"Colonel, it appears you forgot something," Athena says, lightly and terrifyingly.

"Someone," Buck interjects, with nowhere near the same impact.

Colonel Whatshisname sighs, looks heavenward at the departing helicopter as though he'd like nothing more than to flag Pilot Goodenough back down to take him away, then beckons them all inside.

When they get to whoever's office the colonel commandeered, Buck is almost completely distracted from why they're there by the sheer amount of rubber ducks that clutter up every flat surface in the room. No two are the same. There's even a little viking duck, complete with a mace. 

"Can I—" Buck starts slowly, inching his hand toward a duck that looks like a firefighter.

Colonel Whatshisname sits down at the desk, hard. "No."

"That's fair."

"Colonel Spade," Bernadette begins, opening her worryingly bulging briefcase. "I'd like to begin by thanking you for your ti—"

"Colonel, you know why we're here," Athena cuts in, taking the seat on the other side of the colonel's desk. She has to clear a path through all the ducks lined up at the edge so she can rest her clasped hands there. "When the charges were dropped for the members of the 118 involved in the incident, LAFD pilot Thomas Kinard's charges should have been included."

At that, Buck moves to stand menacingly at her shoulder like an attack dog, although the colonel doesn't look all that impressed at the display. If anything, he gets a look on his face like he'd just swallowed an assassin bug. Specifically a North American wheel bug. 

"Normally, I would agree with you, but Thomas Kinard abused his military rank and previous clearance to gain access to a secure government building, steal proprietary assets from a lab that could have caused great harm to the population of Los Angeles, and physically assaulted personnel on his way out," Colonel Spade snaps at her. "There was no way we were letting any of that go."

"Assaulted?" Athena lifts a brow. 

"That's awful," Buck rasps, pressing his thighs together. "Like, how many people and what did he do to them? Like, were there concussions? Broken bones? You can go into detail, I'm not squeamish."

The thought of Tommy fighting his way to get to Buck is so disgustingly hot that he might pop a woody in front of Athena, their lawyer lady, a visibly upset military man, and three thousand ducks. Still not the worst place he's ever been turned on.

"Without Kinard, we never would've gotten the antidote in time to save all those people," Athena says, and yanks her chair forward a little, away from Buck. "The people you deemed collateral damage in the fallout of the release of the CCHF virus."

"No one could have predicted Dr. Blake would go rogue," Colonel Spade says easily, with hate in his eyes. "This is hardly the fault of the—"

Suddenly, Bernadette sits up, and it feels like someone's put a spotlight on her. Buck kind of expects her to break into song or something, but what happens is actually so much better.

"The day Dr. Blake stole the virus, her employment was terminated, effective immediately, and yet security didn't walk her out of the building, which goes against all federal mandated safety protocols," Bernadette says, all smiles, practically glowing. "The lab—property of the U.S. government, if I remember correctly—was entirely unsupervised, which gave Dr. Blake the unfettered opportunity to tamper with the virus, speeding up its incubation period without authorization. Or, perhaps she did have authorization and the government failed to disclose this. Tell me, what else is going on under our noses that the government isn't telling us?"

"Try to disappear the brave people who risk their lives to do the right thing, apparently," Athena answers pointedly. 

"I thought you were a union lawyer," Colonel Spade says through a visibly clenched jaw. "What do you know about federal pharmaceutical law?"

Bernadette's smile goes sharp. "I dabble."

Colonel Spade looks, for lack of a better word, murderous. He's probably one smarmy comment from grabbing the nearest rubber duck and bludgeoning Bernadette to death with it.

But Buck has never been able to help himself. "Is this a bad time to mention my ex-girlfriend is an investigative reporter?"

Athena drops her head into her hand. "Buck."

"I'm just saying!" He crosses his arms, trying to puff himself up the way some animals do when they're faced with a predator. "It sure would be a shame if an anonymous tip about all this landed in her lap."

Colonel Spade squints at him. "Are you threatening me, Firefighter Buckley?"

"You're trying to bury Tommy to save your own ass," Buck growls. "Yes, I'm threatening you."

Wordlessly, Bernadette reaches into her briefcase, which looks like it's seriously ready to bust open at the seams, and slides over a packet of paper to Colonel Spade. The colonel snatches it up and starts reading, and the longer he does, the paler he gets.

Finally, he lowers the packet and stabs Bernadette with his eyes. "Where did you get this?"

"I play mahjong with your ex-wife every Sunday," Bernadette says, like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "She sends her regards. Well, she actually sent the tip of her blackmail iceberg. How is your new wife, by the way? She graduate from college yet?"

Eyes wide, Buck looks at the colonel, who's got the swallowing wheel bugs look on his face again.

After the most awkward ten seconds that Buck's had to endure since Eddie crashed his and Tommy's pizza date, the colonel folds like a bad row of mahjong tiles.

"Fine," he says with a sigh, then glares at Bernadette. "And no, she's a junior."

Buck picks up a rubber duck with sharp teeth like a vampire. "Gross."

+

The colonel washes his hands of them by pushing them onto two enormous guards named Weekes and Kluger, who are basically human trees. 

When Kluger gets his orders to take them to cell 58, he droops like a wilting plant. "Hey, you're not here to, like, take Kinard to Gitmo, right? It's just—he's really cool. He's got the wildest stories."

"Dude figured out what was wrong with my car just from listening to a video on my phone." Weekes grins, then leans in to whisper conspiratorially to Buck, "it was the alternator."

"I offered to introduce him to my sister," Kluger says as they board the elevator, and he's either oblivious to Buck's glare searing a hole in his head or is just flat-out ignoring it, because he continues blithely, "but he said he doesn't like girls. Which is cool. I'm down with the rainbow, you know? So I told him about my cousin, Martin."

Buck makes a politely interested noise, but it mostly sounds like he's biting straight through his tongue. Athena elbows him hard enough to bruise his spleen.

"And what did he have to say about Martin?" Buck asks. Meanwhile, every bone in his body is vibrating at a frequency only dogs can hear.

Kluger doesn't seem to be aware that the head is going to burst into flames any second now. "He said he was flattered and that Martin was hot, but he's already got his heart pinned on someone on the outside."

Buck relaxes with a pleased smile.

"Yeah, except whoever it is left him in here to rot," Weekes adds.

"T-That's unnecessary and completely untrue," Buck lies, trying to sink into the floor so he won't drown in shame right in front of them. 

Thankfully, the elevator comes to a stop at the 5th floor, and Buck pushes his way out to gulp some fresh air. 

He's not sure if being on the 5th floor is a good or bad thing. Tommy was charged with domestic terrorism; what if this is the domestic terrorism floor? What if he's neighbors with neo-nazis? What if he'd been jumped by a faction in the shower and took a beating and has spent the last few days pissing blood and breathing through broken ribs and cursing the day he ever picked up Chimney's call about needing a pilot for an unauthorized rescue? 

What if he regrets ever meeting Buck?

But before Buck can ask Kluger for a bucket to throw up in, they come to a stop in front of a cell marked with the number 58, and Buck forces himself to look inside.

Apparently the question Buck should've been asking was what if Tommy's lying on his bed playing paddle ball while he mouths along to whatever 80s hip-hop song is playing on a little radio? Because that's exactly what Tommy's doing.

"I gave him the radio," Weekes says proudly, reaching out to knock on the glass door. Tommy looks up without pausing his game. The ball keeps thwacking against the wood.

"He's so good at that," Kluger says, starry-eyed. "He beat Officer Amino last week and that guy's won tournaments."

"Is it Girl Scout cookie season already?" Tommy asks cheerfully, then effortlessly twists the paddle so the cord wraps around it. He tucks the ball in. "Sorry, I don't have my wallet on me."

Buck shoves Kluger aside to practically press his nose to the glass. "We take IOUs."

As soon as he sees Buck, Tommy brightens, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He stands, stretching with a groan, and then walks over to the door. Even in the bland blue jumpsuit, he's stupid hot. Helplessly, Buck puts his palm against the glass.

"Nice of you to stop by," Tommy says with a teasing lilt, pressing his own palm to Buck's, and Buck swears he can feel the heat of it through the pane. 

"I was in the neighborhood," Buck teases back. "Figured I'd pop in."

"I won't lie, I've been dreaming about you showing up for a conjugal visit." Tommy looks away from Buck's face to squint at everyone else. "Although you guys weren't there."

At that, Athena cracks a smile and says in an odd voice, almost twangy, "You stupid mullet head, he beat you with nothin'."

Tommy perks up and doesn't miss a bit, drawling, "Yeah, well, sometimes nothin' can be a real cool hand."

Before Buck can ask what the hell they're talking about, someone shoves him aside with surprising strength. He's a little surprised to see it's Bernadette, who he kind of forgot about, but she's clearly the only one who remembers why they're here because she raps on the glass and says, "Mr. Kinard, my name is Bernadette Kaine and I'm here to take you home."

"We're here to take you home," Buck amends. 

Tommy looks at Bernadette for a long moment, head tilting like a puppy hearing a noise for the first time and gaze narrowed, and then snaps his fingers. "Hey, I know you! I sent my paperwork to you the last time I stole a helicopter."

Sighing, Bernadette nods. "If you do it a third time, I get a free sundae."

"What do I get?" Tommy asks.

"Permanent incarceration and possibly the death penalty."

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Tommy mulls that one over, then gives a decisive nod. "Sounds about right."

+

The helicopter ride home is spent mostly with Buck plastered to Tommy's side while he fills him in on everything he missed. Tommy's devastated to hear about Bobby. He offers Athena his condolences over the open mic, then curls his hand around his headset speaker to murmur apologies into Buck's ear. 

"I wish I'd been there for you," Tommy says, and the words ease some kinked cable inside Buck he hadn't known was there. "I'm sorry I wasn't."

"I'm sorry I forgot there were consequences to your actions and left you to the mercy of the Army," Buck says, pressing his forehead to the jut of Tommy's jaw. "I just assumed everything was taken care of, and I… kind of thought you were ghosting me."

At that, Tommy snorts, wrapping an arm around Buck to hold him impossibly closer. "Evan, come on. You don't kiss a man like that and quote Humphrey Bogart and then ghost him. I'm an asshole and a coward, but I'm not a monster."

Buck winces. "Uh, yeah, when you have a second, can I see your phone?"

"What for?"

"It's better if you don't know," Buck says. "Completely unrelated, but you don't have a code for your voicemail, do you, and if so, can I have it?"

Tommy snickers and presses a kiss to Buck's temple. "How bad did it get?"

"Well, I taught Chim the word 'motherfuckface', so you tell me," Buck admits, cracking a grin when Tommy laughs out loud, but he has a hell of a time trying to keep it up. Finally, he gives up the ghost and tucks his face against Tommy's, eyes prickling hot with guilt. "I'm so sorry. I should've known. I should've known. Never in a million years would you have bailed on the funeral. It should've been my first clue that something was wrong."

Tommy snugs him in close and says quietly, barely audible over the rotors, "To quote an incredible man who drives me up the wall: 'it seems there's a lot we don't know about each other.' I'm glad you know I wouldn't have left you in the lurch like that, but there's a lot more… there's a lot more about me that you should know. That I… well, not exactly want you to know, but that I will tell you. Willingly. Well, not exactly willingly, but—"

"Y-Yeah?" Sniffling a little, Buck pulls away just enough to be able to look up at him. "What are you doing Saturday?"

It wins him a smile. "Vivisecting myself for you, apparently. And maybe burgers afterwards?"

Grinning, Buck snuggles shamelessly back in. "Actually, I wanted to make Bobby's famous lasagna for you. I think I've finally nailed it down. Then you can nail me down."

But before Tommy can respond, Athena breaks in over the line and takes a baseball bat to the moment. "Change the subject. Now."

Swallowing hard, Buck nods and pastes on a smile that doesn't scream 'I'm chubbed up a little in my jeans and I'm trying not to make it everyone's problem.' He coughs a little. "So, uh, who's Humphrey Bogart? Does he have a podcast or something?"

Tommy turns to Athena. "Actually, thanks, but no thanks. Take me back to prison."