#I guess he’s The Red Beanie now

[betterthanbatman1]

Jason Todd Red Beanie appreciation post

[theemporium]

[11.6k] when in desperate need for a date to your friend's wedding, the last person you expected to step up was nico hischier. then again, he didn't step up as much as he was thrown into the mess by jack.

inspired by 'the spanish love deception' by elena armas

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“Come on!”

“When I said a favour, I didn’t mean this!”

“You said you would do anything!”

“Yeah, like help change a flat tire. You know, the normal things!”

“Do you even know how to change a flat tire?”

“Well…”

“Jack.”

The boy let out a noise mixed between a laugh and an exaggerated groan as he threw his head back. He was just fresh out of the shower after practice, hair still dripping and cheeks flushed red, when you found him by the trainers’ kitchen grabbing a protein shake. 

Your friendship with Jack Hughes was one made through the bond of joining the New Jersey Devils together. He was newly drafted and feeling the pressure of being first pick, whilst you were freshly entering the real world on your own two feet with no real plan in your head. It was by chance that a friend of a friend had managed to pull you a job with the hockey team. And it was by chance you ended up befriending the new hot-shot player in a sport you honestly didn’t know all that much about. 

Still from the first day, after a very awkward meeting on both parts, you and Jack Hughes had been the best of friends—which was exactly why you thought he would help you out on being your plus one to a wedding. 

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Jack whined, leaning against the counter that displayed all the blenders and ingredients for the players’ protein shakes and smoothies. “Isn’t it your friend’s wedding? Why do you need a plus one, it’s not like you won’t know anyone?” 

“That’s not the point,” you huffed out, feeling like a disgruntled child as you crossed your arms over your chest and resisted the urge to pout. 

Jack raised his brows. “So, what is the point?” 

“I—” You paused, something bitter and nostalgic twisting in your chest before you shook your head. “Can you do it or not? It’s not like you are running off to the Bahamas on your week off. You said yourself that you were free.” 

“The Bahamas sounds better than a wedding in South Carolina,” he grumbled, his lips twitching upwards when you knocked his shoulder with your own. He looked like he was about to say something else before he paused, his eyes brightening. “So, you really need a date to this thing?”

You shot him a look. “Did the last twenty minutes of me begging not give it away?”

His grin widened, something quite unsettling in the smile. “So, you’re desperate?” 

You frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t say desperate—”

“Nico is free this week!” Jack announced loudly, his grin reaching scary levels of taking over his face before his eyes glanced over your head. “Aren’t you, cap?”

Your eyes widened a little as you whirled around, finding the Devils captain standing a few feet away from the two of you. He was dressed similarly to Jack, in a team-branded hoodie and sweatpants, with his wet hair tucked under a beanie. He looked a bit caught off-guard as he glanced between the two of you, though his eyes lingered on Jack.

“Uh, yeah,” he cleared his throat, standing a little taller. “I guess. I didn’t have any plans—”

“Brilliant!” Jack clapped his hands together. “Nico can be your fake boyfriend to your friend’s wedding.”

Your head snapped around to glare at your friend. “I just needed a date—”

“Yeah, your date is your boyfriend,” Jack retorted.

Your glare hardened. “And I asked you—”

“And I’m busy,” Jack said with a shrug, almost as if he was saying ‘what could you do?’. “But Nico is free and you know each other. It should be an easy solution, right?” 

You finally had the courage to face Nico, who looked a bit stunned himself. If it were any other day, you would have laughed at the fact that the captain looked so lost and unsure of himself, so unlike himself. But right now—with the tightening band around your chest that felt like it would crush your ribs—you couldn’t find yourself to even smile.

“You don’t have to,” you said eventually, when you finally found your voice again and your thoughts were coherent. “Jack is just—”

“I’ll do it,” Nico blurted out.

You blinked.

“I mean,” Nico paused, looking a little flustered at his own sudden announcement. “If you need someone, I can help out. I don’t mind, really.” He paused again. “We’re friends, right? This is what friends do.”

“Yeah, friends,” you repeated, clearing your throat a little before giving him a strained smile. 

And just like that, Nico Hischier—captain of the New Jersey Devils—was your wedding date.

…

You decided that after this wedding was over and done, you were going to kill Jack Hughes.

In your mind, Jack would have agreed to help you out with your predicament, you would have gone to the wedding and had a laugh together. This would be one of those memories that you two would joke about for years to come, like when he almost burned down your kitchen making boxed macaroni cheese or when you called him sobbing because of a spider in your bathroom. 

You didn’t think he would throw you under the bus like this.

And maybe that was a bit dramatic, but it felt necessary after Nico left the room with the promise he would message to sort out the details of your plans.

Your issue wasn’t with the fact Jack didn’t want to do it. If that was the case, you would have understood. Your nagging and begging was mostly just a bit of friendly banter, and you thought he was reciprocating. 

He was reciprocating. 

But then, instead of being a normal human and telling you he didn’t want to do it so you could find someone else to help you, he just threw a solution at you. 

An—in the kindest way you could put it—unwanted solution.

It wasn’t that you hated or even disliked Nico Hischier. Not at all. Your relationship with the captain was just…non-existent, in a sense. Very superficial, if you were being honest.

When you were new to the team, you didn’t really talk all that much to any of the players. Jack was the exception, someone who was just as lost as you—though his extroverted personality hid it far better. But weeks passed and slowly you began to see some of the players beyond friendly acquaintances. 

But Nico just…never really left that label. 

It wasn’t like he was rude or mean to you, quite the opposite. Even though he was the captain to only the team, that caring and kind personality extended to everyone who worked for the Devils—you included. 

He was a good guy. He was sweet and thoughtful and loyal and kind. He cared more than any person should. He was the kind of person people write in books and movies. 

And it was intimidating, in a weird way. 

There was no logical explanation for it. But something about Nico Hischier felt too perfect for your shit show of a life. He was confident and put together and everything you weren’t. 

Jack knew that. Jack knew how you felt. Jack had laughed about it more than once before reassuring you that there was more to Nico than you realised. 

You just wish you could’ve discovered that side of him during a team night out rather than at your friend’s wedding out of state. 

And because Nico was the perfect guy, it was no surprise when he messaged you that the two of you could take his car down to Charleston, South Carolina with him taking the first shift. 

“I thought you’d be sick of being on the road,” you said to him as you stood outside your apartment complex, bags in hand as you walked towards where Nico had parked his car. 

“It’s a part of me now,” he joked as he reached for your bags, not giving you a chance to say anything before he placed them in the back with his own. “I go crazy if I’m not locked in a moving vehicle for more than three hours.” 

You snorted, turning your face away so he didn’t catch the way your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the noise. 

“I’ve also never been to Charleston,” Nico continued, shrugging his shoulders. “Thought it would be a nice chance to take it all in if we drive.” 

“I really don’t mind driving the whole way,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you eyed his car. “You’re already doing me a favour, the least I could do is—”

“It’s a long drive, I wouldn’t want you getting tired behind the wheel,” Nico said, his brows furrowed together. “It’s fine. I promise.” 

“Okay,” you relented and took your spot in the passenger seat for the first stint of the drive. 

…

It was around two hours in when the small talk shifted into something deeper. 

“So, what’s the deal??”

You glanced over at the boy in the driver seat, your lips still wrapped around the straw of your slushie you bought at the last service station. Nico had gaped at you being able to drink something so sweet and cold so early in the morning, but you just grinned and shrugged. You didn’t get much of a chance to say anything before he was paying for it anyways, along with the coffee he got for himself. 

Sensing your confusion, he continued. 

“With the date,” he said, risking a glance at you before his eyes returned to the road. “You just seemed…”

“Desperate?” You supplied.

His lips twitched. “I was going to say insistent,” he corrected. “But yeah, desperate works too. Is it really such a bad thing if you go to your friend’s wedding alone?” 

“Well,” you started, still hesitant to say your thoughts out loud when you knew it sounded immature. “Not really. Lucy wouldn’t care if I brought a cactus with me, she would just be happy I was there for her big day.”

Nico huffed out a laugh. “So, why am I here instead of a cactus?” 

“I’m not a big fan of pricks,” you joked and, to your credit, he did smile. But the look he shot you told you that deflecting wasn’t going to get you very far. “My ex will be there.”

Nico didn’t say anything for a few moments. “And you’re…still in love with him?”

“What? No!” You quickly shook your head, your face scrunched up in a grimace. “God, no. Not at all. Never again.”

“Oh,” Nico murmured, though there was still a look of confusion on his face. “What’s the big deal if he’s there then?”

“Our breakup was…messy,” you confessed, wincing a little as the memories you tried to block out returned like an unwanted slap to the face. “It was ages ago and I’m over it. But the last time I saw a lot of these people was just before the breakup and I just wasn’t in a good place.” 

Nico didn’t say anything, letting you continue. 

“He cheated on me.” you said eventually because there didn’t seem like much point in beating around the bush, especially when Nico was helping you out despite being thrown into the deep-end unwillingly. “It got messy within the friend group and I ended up moving away after we broke up to get a fresh start. Not just because of him, but it was nice to get away from all the mess and drama.” 

“So you came to New Jersey,” Nico finished. 

“So I came to New Jersey,” you confirmed with a nod.

“And having a boyfriend when you see these people will…” he trailed off, his brows furrowed together once again. It was the same expression you saw on his face during games, when he was trying to work out plays in his head before they happened.

“I was originally planning to come myself,” you admitted to the boy. “But then I was on the phone with Lucy and she kept asking if I’d be okay with everything and I just imagined everyone asking me the same thing and,” you paused and shrugged. “I just ended up blurting out that I was using my plus one.”

When you turned to look at Nico, you were surprised to find a sympathetic smile on the boy’s face. 

“If you showed up alone, nobody would’ve thought you moved on. But if you came with someone, people would believe you were actually okay,” Nico finished for you, and it should have been unsettling how well he understood. But his empathy and insight were one of the many traits that made him captain.

“It sounds stupid but I just wanted to come here and enjoy my friend’s wedding,” you said with a dry laugh. “The pitying looks were bad enough the first time around, I don’t need them again.”

Nico hummed, nodding his head. “So, what’s our story?” 

You turned to him, frowning. “What?”

“Our story,” he repeated, a kind smile on his face that made your chest feel tight. “You know, like how we got together. Surely people will ask, no? We should have a plan.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “Can’t keep away from the strategies, can you?”

Nico laughed, smiling. “Guess you can’t take the captain out of the man or whatever the saying is.”

You snorted, shaking your head before you settled back in your seat. You thought about his point for a few moments, contemplating your options. 

“I don’t think we have to overcomplicate it,” Nico said, interrupting your thoughts. “You have that look on your face that says you’re scheming.”

You raised your brows. “How do you know that?”

“It’s the same look on your face you get when you plan a prank with Jack,” he responded, smiling a little wider at your shocked look. “Neither of you are subtle. Or quiet.”

“I was just trying to think of an interesting story,” you defended, narrowing your eyes at the boy. “We can’t just have a basic co-workers to lovers situation, that’s boring.”

Nico laughed. “Boring?”

“Yeah!” You laughed back. “We have the chance to make up the craziest love story ever, why not take it?” 

Nico shook his head. “What do you suggest then?”

“A puck was flying at your head and I saved you,” you joked. “Full on spidey sense moment, just caught the puck with my bare hands and you were lovestruck after that.”

The full belly laugh Nico let out made your smile widen. “Caught the puck?” 

“Bare hands,” you nodded. 

“I am sure everyone will believe that,” he teased.

“You clearly haven’t seen me in the net,” you mused. “I have insane reflexes.”

“I’ll let the team know the next time we need a goalie,” Nico retorted. 

In the end, you decided to go the ‘boring’ route. It felt safer to stick with almost-truths, it prevented any possible slip up if the two of you were interrogated separately. And, much to your surprise, there was something quite fun about fabricating a fake relationship with the captain you barely knew. 

…

You arrived in Charleston, South Carolina just after seven o’clock.

The address Lucy had given you was for a massive house by the beach she was renting out for the week. It was gorgeous, over three storeys high and looking like it had been plucked straight out of a postcard. The beach house was slightly secluded as well, far enough from the closest neighbours for all the main wedding party to park their cars outside with no bother.

It felt a little surreal. 

You didn’t even get a chance to step out of the car before the front door swung open and Lucy came running out, squealing as she opened her arms and wrapped them around you. Your chest tightened at the closeness, at seeing one of your closest friends in person after so long of being apart. 

“You’re here!” She exclaimed as she pulled back, her bright eyes finding yours with an understanding shining in them. She missed you as much as you missed her.

“And you’re getting married!” You retorted, watching as her grin—somehow—widened. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Lucy murmured before she brought you into another hug. And you let yourself sink into the embrace, to forget everything else until your friend let out an intrigued hum. “And I’m guessing this is your plus one?” 

Your eyes widened a little when you remembered Nico standing a few feet behind you and quickly pulled back, glancing back at him before turning to Lucy. Something deep in your stomach twisted at the idea of lying to your friend but there was no going back now. 

“Nico, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is Nico,” you said as you gestured between each other, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “My boyfriend.” 

Lucy’s shock was clear. “Boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend! You just made it seem like your plus one was a friend over the phone!”

You gave her a shaky smile. “Surprise?” 

Nico, seeming to somehow pick up on the way the guilt was starting to take over you, stepped in and offered his hand to your friend. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And congratulations on the wedding. It’s an honour to be here, even just as a plus one.” 

Lucy’s brows raised in surprise, her eyes briefly finding yours as she shook his hand.. “Wow, you are a…gentleman.” 

“I guess I upgraded,” you joked, wincing a little when you saw her face scrunch up in guilt. 

“Are you sure it’s not weird that he’s here? I know Tom wanted him here but—” But you didn’t give her a chance to continue as you shook her head, reaching out to grab her hand and squeeze softly. 

“It’s fine, Luce, I promise,” you said, though you weren’t totally sure if she believed you or not. In an attempt to solidify your point, you turned back to glance at Nico with a smile. “I’ve moved on. I’m happy. And I want to be here with you to celebrate your wedding. It probably won’t even be that awkward, it’s been years since everything happened.”

Lucy nibbled on her lower lip. “You’re sure?” 

“Positive,” you nodded.

“Okay,” she said before smiling. “Well, I’ll let you two settle into your room. You’re on the top floor but I can get Tom out to help with your bags. Let me go get him!”

You didn’t get a chance to say anything before Lucy ran back inside but you were hit with a sudden realisation that had you turning to face Nico, an apologetic look painted on your face.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, your cheeks warming as he gave you an inquisitive look. “She asked if I only wanted one room and I said yes because I thought I’d be with Jack and it wouldn’t be that bad, but I forgot to tell her it’s changed. We don’t have to stay here! We can get a hotel nearby or—”

“Hey,” Nico stepped forward, his hands placed on your shoulders to ground you for a moment before you started pacing. “Take a deep breath.”

You let out a shaky breath in response. 

“It’s fine,” he told you, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice. “It would have been weird if we were in separate rooms anyways.”

“I can take the floor,” you suggested.

Nico shot you a look. “I’m not letting you do that.”

“But—” 

Nico’s look hardened. 

“Fine. No floor,” you grumbled before you flashed him a sheepish smile. “I really am sorry though. I feel like you have just been thrown into this whole thing and—”

“I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to be here,” Nico assured you, squeezing your shoulders before nodding towards the house. “C’mon, we should go inside and freshen up. Then you can tell me everything I need to know, starting with who Tom is and if we like him.”

And that was enough to make you snort, momentarily ignoring the problem of the one bed for now. 

…

You didn’t bump into your ex until later that night.

In retrospect, you should have expected to see him sooner rather than later, but a stupid part of you was still in denial about having to spend the week with him living under the same roof as you. Another part of you was also hoping he just wouldn’t show up, that he would bail on the whole event or maybe even just show up on the day of the wedding. 

But you knew that would have never been the case. Because as close as you were with Lucy was just as close he was to Tom, Lucy’s future husband. In fact, Lucy and Tom had met because of you two, because of the fusion of your friendship groups which now just felt like the biggest joke ever. 

At least someone benefited out of the relationship.

You weren’t even expecting some big confrontation or horrendous outcome when you expected to bump into your ex. You were just expecting to be a little more prepared, to have time to put yourself together. You knew you would see him at dinner that night, that much was inevitable. But you thought you could at least have the upper hand by walking into the room, hand in hand with Nico. 

What you weren’t expecting was to see him for the first time in years when you were waiting by the stairs for Nico (since being the gentleman he was, he had let you go refresh in the bathroom first). 

“Look what the cat dragged in!”

You hated the way your body instantly tensed up at the sound of his voice. You hated the way he was smiling at you like the last time you spoke he hadn’t shattered your whole world. You hated the way you felt so caught off-guard, so unprepared for a meeting you were expecting to have the upper hand in. 

“Jackson,” you managed to grit out as you gave him a strained smile. “Nice to see you again.” Lie. Lie. Lie.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, huh?” He said, so lighthearted and casual and dismissive. 

You had to bite your tongue when the urge to say something a little more snarky came up, but you would hate yourself if you created a scene. You were doing this for Lucy. You were here to celebrate a momentous moment in your friend’s life. You weren’t here to get petty revenge on something that happened years ago—at least not in the form of bitter remarks. 

“A couple of years or so,” you answered with a shrug of your shoulders. 

“I was surprised when Lucy said you were coming,” Jackson told you.

You frowned. “Why would that be a surprise? She’s one of my best friends.”

“Yeah but,” Jackson waved his hand like that explained everything. “You haven’t visited since you left.” 

And the underlying words went unspoken. 

You haven’t visited since everything that happened between us. You haven’t visited since you had your heart broken. You haven’t visited so people just assumed you were still hurt and inconsolable after we broke up. I thought that was why you never came back.

“My job keeps me busy,” you stated simply, swallowing the acidic taste in the back of your throat. “Lucy knows that.” 

Something quite like amusement shone in his eyes. “Ah yeah, Tom mentioned something about you working in some ice rink in New Jersey. That sounds super busy.”

You bit your tongue. He was goading you again. You knew that. But fuck, you just wished you could have—

“I would hardly call The Rock just some ice rink,” a voice spoke from behind you and you turned to find Nico settling into the spot next to you, his face remaining very…neutral. 

Jackson stared at the boy, his lips agape as recognition clearly hit him. He blinked and then turned to you. “You work for the Devils?”

“Last time I checked,” you said, a twinge of satisfaction sparking inside you at his disbelief. 

He puffed his chest out a little. “When Lucy said you were bringing a plus one, I didn’t think she meant a co-worker—”

“She didn’t,” Nico interrupted, a look on his face that reminded you of his post-game interviews after the team lost. Before he continued, he wrapped an arm around your waist, making sure the boy saw the movement. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Jackson repeated. 

“Yes, that is a word Americans still use, no?” Nico retorted. 

“Of course, man,” Jackson said with a laugh, but it felt forced and strained. He tore his eyes away from Nico to look back at you. “Well, I should be heading back. I’ll see you two down there.” 

He didn’t wait before he turned around, heading down the stairs to the dining room where the rest of the wedding party were probably starting their dinner. A few moments passed between the two of you before Nico finally broke the silence. 

“So, that was your ex,” he said.

You snorted before you winced. “I was blinded by young love.”

Nico laughed at that. “I didn’t realise blondes were your type,” he admitted, something different in his voice that he couldn’t quite work out.

You rolled your eyes before you sighed. “They usually aren’t, to be honest. But Jackson was…Jackson.”

Nico seemed oddly pleased with the response. 

“And he’s a hockey fan?” He questioned, his brows furrowing together like Jackson was a rival team’s game strategy he had to study. “He knew who I was.”

A slow grin spread across your face. “His family are from New York.”

Nico raised his brows before he laughed. “Islanders or Rangers?”

“Rangers,” you said with a proud look on your face. 

“That’s why you originally asked Jack,” Nico mused. “You wanted to rub it in that little more.”

“You bet them in the playoffs, I just thought he would like a nice reminder,” you retorted with an innocent look.

He laughed—that full belly laugh once again—before shaking his head in amusement. Before you could say anything more, he was intertwining your hands together and starting to make his way down the stairs Jackson had disappeared down a few minutes ago.

“C’mon, they are probably waiting for us,” he said. 

And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull your hand away. 

…

Dinner was uneventful, though you did enjoy watching Jackson bitterly stew from the other side of the table. 

A sense of familiarity and nostalgia washed over you as you sat at the dinner table, enjoying a meal as you laughed and chatted to a group you once saw daily but now hadn’t properly seen in years. It felt so easy to slip into old dynamics, to laugh at old jokes and tease each other as Lucy and Tom were the first to take such a monumental step from the lot of you.

Nico fit in so well, it almost made your chest feel tight if you thought about it too hard. He didn’t seem to mind the countless questions thrown at him about his job and the team. If anything, you thought he was milking his answers a little just to see Jackson squirm—especially when asked about playoffs. 

Eventually the day-long drive finally caught up with the two of you and you wished everyone goodbye before returning to your room on the top floor. Despite trying to play the gentleman card again, you allowed Nico to go to the bathroom first and tried not to stare too hard when he came out in a tight shirt and flannel pyjama bottoms. 

It took an embarrassing few minutes to hype yourself up in the bathroom mirror before you finally headed back to the room, only to pause at the doorway when you saw Nico lying on the ground by the bed with a pillow under his head and blanket over his body.

“What are you doing?”

Nico frowned a little. “Uh, sleeping?” 

“Why are you on the floor?”

His confusion growed. “Because that’s where I’m sleeping?”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Nico,” you sighed as you shook your head, walking into the room until you paused by his feet. “You’ll fuck up your back. Let me take the floor.”

Nico smiled softly. “My back will be fine. Take the bed, schatz.” 

You ignored the way the nickname made your stomach flutter. “I’m not the one who needs to stay in good shape for hockey, captain. The fans will murder me if you can’t play because you have a stiff back. Now take the bed.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Would you have made Jack take the bed?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly before wincing. “Well, I probably would have shared the bed with him.”

“You would?”

“Yeah, like a sleepover,” you said with a shrug. 

“Then we can do that.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“We can share the bed like a sleepover,” Nico said as he stood up, failing to hide his groan as he stretched his back (and ignoring your pointed look). “We’re friends, right?”

You swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Then we can share,” Nico said simply. “Either you take the bed alone or we share. It’s your choice.”

“We may be friends but I am also doing this because the fans scare me and I don’t want to know what they would do to be if I broke their captain’s back,” you said with a pointed look before you climbed into the bed, ignoring the way your heart was thumping as he settled on the other side.

Nico huffed out a laugh. “I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

You rolled onto your side to look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “You better not move to the floor when I fall asleep, Hischier.”

Much to his dismay, he blushed at your words. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I know.”

You let out a sigh, allowing yourself to stare at the boy for a little while longer before you rolled over to fall asleep.

“Thank you for helping me,” you whispered.

Nico’s soft smile returned. “It’s what friends do.”

“Goodnight, Nico.”

“Goodnight, schatz.”

…

It took a solid thirty seconds after you woke up to realise you were practically lying on top of Nico Hischier.

As your body started to wake up, you realised how warm and comfortable you were. You snuggled further into your pillow, into the warmth and hoped your body would just fall asleep for a little longer. 

It took longer than it should have to remember that pillows weren’t warm before you opened your eyes and found yourself settled on Nico, your legs tangled together and one of his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. 

You didn’t give yourself a chance to live out a waking nightmare and risk waiting for him to wake up in the next ten seconds, so you pulled yourself away from him and then hid in the bathroom for fifteen minutes freaking out.

By the time you came out, Nico was awake and sat up against the headboard. His hair was ruffled and dishevelled, his eyes still hooded and a sleepy smile on his lips that made you want to turn on your heels and have another bathroom freakout. 

Instead, you smiled back and told him the two of you had to be outside in the next hour for the brunch Lucy had planned before both wedding parties went off to do their last fittings. 

Thankfully, no more bathroom freakouts were required. 

The brunch Lucy had set up looked like something straight out of a Pinterest aesthetic board. It was set in the house’s back porch with a stunning view of the beach and morning sun beating down on the sea. The table was set with plates of pastries, fruits and other brunch dishes, all topped with the morning mimosas Lucy demanded was a part of the experience.

Nico barely gave you a chance to settle down in your seat before his hand reached for the leg of your chair, dragging you closer to him until his arm could settle along the back of your chair comfortably. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jackson watching the two of you. Nico had noticed too.

If anything, it just made him smirk. 

One by one, everyone had made their way from their rooms to settle down at the brunch table like you all had done the night before. However, unlike yesterday, you noted an empty seat next to Jackon that hadn’t been beside him last night. 

Before you could even ask, a high-pitched voice shrilled from inside.

“I’m here! I’m here! I promise I’m not late.”

You turned to look at Lucy, your eyes widening in response but your friend only mouthed an apology before she turned to the door just in time for a redhead to wander out onto the porch. 

“Bryce! Happy to finally have you here!” 

You watched the two of them hug but your whole body had locked up, an unwanted flurry of memories washing over you. And just like that, it felt like another situation in which you should have been prepared for but didn’t get the chance to. Another rug pulled from under your feet. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You could feel him lean closer, hear the concern in his voice. And yet, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the redhead talking to Lucy a few feet away.

You knew. You knew Jackson had a plus one, it was the whole fucking reason you showed up with one of your own because you didn’t want to look like the loser who hadn’t moved on. You had been warned that he was bringing someone else. 

You just never assumed it would be her.

“That’s the girl my ex cheated on me with,” you managed to mumble under your breath to Nico, managed to finally turn your head to look at him. 

His expression was some mix of surprise and anger and, honestly, you would have laughed at the seriousness on his face if it weren’t for the fact you felt the exact same. You didn’t care about your ex and you had moved on, but it was still a bitter sting to know he was still with the woman he cheated on you with all those years ago.

You tried to relax your shoulders and act as unaffected as you could as Bryce rounded the table to take the seat next to Jackson—the seat across from you. But any hopes of the brunch going as smoothly as the dinner yesterday went out the window when her eyes landed on you.

“Oh my god,” Bryce let out a laugh and smiled at you, a smile you were sure was meant to be friendly but just made your skin prickle. “I didn’t know you would be here! Luce didn’t tell me.”

Luce. That was your nickname for her, not Bryce’s.

“I guess we are both surprised then,” you replied with a strained smile.

Nico couldn't help but snort, not even trying to hide his reaction.

Her eyes snapped over to him, calculating. “And this must be your plus one. Your friend?” 

“Boyfriend, actually,” you corrected.

“Hm, how sweet.” 

You still felt on edge as the brunch continued. Nico’s arm around the back of your seat was a comfort but it didn’t help the fact Bryce’s gaze on you felt like daggers against your skin. You ignored both her and Jackson for the most part, listening to the stories exchanged amongst the group and Lucy raving about the final dress fitting later that day. It was easy to zone out until the conversation seemed to focus back onto you and the boy by your side.

“So,” Lucy grinned as she glanced between you and Nico. “What’s the story? How did you meet? When did it happen? I want details, I can’t believe you’ve been holding back on me!”

You flashed her an apologetic look. “You were busy with the wedding, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Well, you can tell me now,” she retorted with a wink. 

“It’s really not that interesting,” you said, shifting in your seat when you felt everyone’s eyes on you. As much as you joked about having an insane love story, the idea of even saying the boring one right now with everyone’s attention directed on you made your skin prickle with discomfort.

But even if everyone else was oblivious, Nico wasn’t. 

“To her, maybe,” he spoke up and everyone’s focus shifted to him, even your own. But he was used to this. He was used to many eyes on him and attention directed towards him. “I still get teased about it by the boys.” 

Lucy’s smile softened. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Nico laughed, his eyes briefly looking at you before his gaze returned to your friend. “I had a huge crush on her when she joined the team. Like, embarrassingly huge. Jack used to tease me all the time on how I seemed to forget how to speak English around her.”

Your stomach dipped and, for a quick second, you almost believed him with everyone else.

“She always did play a little hard to get,” Jackson mused and something visibly changed in Nico’s expression. 

“And she was worth every second of it,” Nico retorted, the same camera-approved smile he gave the journalists during interviews. “Unlike some people though, I have no plan to lose her.”

Jackson clenched his jaw. 

“How long have you been together then?” Bryce jumped in, her narrowed gaze glancing between you both.

“A few months,” you and Nico replied at the same time.

Bryce’s eyes gleamed. “And how long is a few months?” 

“Six,” Nico answered simply before he turned to smile at you. “Best six months of my life.”

Your face warmed in response. “He’s a little cheesy.” 

“You mean romantic,” Lucy teased, but there was something approving in her expression. It warmed your heart a little at the idea that she would have approved of Nico if he really was your boyfriend. “She isn’t used to that.”

Jackson stiffened. 

Nico’s grin widened and before you could even realise what he was doing, he was taking your hand in his and placing a kiss along your knuckles. “I’m honoured to be the one to spoil her, then.”

Thankfully, Jackson and Bryce didn’t say much for the rest of the meal.

…

You felt like you were in an odd routine over the next few days, but you found that you actually quite enjoyed it. 

The wedding frenzy was in full effect but there was something grounding about having Nico by your side for it all. 

Every morning, you woke up first and found yourself tangled in bed with the boy. It also meant the bathroom freakouts had become a part of your routine, but it was worth it to wake up and enjoy the warmth of Nico Hischier’s hold for a few minutes. You two would end up lounging in your shared room, just trying to fully wake up before Lucy dragged you into last minute wedding nonsense. 

But even at night, you found yourself settled into a routine with the boy. He would go first to the bathroom and you’d go second, and then the two of you would be settled against the headboard, rambling away until one of you yawned and the other one turned the lights off for the night.

It almost made you laugh that there was ever a time you were intimidated by the captain—even when that time was just last week.

And yet, for the first time since you arrived in Charleston, there was nothing for you to do. The rehearsal dinner was tomorrow, the wedding was the following day and it was like you were facing the calm before the storm took over your lives. And it was the first time you could all enjoy the beach without a deadline looking over your head.

“C’mon, it will be fun!” 

Lucy snorted. “For you, maybe.” 

Tom grinned down at his future wife, lightly tugging on her hand but she remained sat on the deck chair. “It’s just a friendly game of soccer. Boys versus girls. Come on.”

“Football,” Nico corrected under his breath, making you snort.

“That is hardly fair,” Lucy argued. “You’ll have a professional athlete on your side!”

“Nico is a hockey player!” Tom retorted.

“Same thing,” Lucy waved off and Nico’s expression was enough for you to snort again. “Fine, we play but with mixed teams.”

Tom contemplated for a moment before agreeing. “Deal.”

“And I get Nico on my team,” she added, watching in delight as her fiance gaped.

“But—” He paused, lifting his head to find your gaze. “You’re on my team then.”

“She’s my best friend!” 

“You took the athlete, I get your best friend. That’s the deal.”

“Do we get a choice in this?” Nico murmured to you and you just laughed, shaking your head.

After more arguing and bickering and negotiating between the future married couple, the teams had been decided. Goals had been marked in the sand, a ball had been acquired and the game began. It was stupid and harmless and it was meant as nothing more than a little fun. 

But Tom and Lucy were more competitive than they let on. And it certainly didn’t help the fact Jackson seemed to have it out for your boyfriend before the match even began.

“Think you can handle tackling your boyfriend?” Jackson asked you. 

“I don’t think it concerns you how well I handle him,” you retorted, feeling the weight of Nico’s gaze on you from across the makeshift pitch like a comfort.

“He doesn't seem like your type,” Jackson continued, always sticking close enough so he could keep talking.

“My type is none of your business,” you stated bluntly.

“I mean, a jock? Really?” Jackson shrugged. “Just didn’t think you went for the airhead.”

You snorted, unable to help yourself. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing when I considered what I saw in you.”

He huffed. “You—”

“Don’t want to continue this conversation, Jackson,” you shot him a look. “I’m happy with Nico. I don’t care what you have to say about it. I’m here for Lucy, not you. Don’t get it twisted.” 

“You’ll never have what we had with Nico,” he said. 

“One can only hope.”

…

You were stupid to think Nico wouldn’t be competitive in a friendly game. He was a professional athlete. It was literally written in his DNA.

And honestly? You felt bad for anyone who played against the Devils because you couldn’t imagine how intense Nico was to play against in a proper game when this was how seriously he was taking a stupid football match that meant nothing.

“NEXT GOAL WINS THE GAME!”

The group had been playing for the last hour, the game was tied and you knew that you would have to head back into the house for lunch soon. But neither team wanted to leave the game until there was a clear winner.

Any semblance of friendliness went out the window as the last leg of the game continued. You weren’t too bothered, more than happy to watch Tom and Lucy mostly fight over the ball and constantly try to tackle each other. 

But your stomach dipped a little when you saw Lucy kick the ball back to Nico. And the feeling only got worse when you saw Jackson making a beeline towards the boy, determined to tackle it out of his hold. Before you even knew it, you and the rest of the party were watching the two boys race down the makeshift pitch.

However, no matter how hard he tried, Jackson could never match Nico’s speed. 

You watched as he kicked the ball, right through the makeshift goal that had been created in the sand. The group broke out into a mix of groans and cheers alike, people clapping and whooping as Nico ran back towards you with a massive grin on his face. 

You barely had a chance to react before he was right in front of you, crouching down enough for his arms to wrap around your thighs before he hoisted you over his shoulders. 

“Nico!” You let out a noise mixed between a scream and laugh.

“We won, baby!” He cheered and your cheeks burned at the nickname. 

Your hands tried to hold onto him for balance but a part of you knew he would never drop you. You patted his back and Nico seemed to catch the hint as he slowly dropped your back to the ground, though his arms remained wrapped around you to keep you close.

“You won,” you corrected. “We are on different teams, remember?”

Nico shrugged. “My win is your win.” 

You snorted. “That was cheesy.” 

“Didn’t like it?” He teased, and your cheeks burned warmer. 

“You make it work,” you admitted, the band around your chest tightening when you saw his face brighten at your words. 

“Yeah?” 

For a moment, you forgot that you were surrounded by people. For a moment, it was just you and Nico stood on this beach, smiling and laughing and alone. For a moment, you could have sworn his eyes dipped down to your mouth. For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you.

A big part of you wished he did. 

“C’MON, LOVEBIRDS! LUNCH IS READY!”

You blinked, tearing your eyes away from the boy right in front of you and instead turned to look at the others. Some of the group were already making their way back to the house, but a few lingered on the beach. Lucy was grinning at you like a madman with Tom looking equally as happy. However, it was hard to focus on them when Jackson stood a few feet away, glaring at you and Nico.

You cleared your throat, hoping your smile seemed normal as you turned to Nico. “Ready for lunch?”

“Hm,” Nico hummed, looking like he wanted to say more but ultimately just nodding. “Yeah, I’m starving.”

“Scoring the winning goal really does knock you on your ass, huh?” You joked.

Nico just laughed, throwing his arm around you before the two of you began to make your way back to the house. “Running in sand is much harder than skating.” 

“Didn’t stop you from achieving the win.”

“I’m a winner, baby,” Nico grinned. “I don’t like losing.”

…

The football game had sucked the energy out of most of the group, so it was no surprise everyone started to head to bed before the clock had even reached ten.

You were dragging your feet as you followed Nico to your shared room, doing everything in your ability to stay awake as he went into the bathroom first. Every one of your moves felt lethargic and sluggish and you wanted nothing more than to curl up under the duvet to sleep forever.

It was like a cruel joke from the universe that the second your head hit the pillow, you couldn’t fall asleep. And it took a solid ten minutes of twisting and turning before Nico spoke up.

“Are you okay?”

You froze before letting out a heavy sigh, settled on your back as you stared blankly into the dark room. “Just can’t sleep.” There was a pause. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“I wasn’t asleep yet.” he assured you before he shuffled in his spot until he was facing you, even if he couldn’t really see you in the dark. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Your lips twitched upwards and maybe it was the exhaustion, but you couldn’t even stop yourself from letting out a laugh that echoed through the room.

Nico let out a noise of amusement. “What?” 

You shook your head, feeling oddly giddy as you spoke. “Nothing, it’s just,” you paused for a few seconds. “I just remembered Jack telling me how the team joked that you took on the role of the therapist before you became captain. That after bad games, you went out of your way to ask them how they were doing and being the shoulder they needed to cry on.”

Nico frowned a little. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” you answered as you turned to look at him, imagining the features on his face even if you couldn’t see him. “It’s just funny that I knew what you were like this whole time but still…it took me experiencing you to realise how stupid I was.” 

His confusion grew. “Stupid for what?”

“For thinking you were scary,” you admitted in a whisper.

Nico didn’t say anything before he let out a laugh. “You thought I was scary?” 

“Well, not scary,” you corrected, but you couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Just…intimidating.” 

“Is that why you never spoke to me?”

“I spoke to you,” you argued.

“Hardly,” Nico mused. “I don’t think we had a proper conversation until you had almost been with the team for a year. I had to ask Jack if I had done something to piss you off because you seemed to get on with everyone else but me.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise. “You asked Jack?”

“I wanted to apologise if I had done something I didn’t realise upset you,” he confessed, and something in your chest tightened at the thought.

“Oh god,” you murmured, letting out a groan as you raised your hands to cover your face. “Now I feel like even more of a dick.”

Nico huffed out a laugh before he reached over, his palm warm and comforting as it rested on your arm. “It’s fine. We are friends now, right?”

You sighed. “Yeah but—”

“Hey, don’t feel too bad about it, okay? We were both being stupid,” Nico’s words washed over you, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles on your skin. “And without that, you could have been here with Jack or someone else instead and I would have missed out on a pretty fun week.”

“You’re having fun?”

“Of course I am. I’m here with you,” he murmured, voice thick and full of sincerity. It made your heart race in your chest to the point you almost swore he could hear it. “Plus, it’s pretty funny seeing how pathetic your ex-boyfriend is.”

You snorted. “Not my finest decision in life.”

“As much as I wish you never experienced that kind of pain, I’m glad it happened,” Nico whispered, his hand lightly squeezing your arm. “It meant you moved to New Jersey. It meant that I—that the whole team got to meet you.”

Your cheeks burned but you smiled, even if he couldn’t see it. You placed a hand over his and squeezed back. “I’m glad I met you too. All of you.”

“Bet you wouldn’t have had this heart-to-heart with Jack, huh?”

You let out a breathless laugh. “No, he probably would have fallen asleep before I even left the bathroom.”

Nico laughed but didn’t disagree. 

You don’t remember exactly at what point you fell asleep that night, but you spent a little longer in his arms the next morning. 

It was a risk but you had lost time to make up for with Nico Hischier, even if it meant making up those moments tangled in bed with him.

…

The rehearsal dinner was where everything really hit you.

It had been running smoothly, though you expected nothing less from Lucy. You knew she probably had the day planned down to the minute, and even if the plan deviated, she would have five back up plans that were ready to go. It was just the kind of person she was.

It was held outside on the beach, the slowly setting sun casting the skies orange and pink over the venue. The tables were set to perfection, the fairy lights decorated across the borders and you had truly never seen anyone happier than Lucy and Tom in that moment. Your heart soared at the idea of the two most deserving people finding the happiness they earned.

It was gorgeous. It was perfect. It was the last fucking time and place you should have been hit with the fact that you were maybe, kinda, most definitely falling in love with Nico Hischier.

Lucy had just wanted a calm, laid back rehearsal dinner. The wedding party was just meant to practise walking in and out, before eventually sitting down to enjoy the nice meal set for the occasion. It was nothing intense, nothing high-stress or extreme. 

It was meant to be fine.

And it was, all things considered. Everything ran smoothly, everyone stood where they were meant to stand and there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s head that the wedding itself would run smoothly. 

But it didn’t feel fine in your head. 

You had taken your place in the line of bridesmaids, waiting for your cue to start walking down the makeshift aisle. You had stepped out right on beat, you kept your gaze forward, you stood on your marked spot and then you turned to wait for Lucy to make her way down the aisle. 

Except your eyes shifted away from the bride and found Nico’s gaze. 

He should have turned his head to look at the approaching bride-to-be like everyone else was. He should have been watching the ceremony, enjoying the love shared between the happy couple you were all here to celebrate. He should have been looking the other way.

But he was looking at you. 

He was looking at you with a soft smile—one that only widened the second he realised you were looking right back. The skin around his eyes crinkled with his smile, his chain was peeking out the open collar shirt and the soft breeze was making strands of his hair flutter down onto his forehead and—

Fuck. 

You were falling for Nico Hischier. 

The realisation hit you hard and fast, it almost felt like you were winded by the thought. It was a small blessing that everyone was focused on Lucy, that they were far too preoccupied to watch the way you stumbled slightly in your spot at the weight of your sudden realisation. 

Well, everyone except Nico.

He frowned a little, a crease forming between the brows and you could see the concern in his eyes even with the large distance between you. You could see the way he tilted his head slightly, the silent question hanging between you as you just flashed him a small smile and nodded your head. 

You had to tear your eyes away from him before your lungs caved in or your heart burst out of your chest. You had to force yourself to remember to smile and focus on the rehearsal dinner. You had to force yourself to remain normal.

Because he was Nico Hischier. 

He was captain of the New Jersey Devils. He was your colleague. He was your newly-made friend. He was here doing a favour after Jack practically threw him in the deep-end. He wasn’t here to witness your sudden and mind-boggling realisations. 

So, when the dinner was starting to be served and he found your side again, you didn’t hesitate to lie through your teeth. 

“I’m okay,” you told him, a kind smile on your face that you hoped was believable. “Trust me, Nico, I’m fine. Just got a little dizzy, must have low blood sugar or something.” 

Because you were here for your friend’s wedding. And he was here to help you out. 

There was no place for your newfound feelings.

…

To absolutely nobody’s shock, the wedding went through without a single hitch.

The ceremony ran through smoothly with pretty vows and sweet kisses exchanged between the newly married couple. As the reception rolled around, speeches were given, laughs were shared and dinner was served as the guests all enjoyed the union of Lucy and Tom and their love. 

It was sweet. It was perfect. It was everything your best friend deserved for her wedding.

It didn’t take long after the dinner for the first dance to commence, a soft smile in place as you watched Tom and Lucy softly sway to their chosen song. They looked lost in their own world, so caught up in each other like they forgot everyone else existed. 

A pang of longing hit you but you shoved it away. 

It was somewhere between your third and fourth glass of wine when Lucy found you, dragging you towards the dance floor with some halfhearted rambles about wanting to get pictures of all the bridesmaids and groomsmen dancing before you all got shit-faced drunk.

It was your unfortunate luck that the photographer paired you with Jackson before you had the chance to disagree, to escape the way Bryce was glaring at you like you had chosen him.

“She isn’t you.” 

You tried to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, to try and focus on something other than his hands on your waist. You thought you could zone out and that maybe the song would pass quickly, but the universe had other plans for you.

“It’s not like how it was when I was with you,” Jackson continued. 

“What do you genuinely think this conversation is going to achieve?” You asked him, gaining the courage to lift your head to look him in the eyes. You kept your voice down to avoid attention, to avoid creating a scene. “We’re done. We were done years ago when you chose to throw our relationship down the drain. I’ve moved on, you should too.”

Jackson shot you a look. “Tell me you haven’t felt it this week. Tell me you don’t feel the pull—”

“I don’t,” you stated bluntly. “And I have no interest in what you’ve felt this week. I don’t care.”

He frowned. “Because of your lil’ hockey player?”

“Little isn’t the word I’d use to describe him but no,” you answered honestly. “Not because of him but because of you. You ruined things, Jackson, and I moved on with my life. Accept that.” 

Jackon’s frown only deepend. He opened his mouth and you could only imagine what he was going to say, could only imagine what bullshit he was about to pull out of his ass. But before he got the chance, a firm hand landed on his shoulder to halt his movements. 

“Mind if I cut in?” 

Jackson glanced over his shoulder to see Nico standing there, smiling like nothing was wrong, like he wouldn’t happily put Jackson in his place if he disagreed. And maybe your words got through to him or maybe Jackson accepted it was not worth arguing with a man over fifty pounds heavier and four inches taller than him. 

He turned to look at you, saying nothing as his jaw clenched in response before he wandered off. 

Nico hardly wasted any time in taking up Jackson’s spot, one arm wound around your waist and tugging you close whilst the other intertwined with your hand. He looked down at you, eyes full of concern, fondness and something else as he noted how tense you were.

“You okay?” His voice soft and quiet but, fuck, it was exactly what you needed to hear. “He didn’t say anything, right? Because I can—”

“I handled it,” you assured him with a soft smile, squeezing his hand to punctuate your point. “But thank you for being my knight in shining armour.”

“Selfishly, I wanted to do it the second the dance started,” Nico admitted, and if he hadn’t been drinking all night, you would have assumed the pink flush to his cheeks was a blush. “I mean, you’re my date after all. Surely first pick dancing rights go to me, no?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “First pick in the draft, now in dancing…you’re quite the man, Hischier.”

“I’m consistent,” he retorted, tugging you that little bit closer until you had the excuse to rest your head against his chest. 

And for a moment, with your cheek pressed against his shirt and his presence engulfing, you let yourself pretend this moment would last forever. You let yourself enjoy the last day Nico Hischier would pretend to be your boyfriend and imagined a world where it wasn’t really pretend at all.

…

Lucy wasn’t happy that you had to leave early the next morning, but she understood that both of you had to return to New Jersey.

It was dreadfully early—far too fucking early with how late you stayed up the night before—to start an eleven hour road trip, but Nico had just smiled and told you to nap the first few hours whilst he drove the first stint of the journey. 

You knew he was right, that you should have rested and gotten a little sleep but you couldn’t bring yourself to stay asleep for long. You felt like you were wasting time, you were wasting precious hours in this little bubble you had created with Nico that would burst by the time you both returned to Newark. 

So, you did what every normal and sane person did and stocked up on coffee and energy drinks at the next service station stop to keep you fuelled through the drive.

It was no different to the drive down to Charleston except for a shift in the energy. It was easier, in a sense. On the way down, Nico was essentially a glorified stranger to you that you had only shared a number of conversations with. But it felt different now, it felt like you actually knew the boy in the seat beside you. 

And it was bittersweet in that sense, too.

Because you loved this. You loved how easy it was to talk to him. You loved how you got to see the side of Nico Hischier that enamoured the fans, the team and the league. You loved that you got your own special version of him in the last week. And you didn’t want to lose that, you didn’t know if you would ever see this version of Nico again once you reached New Jersey. 

And as the hours passed and the closer you reached your destination, it felt like Nico realised the same. The car was tense and thick with tension, one that went unspoken but reeked of longing and the desire to cling onto the bubble the two of you created over the last week.

It was there, lingering and stewing and, yet, neither of you said anything about it once you reached your apartment complex.

“Thank you,” you said for what felt like the millionth time that weekend, but it was necessary. It had to be said. It meant so much more.

Thank you for coming with me this weekend. Thank you for backing me up. Thank you for being a good friend. Thank you for showing me who you really are even if it’s going to fuck with my head for the rest of my life. Thank you for being you.

“Any time,” he said, the words just as heavy as yours. You wish you knew what he meant by them. “Do you need help with your bags? I can—”

“I’ve got them,” you assured him.

His brows furrowed together. “Are you sure? I—”

“I’m sure,” you said, clearing your throat and finding the courage to finally look at him. You pushed away the stupidest and strangest urge to cry. “Well, see you on Monday then?”

Nico frowned a little but nodded. “See you Monday.”

It felt harsh being so blunt, so straightforward and direct. But you knew you needed to get out of that car as quickly as you could. Because you had spent the last week with Nico by your side the whole time, basked in the warmth of him as a person, and you knew all it would take was a few more moments alone with him for you to blurt out something stupid.

You knew you needed to get out of there and just be alone. To lock yourself in your apartment over the next twenty-four hours before you had to return to work, to attempt to wrap your head around the flurry of emotions bursting inside of you. You knew you needed to get behind that door before you had the urge to run back down to his car.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look back at his car, to see if he drove off, as you reached the door of your apartment complex. You forced yourself to keep your gaze ahead, to put one foot in front of the other until you reached your apartment. You felt your body moving on autopilot as you unlocked the door, stepped inside and dumped the bags you had dragged up. 

And then, the overwhelming realisation and memories of the last few days washed over you. 

Fuck. You were in love with him. You were properly in love with him. You were going to have to go into work on Monday and see him there and pretend everything is normal. You are going to have to pretend for the rest of your life or until your feelings go away. You were going to—

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

You paused, the heel of your palm pressed to the centre of your chest as you tried to regulate your breaths. You had half the mind to ignore the knocks, to hope the person on the other side of the door just left you alone so you could curl up onto your couch with a fluffy blanket and a tub of ice cream.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

But you had a nagging feeling this person wouldn’t leave.

You avoided the mirror in your hallway as you headed back towards your front door, twisting the handle and pulling the door back with the full expectation of seeing one of your neighbours on the other side. 

Instead, it was a panting and breathless Nico.

“Nico?”

“I can’t pretend anymore,” he blurted out, beyond the point of caring whether he was too blunt or straightforward. “I can’t pretend because I have spent the last few years pretending and I’m tired of it.”

Your brows furrowed together. “What are you—”

“I wasn’t lying when I told your friends,” Nico continued, his eyes never leaving yours. It was almost like he was afraid to look away. It was like he was scared you would disappear if he did, or he would lose the confidence he had to say what he had been feeling since he first saw you. “I had the biggest crush on you when you joined the team years ago.”

Your lips parted in surprise, but no words came out. No words were needed as Nico continued.

“And Jack knew. Everyone fucking knew how I felt about you,” he admitted with a laugh, one that was a little dry and self-depricating. “They knew how I felt about you before you even spoke to me. And then Jack saw the opportunity and he tried to help me but it just made everything worse.”

Your heart twisted at his words.

“Because it showed me what life would be like if I was actually yours,” Nico whispered, voice cracking and emotions raw. “It showed me what it would be like for you to hold my hand and call me your boyfriend and introduce me to your friends like I’m this huge part of your life. And now it fucking sucks that it’s not true, that it’s over. And I can’t just keep going on in life and seeing you at work on Monday and acting like I’m still okay with pretending—”

You kissed him.

He was standing at your doorstep confessing a million different things at once, confessing things that had your head spinning and your brain racing to catch up with. But he was standing there and he felt the same way and you just couldn’t help yourself but to grab his face and kiss him.

Nico sunk into the kiss like it was what his body was made for, like an instinctive reaction to grip your hips and pull you closer. Your arms slowly wound around his neck, tugging him down to deepen the kiss as every racing thought in your head stopped and there was just him, him, him.

“I don’t want to pretend either,” you murmured against his lips because you genuinely didn’t have it within you to pull away properly, to put any more distance between you.

You could feel him smile against your lips. “No?”

“No,” you swallowed harshly as you lightly nudged his nose with your own. “I don’t want to go back to the way everything was before the wedding. I don’t want you to become a stranger in my life.”

“Never, schatz,” he murmured softly before leaning down to press his lips against yours again, slow and purposeful. 

You let him slowly lead you back into your apartment, listened to the way he kicked the door shut with his boot as he led you towards the coach in your living room. You could feel his smile against your own as you fell back onto the cushions, his body a comfortable and familiar weight on you as memories of your mornings together flashed through your mind.

“Oh god.”

Nico pulled back, holding his weight on his elbows as he looked down at you with a frown. “What?”

“Jack is going to be so fucking smug,” you grumbled, playfully groaning whilst the boy on top of you just laughed. 

“You’re something else,” Nico murmured with a grin.

You raised your brows. “Good something?” 

“Best something,” Nico corrected before he leaned down to kiss you again. 

.

[moonheecore]

Lover Boy — lhs (m)

Pairing: Boyfriend! Heeseung X Afab! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞 (Minors DNI), college AU, established relationship.

Warnings: Soft Dom! Heeseung, protected sex, consumption of alcohol lots of praising (fem receiving), multiple orgasm, oral (male & female receiving), love making because Heeseung is whipped for you, teasing, cowgirl, dirty talking, Heeseung is both a frat boy and a basketball player which is lethal to the heart, overuse of the word pretty and baby, feat other 01 boy group members, hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else. 

Summary: Lee Heeseung, your sweet boyfriend that you have wrapped around your finger. His favoritism towards you didn't escape the notice of his close friends, leading to a well-known moniker they often used when the girlfriend privilege was evident— Lover boy.

Main masterlist

Word count: 5.1k

The atmosphere, combined with the chilly night air, provided a comforting feel. Amid the ongoing frat party, you and a bunch of your circle of friends sought solace on the mansion's back patio, where a warm bonfire painted the scene orange.

You registered the soft sound of your boyfriend’s laughter in the air, watching him and Jeongin joked around with a very drunken Beomgyu across from you. The said male was playing the acoustic guitar carelessly until a visibly annoyed Jaehyuk took the instrument away from the semi-conscious guy.

Lee Heeseung.

The fraternity president, the star and ace player of the school's basketball team, the heartthrob of every girl on campus— and your incredibly attractive boyfriend.

When you said he was effortlessly hot, you meant every word.

He sat there, clad in his usual outfit of a simple black t-shirt and a pair of ripped dark blue jeans, his soft faded purple hair tucked under one of his many collection of beanies. You observed how his dangling earring swayed with each flash of his pearly white teeth, a response to the antics his friends were pulling.

Your eyes trailed to the item hung around his neck, a delicate necklace that he never forgot to pull out of his shirt—your initials carved in silver, proudly displayed for everyone to see.

You felt a bit embarrassed when you gifted him the accessory at first, but you had never seen Heeseung’s doe eyes filled with mellow tenderness as he kept fidgeting the letter with a small smile.

Since then, you’ve never seen him take it off.

A sense of endearment bloomed every time you saw it around his neck. He wore it to his basketball practice, in the shower, to bed— everywhere.

Even in those intimate moments, it dangled above you, the delicate chain brushing against your lips as he thrust into your sopping wet core, fucking you wholeheartedly against the bed sheets; or when you would entangle your fingers between the cold chains, the grip providing the perfect leverage as you ride his cock, the symphony of his encouraging moans blending with the creaking of the bed frame.

You felt almost comical at how shaken you were by a piece of jewelry.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Yunjin's voice cut through your distracted thoughts.

You turned your head to face her, obviously startled. "What?"

Yunjin scoffed, taking a sip from her red cup. "If you don't stop eye-fucking your boyfriend, I might puke on you."

“I was not!”

Yunjin raised an eyebrow at your answer, clearly unimpressed. You closed your mouth in silent embarrassment, hugging Heeseung's jacket around your body tighter. The waft of his cologne gave you a piece of mind.

You sighed in defeat, "—okay, fine, maybe I was, alright. Is that a crime now?” Yunjin's expression softened, and she nudged you playfully, finding your annoyed yet adorable expression to be one that lit amusement.

“Well, I guess you're in some kind of luck, girl. He is looking right back at you."

You blinked, surprised, and turned to see Heeseung gazing back at you with a fond smile across the bonfire. The orange hue from the flame seemed to accentuate the way his eyes lowered down before locking onto yours again, as if he was drinking in the sight of you. He raised his eyebrows enticingly, patting his lap like a signal for you to join him.

A blush crept onto your cheeks.

"You're having too much fun with this," you remarked, getting up from your seat as Yunjin's playful laughter filled the air as you left.

God, you hate it when she has then upper hand. But you hate it even more when you feel like a giddy middle schooler while heading towards your boyfriend.

His gaze stayed fixed on you throughout, leaning back on his seat to create a comfortable space for you to settle on his lap, both legs elegantly positioned on one side. You feel his hands immediately on your body— one securing your back, while the other gently on your bare knee.

Heeseung was so warm that you instantly melt in his embrace, resting the side of your head against his shoulder. You fought against every instinct, refraining from burying your face in his neck. It was as if the lingering scent of his sweet cologne on the jacket he gave you at the party's start wasn't sufficient to satisfy the yearning within you.

"Are you cold?" He asked, already taking a blanket to drape over your exposed legs. You stared at his side profile, letting out a soft hum at his attentiveness. He glanced down at you, only to find you already staring back.

Gosh, you could drown yourself in his eyes.

"Hi," He whispered, as if having you in his arms was the most casual thing.

"Hi," You breathed out shyly, wrapping your arms around his neck to shorten the distance between your faces.

The both of you struggled to contain your laughter at the exchange. The noise of your friends and the crackling bonfire seemed to fade away as you locked eyes with each other.

“You look really cute tonight.” You blurt out, feeling his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your knee under the covers.

He raised his eyebrow in feigned offence. “Cute?”

There was a mischievous glint in his expression, and it was impossible to ignore as he leaned down to boldly fix his gaze on your lips.

"Not hot?" he questioned, your breath hitching as his fingers traced up your legs, ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. It made your heart race, especially considering he was doing it discreetly with people still around.

"Or sexy?”

You bit down on your lower lip, trying to contain the small moan coming out when he cups your clothed cunt. Heeseung observed every scrunch of your face, feeling your fingers tugging at the hairs on his nape and the way you pressed your thighs together, curling inwards towards his body.

Heeseung wished he could tease you even more, relishing in your adorable reactions. However, he could feel himself getting worked up too, forcing him to whisper against your ear.

“Let’s go to my room, yeah?”

You nodded quietly against his shoulder. He shifted to grab the blanket and laid it on the empty chair, prompting you to stand up and fix your skirt, which had ridden up during his little ministration.

"Hey," Heeseung called out to Jeongin, intertwining his big hands with yours. "We're heading inside."

"What! Already?" Beomgyu's slurred words cut through the conversation, loud enough for others to hear. "Come on! The party's just about to get started!"

Heeseung looked visibly annoyed as his friend draped an arm around his shoulder. Clearly under the influence of alcohol, he glanced over Heeseung’s shoulder, catching sight of your connected hands and the noticeable flush on your cheeks.

"Ohhh, I see why you're leaving early," Beomgyu said with a massive grin on his face and wiggling his eyebrows.

"Heeseung, you fucking dog! Lover boy getting his dick nice and wet tonight—“

Before Beomgyu could continue, Jeongin smacked his palm over his mouth from behind to stifle the rest of his sentence, holding him in a headlock. He signaled to Heeseung to go and shot you an apologetic look as well.

But the damage was done, and you shyly lowered your head as Heeseung pulled you away where people were whistling and howling in your direction as you past by.

"God, I was about to sacrifice him in the fire if he didn't stop yapping."

You giggled as he grumbled under his breath, reaching the steps of the patio. He opened the back door, ushering you inside the house where the party showed no signs of slowing down even in the wee hours of the night.

The thumping bass of the music reached your ears as you walked down the hallway, navigating through drunken students flowing between the dancefloor in the living room and the kitchen stocked with an abundance of alcohol.

The tight space between the sweaty figures made you feel claustrophobic, but the reassuring touch of Heeseung's fingers laced with yours and your other hand holding onto the belt loops of his pants kept you from getting lost in the sea of crowds.

Heeseung has always made his strong presence felt by you.

He always ensured you walked on the side away from the road, poured and guarded your red cup when you were away, stayed sober to drive you home, rested his hands at the back pocket of your pants when you walk together or when he would wait for you patiently outside of the restroom when you felt unwell.

His favoritism towards you didn't escape the notice of his close friends, leading to a well-known moniker they often used when the girlfriend privilege was evident—

Lover boy.

Your lover boy, the man who was pinning you against the door of his bedroom, one hand on your waist and the other cupping your jawline, kissing your lips deeply the moment he locked the doors.

You opened your mouth slightly, allowing his hot tongue to explore the cavern of your mouth. The intensity made you tangle your fingers in his soft hair, eliciting light moans and groans from both of you that he gladly swallowed down.

You weren't sure if you were tipsy from the alcohol or his taste because you started to feel fuzzy in the head.

“Is my hair in the way?” He questioned, sounding a little out of breath once he broke the kiss.

He rest his forehead against yours, the bridge of your noses grazing each other at the proximity. You chuckled softly, pushing back the lone strands of his hair that escaped when you pulled his beanie off.

“Yeah, a little bit.”

You licked his bottom lip sensually, mesmerized by the way it glistened with saliva. Heeseung bent down to capture your lips again swiftly, his heart going wild with what you did, circling your waist to pull you flush against his body.

You weren't going to lie; you felt out of breath, getting lost in the rhythm of his mouth moving hungrily. But you didn't want to stop, going insane with the way his hands were slowly smoothing down your body.

"You look beautiful in this skirt," he murmured, pressing a kiss at the corner of your lips before switching to your jawline and down your neck.

“I wore it just for you…” You admitted, sighing softly when he nib and suck at the sensitive spot of your neck, holding his hair tighter when he moved to knead the back of your thighs.

"Is that why it's so short?"

You felt him smirk against your neck, letting out a sudden gasp when his hands moved under your skirt to grope an ample amount of your bare ass.

"Hmm? Planning to seduce me with your slutty ass out for everyone to see.”

Now your cheeks were on fire.

It was rendering you speechless, with only the ability to weakly shake your head. You couldn't bring yourself to make eye contact with Heeseung as he looked back to gauge your reaction. Doing so would likely leave you feeling weak in the knees.

Heeseung could only smile at your cute reaction, especially when you tried your best to hold back your moans but failed.

“Naughty girl, but I guess it work, right?" Heeseung drove his point home when he took one of your hands, gently guiding you to palm his semi-hard cock through his pants.

He let out a shaky sigh when you knead firmly along his thick length. "Feel how hard I am for you, baby. Only you can make me feel like this."

Heeseung let out small whiny moans as his head fell to rest on your shoulder, bucking his hips shamelessly in your hand as his cock grew heavy, a tight dent forming at the front of his pants.

You felt the familiar pooling of wetness gathering, both at the base of your tongue and between your thighs.

“Seungie,” You call out, pulling on the bands of his pants shyly with half lidded eyes and swollen lips courtesy of him. “Can I suck you off, please?”

Holy shit, he could get a cardiac arrest with the way you said it with so much lust.

"I’d love that," he grinned, leading you to his bed as he sat at the edge, pulling his shirt off to exposed his ripped body.

You promptly went on your knees between his legs, causing him to caress his thumb over your cheek as you fiddled with his buttons and zipper before pulling his pants and boxers down, swiftly releasing him from the tight confinement.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his beautiful cock lying hard against his abs, the head already aching and red with pre-cum leaking at the tip. The sight of his tight balls entice you even more, leading you to kiss them first before sucking gently on the flesh.

"So eager, baby." He cooed, using one hand to lean back on the mattress while the other rest on the crown of your head. "Just like that pretty girl, fuck—"

He rasped out a loud moan when you licked a long stripe up along his length before swiftly engulfing his head in your mouth. Heeseung felt absolutely winded at the sight of you stuffing your cheeks full of his cock, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn't get in the way of the sight.

You started to bob your head, smoothly pumping his length in and out past your lips. You jerk his remaining length expertly while your other hand fondle with his balls.

"So pretty like this, taking me so well. Bet you've been thinking about fucking your mouth in my big cock the whole night, right, baby?" He smiled down at you.

You were so drunk with his taste that you could only hum in response, swirling your tongue around his tip before dipping it into his slit. Heeseung instinctively tug your hair, pulling your face closer until your nose was touching his pelvis as you tried to accommodate him beyond your usual capacity.

You knew his most sensitive spot— slurping on his bulbous head while you slid your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock as much as possible.

"Ah god, fuck, baby, that's it." He whines, thrusting into your mouth, pushing his cock until it hits the back of your throat repeatedly. Your jaws were aching, but you fight the urge to gag by hollowing your cheeks, letting him use your mouth free to his will.

You didn't care that drool was spilling at the corner of your mouth or that the corners of your eyes were starting to sting with tears. Heeseung was at the mere edge of his release and your clit was throbbing to even think about him spilling his seed into your mouth.

"Y/N, fuck—“ You could hear the rawness of desperation in his voice, chest heaving. The hand gripping on the back of your head turned rough as he sloppily pistons his hips forward that almost make you choke.

"Gonna cum in your mouth, baby girl. Gonna fill you up nice and good down your throat until all you taste is me."

And you’ll gladly let him, feeling his head twitch a few times against the roof of your mouth before he release the tension in his shoulder, lurching forward and swearing loudly as ropes of his white cum coat your entire oral region.

Despite feeling light-headed, you continue riding him of his orgasm as you swallow down his hot load and lick him clean. In fact, it made Heeseung shudder in pure pleasure, wiping down your smudge eye linear with a gleeful expression.

"Sorry, are you okay? I seriously couldn’t hold back…”

He sheepishly apologized, smoothing down your tousled hair as you rested your head against his thigh.

"...and I came a lot." He mumbled, and you giggled at the way he turned bashful when just a second ago, he was rolling his eyes while shoving his shaft down your throat.

“It’s fine.” You reassured him. Heeseung wanted to plunge himself into your mouth again when your wipe the excess cum at the corner of your lips, licking it without a second thought.

"You taste absolutely delicious."

You began to kiss the dips of his v-line, holding onto his thighs as you move to tongue at his navel. You could feel his stomach tense up as you lick the valley of his abs, trailing up and standing on your feet to reach his neck and jaw before settling on kissing his lips.

You circled your hands around his neck firmly, thumb pressing on the prominent swell of his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t you think a good girl like me deserves to be rewarded?” You look at him with those dreamy eyes he can’t refuse, or maybe that was just the afterglow of sucking his cock that makes you look irresistible under the bedroom lights.

Heeseung's hands slipped under your shirt, gently tracing your waist, sending shivers down your spine.

“Maybe if she strips down for me I’ll consider.” He purred, doe eyes darken with lust. "Get naked for me, baby, and I promise to make you feel incredible."

If the arousal trickling down your thighs wasn't a clear sign of your longing, the fact that you promptly followed his command under his hungry gaze certainly speaks volumes.

"Fucking beautiful," he whispered as you peeled off your bra, licking his bottom lip as he watched your breasts bounce free. Now, you were left in only your skimpy panties.

"The most prettiest girl in the world." He lament, pulling you closer and situating you between his legs, your exposed breasts now right in front of his face. Your tits were hardening as he firmly grasped one of them.

"—and I get to have you all to myself."

You instantly crumbled when he captures a nipple between his pouty lips, suckling on the hard nub until you feel the pressure on your skin. His other hand toyed with the other perky breast, kneading it and ensuring it received the same attention as he pinched it between his fingers.

"Feels so good, seungie..." You moaned out, your fingers found purchase in his hair again as you arch your back when he switch to engulf the other nipple with moist kisses.

"Fuck...love it when you use your tongue on me." You were shaking your head, body trembling when he kept nibbling and lapping at your sensitive nipples, coating them with his thick saliva.

"I know, baby." He gazes up at you with a knowing expression, leaving bite marks on the swell of your breast. "Think you can handle it if I eat your pretty little pussy?"

Fuck, no, you don’t think so.

To many people on the outside, he has the sweetest pair of lips, always complementing and giving you lovey-dovey kisses in public. But behind the scenes, his dirty mouth never stops moving on your body, and you know for a fact that his tongue is the spawn of the devil. It won't end until every drop of your arousal coated his taste buds, and you crying for him to stop.

But you fear you might go insane if the ache between your legs isn't relieved soon, succumbing everything you have to him.

"Yes, please, I need you now." You urged.

Heeseung laugh softly, a big smile plastered on his face.

"C'mere, baby. Get on the bed and lay down for me."

He instructs, standing up and turning you both around so that you're pressed against the bed.

He took a pillow to gently tuck it beneath your head, making sure you were laying down in a comfortable position. You were observing every move he made impatiently, and he took obvious notice of that.

“You look like I’ve already made you cum,” He teased.

Blushing at his words, you watched as he settled to spread your legs open. The sight made his cock twitch, the damp patch of fabric clinging to your folds, outlining the curves of your lips. He could already imagining how swollen and soak you were, and he haven't even properly touch you yet.

"You're so wet, baby," He praised, peeling your panties from your pussy. "Are you sure you haven't cum yet?"

You shake your head, spreading your knees wider for him to tug off your panties from your ankle. "No, I wanted to wait for you."

"Such a good girl."

Heeseung seemed satisfied with your response, especially when he could confirm that you weren't lying. Your pussy was slick with arousal, and your clit looked engorged to the touch. He was sure it was courtesy of you humping the carpet floor when you were on your knees for him.

Heeseung laid on his stomach, hooking his arms behind your thighs. It was like a wet dream, having his head between you legs and feeling the heat radiating from his breath as he drew closer to your bare cunt. You fingers entangled itself in his soft locks when he blew on your sensitive clit.

"Heeseung, please don't tease— ngahhh.”

The words died in your mouth the moment he licked a stripe of your core, as if to test the waters before fully lapping on your wet folds. You lifted your hips, hearing the slurping sounds of his lips smacking around your cunt. His button nose pressed on your clit so deliciously that you hoped the loud noise from the party was drowning the even louder cries of pleasure escaping from your throat.

"yes, yes, fuck, faster." There was the familiar knot blooming in your stomach, the one that was growing the more Heeseung prob the tip of his tongue in and out of your lose slit.

A soft groan emits from him, driven by the way you would roughly scrape your nails on his scalp as you start grinding on his face feverishly. His chin is dripping with drool and your arousal, your sweet scent and taste overwhelming his mind, causing him to quicken his pace and latch his lips onto your clit.

He flattened his tongue on the pearl, flicking it back and forth, face pressed deeply between your thighs until you were a convulsing mess on his bed.

Your abdomen was pulsing erratically, your walls clenching over nothing as you released the torment you had kept. An orgasm washed over you like cold icy water, throwing your head back as Heeseung's tongue continued to coax every bit of your climax until he was satisfied. He was going down on you, making sure to clean every crevice that he might have missed, even when you were weakly whining that it was too much.

He was fucking pussy drunk. There was no other explanation for him literally drinking you up right now.

"You're such a cute mess.” He was peppering your inner thighs with kisses, watching you squirm from the sensitivity every touch on your skin brings. "Always so ready for me to taste."

His sun-kissed skin glowed with sweat, his hair attractively disheveled, while his lips were swollen with a sweet pink hue. He gingerly moved and leaned down to kiss you square on the lips. It was light-hearted, simmering down the intensity of everything that happened before.

He was gentle, holding your jaw tenderly as you both basked in the warmth of your proximity.

"You did so well for me, baby." He bumps his nose against yours. "Think you can keep going?"

It was sweet of him to take note on the exhaustion reigning on your features, but you honestly don’t think the night could be completely over until he fucks your pussy with his cock.

"God, yes,” You nodded, gnawing on your lower lip. "Lemme ride you.”

He wasted no time in positioning himself to sit up, leaning his back on the headboard. You took this as an invitation to sit on his lap as he rummage on his side drawer for a condom.

“Wild berry or bubblegum, what do you think?”

“Heeseung, please just hurry up.”

You snapped, snatching one of the wrappers from his hand.

Heeseung's boyish laughter filled the air, his beautiful smile and his eyes turning a beautiful crescent shape. His silly jokes could never be separated, to the point where you swore he was secretly a masochist for finding joy in seeing you suffer in the most unconventional moments.

You rip the package open with your teeth before rolling it onto his already hard cock that twitches with every friction from your contact. Now, you thought you were the one being needy when he was literally manhandling you to hover over him.

You rest your hand on his broad shoulders. With one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around the base of his cock, he guides the tip to your entrance as you slowly sink down simultaneously.

He rasped out words to encourage you to lower your hips, the loud sounds of both of you moaning in rapture together when he fully bottoms out filled the room.

"Holy shit." Heeseung's head fell to knock on the headboard, his chest going up and down erratically. "You're so fucking tight."

Heeseung's large cock was throbbing inside of you, filling you completely as if he was made for you. The initial discomfort of the stretch slowly fizzled out, and pleasure took over as you craved more of him. You guide his hand to wrap around your waist, moving your hips up and down on his length.

You were absolutely enamored, lifting yourself before sinking back down with a heavy weight, feeling his mushroom tip pressing on the deepest part of your cervix. Your inside were spasming insanely at the hot contact, leaving you to spill a mantras of moans.

You lean back to rest your palms on his thighs, grinding and rolling your hips, hearing the soft creak of the bed as you begin to bounce on his cock sloppily. Heeseung's moaning and panting under his breath, pulling your waist impossibly close when he feels you clench around his girth deliciously.

"You look so hot. What the fuck." Heeseung gasped out, watching your through half lidded eyes.

His view of you was just amazing— your perfect tits bouncing when you slam your hips down at an angle, your wet pussy squeezing him tightly that he could see a white ring of precum collecting at the base of his shaft. Pieces of your hair were stuck to your forehead, your face so fucked out that he could easily cum from this image of you.

"Fuck, Heeseung, touch me."

You alluring voice was like a spell, coaxing him to fondle your breast while his thumb played with your puffy nipples. You continue to overwhelmed him as you move faster, both of his hands slowly glide down to grab your ass cheeks, aiding you to move back and forth on his cock sensually when he notice you slowing down.

"Keep going baby, I love it when you spread your pussy and ride my cock."

You shake your head in desperation, your thighs trembling in exhaustion. "Can't— I can't go on anymore."

You didn't need to say twice, and he was already pulling you to rest on his chest.

"It's okay, baby, I got you." Heeseung holds you by your love handles before he started thrusting up roughly.

It became apparent that both of you were on edge, becoming overly sensitive to each other. Every drag of his cock against your walls throwing both of you into overdrive. While you were holding onto your dear life to stay afloat, Heeseung was becoming addicted to the pleasure, pounding into you until the loud sound of clapping filled the room.

You're not sure anymore whether it was the sound of his thighs or his balls slapping against your ass.

You couldn't focus anymore, not when you were struggling to stay upright as he was balls deep into you. He was so big, so hard that he was practically throbbing against your walls. Not even a second did he slip out, despite the brute speed and strength he was using to rail you repeatedly at your sweet spot.

The burning knot in your stomach was coming back, getting tighter and tighter as he makes a mess in your insides.

"Heeseung." You're voice crack at the end, nails digging at his back. "I— I'm about to fucking cum."

Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you hide your face in his neck, the feeling of his fingers rubbing and pinching on your clit made you clamp harder around him. You chanting his name over and over again only deepen his desire to absolutely ruined you in the best way possible.

"That's it, baby, cum for me." Heeseung nibbled the lobe of your ear, the movement of his hips faltering gradually as he was near his high as well. "I want to see you cum all over my cock like a good girl."

There was a second of pin-drop silence before you slump on his chest, crying and moaning as you feel your second orgasm shaking your body and soul. Heeseung was not far behind you, stuffing your sore slit with one last crash before you could feel his chest vibrate with loud groans, releasing strings of hot semen into the rubber.

The knot in your stomach was untied, losing its overwhelming pressure, and it mixed wonderfully when Heeseung's face morphed into a satisfying glint, his head falling to rest on the headboard.

It feels like a symphony of wonders, the heat of everything blending in from the heavy breathing and the slick dripping down your thighs as Heeseung pull out of you to tie the soiled condom. You close your eyes, ears pressed against his chest as you follow the lullaby of his heartbeat to calm your mind down.

Your hands mindlessly twirl the chains of his necklace, and Heeseung embraces you tighter in his arms. He leans down to place a sweet kiss on your cheeks, pushing back some stray hairs behind your ears. He let out a tender sigh when you snuggle closer, prompting him to trace your back gently with his fingers.

Your legs was sore but you regained your bearings to kiss him, gently humming when you feel him smiling against your lips.

"I love you, Heeseung." You said softly.

He peered down at you, his eyes saying everything without a word as he gave that lovesick expression, admitting that he will forever be—

"I love you too. Always."

—Your lover boy.

@moonheecore All rights reserved. Do not translate or post my works anywhere without permission.

[steddiecameraroll]

ao3 - "Destined to be surrounded by a bunch of geeks"

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Robin. Funko pops are the modern day beanie babies.” Steve shrugs as if he didn’t just compare Eddie’s precious collection to tiny stuffed useless animals from the 90’s.

“How dare you,” Eddie glares at Steve through the corner of his eye, as he gently slides his newest conquest carefully onto his bookshelf.

“Think about it. They’ve been saying they’re going to be worth something in the future. Just like they said about beanie babies. You’re keeping them in their boxes. For what? Resale value?” Steve puts his hand on his hip like the cocky bastard he is.

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

Eddie tries to ignore Steve’s logic. The perfectly reasonable logic.

“You should take one of them out of the box at least. What about this one?” Steve taps the top of Eddie’s Aragorn.

“No,” he replies quickly.

“What about this one? It looks like Mike.”

Steve’s pointing to Frodo. Frodo. Freaking Frodo Baggins. Steve thinks Eddie should take his Frodo out of the box.

Mike?

“Wheeler?”

“Yeah, look at him.” He pulls the box from the shelf and holds it up in front of his face. “Hi Eddie. I’m an ungrateful asshole who stalks around constantly frowning.”

Eddie stares in amused wonder at Steve’s high squeaky imitation of their shared child. How does he have such a violent crush on this goofball?

Steve peeks around the box with a tiny smile, gauging Eddie’s reaction.

“How did I ever think you were cool?” He snatches the box from Steve’s hands and slides it back into its spot on the shelf.

“I’m cool,” he attempts suave and casual by leaning back against Eddie’s desk.

Eddie avoids running his eyes down Steve’s now raised chest, and keeps his gaze focused on the man’s smug face.

“You’re as much of a dork as the rest of us. Can’t deny it now, Harrington. I’ve seen too many dorky handshakes and heard you accurately reference Star Wars. One of us, one of us,” he jokingly chants.

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in a sigh. “No chance for escape now. I guess I’m stuck with you-you all, all of you.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows with a cock of his head. Was that a flub? A misstep? A fumble or Freudian slip?

Hmmm.

“Yeah, you are.” Eddie takes a couple slow steps forward closing in on Steve’s space.

Steve doesn’t move, keeps his arms crossed and his eyes on Eddie’s stalking form.

“You’re fated, big boy. Destined to be surrounded by a bunch of geeks. One or two hot ones,” he playfully tosses his hair over his shoulder. “But a bunch of geeks nonetheless. So that makes you a geek by proximity.”

“I’ll be the second hot one,” Steve bites back a smile and ducks his chin down a little.

“Put us together and we’d be unstoppable.”

Eddie doesn’t know what he’s saying. He’s been flirting with Steve from day one and can’t stop himself now. Steve sets him up constantly and it’s not Eddie’s fault that he always takes the bait. So sue him if he leans into the game they’re always playing.

“There’s a thought,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie’s ears are immediately red because that is a thought. A thought Eddie has had a lot. A thought Eddie had this morning in fact.

“Us teaming up?” Eddie takes the last couple of steps to Steve’s position, sidling up to his right and brushing their shoulders together.

“Something like that,” Steve nudges Eddie with a secret kind of implication.

He can’t mean the same thing Eddie means, right? No. He’s saying something else.

“We’re already coparenting the gaggle of assholes. Us teaming up seems like an easy transition,” Eddie muses.

Teaming up, getting together, making out, fucking like rabbits. Whatever Steve wanted.

Steve doesn’t respond right away and the silence feels like a weighted pause. He tilts his head toward Eddie and lets his eyes dip. Out of nervous instinct, Eddie licks his lips and he actively sees Steve’s pupils widen.

Jesus.

Steve slowly pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, biting across the soft skin until it pops loose, leaving a perfect gap for Eddie to imagine sliding his tongue in between.

Eddie feels caught, trapped, stuck in place. He’s breathing heavier than necessary since they’re standing in place. No need to be huffing so hard at their stationary stances. It’s not like they’re working up a sweat.

But, oh god, they could.

“It-it really does doesn’t it?” Steve sounds a little breathy and it’s doing something to Eddie’s ego.

This doesn’t feel like play flirting.

No.

This feels like real flirting.

“What do you think, Stevie?” Eddie pointedly drops his eyes to Steve’s mouth before continuing. “Should we…? Get together? Take over the world?”

Steve nods silently, a little wobbly and loose, almost like his head is filled with space.

Then before he can make a sound, Steve is pinning Eddie against his desk. Their lips are smashed against each other in an uncoordinated effort of desperation.

And holy shit, does it feel good to be Eddie Munson.

Vecna could take him now and he’d be happy. Scratch that, Vecna can take him in about 35 minutes cause Steve is fumbling with Eddie’s belt.

[dr-qian]

break in pt.2 // m.l

burglar!mark x rich!reader

pt.1 , pt.3

he's never coming back...

you already told yourself that multiple times, but you were still standing on front of your dining room's window, looking around for any signs about mark's arrival.

"honey, what are you looking for?" your mom sweetly called out your name, making you halt your actions.

"oh, nothing, just nothing" you shook your head, but it's not convincing enough for your mom to believe you.

'clearly, there's something going on' your mom thought. but she just doesn't want to bother you more.

her and his husband's jewelries went missing a few nights ago, but it didn't bother them that much since those were actually old and boring to wear now.

they also planned on going on a trip to a another jewelry shop someday to buy more.

"well, just sit down for a while and eat 'cause dinner's ready"

you walked over to a chair with a slumped back, sat down with a defeated sigh, and ate.

he's never coming back...

he already got what he wanted...

you told yourself again, just to make you let go of him already.

meanwhile, mark is back on the streets.

stealing phones and wallets as usual, with his best buddy haechan.

"yo dude, you should get that guy" haechan held onto his left shoulder, came close to his ear and pointed at a middle-aged man in a luxurious white suit, busy typing on his phone as he stands in the middle of a sidewalk.

"why can't you?" mark looked at him and asked.

"'cause i'll be handling that poor old lady right there" haechan pointed at the lonely granny on the other side of the street, waiting for the green light turn into red so she could walk, using their walkers.

"and if i helped them cross the street, she would give me lots of money!" haechan smiled at the thought.

"and if she doesn't?"

"i'll steal their purse" haechan said, as mark shakes his head.

"whatever, i'm on that guy.." mark said before walking towards that middle-aged man.

he ignored haechan's "good luck" behind him as he thinks of a way to rob that guy without being caught.

mark then, stands too close to him, but seems to be unnoticed. he looks around the area, pretending to admire it to avoid suspicions from other bystanders.

his hands slowly reach up to the man's left pocket, the fat wallet with credit cards and cash are coming into his view.

holy shit...

mark cautiously dipped his hand into the man's pocket, his fingers finally coming in contact with the leather texture.

'i got it! i got i--' mark slowly lifts up the wallet until

"MARK!"

"huh?" he muttered as he turned his head around quickly to spot a familiar girl running up to him fastly.

"hey wait! no!" he said, but you already hugged him.

it was you.

---------------------------------------------------

you thought that maybe going around the city with your parents can take your mind off him.

and oh boy, it didn't.

you stilk think about the kiss with him, every now and then.

it's driving you insane.

"do you like to buy something, sweetie?" your mom asked, sat beside your father on the driver's seat, looking at you through the rear-view mirror inside the car as she applies her lipstick on.

"yeah i guess so, i'm planning to get new shoes, my classmates already saw my old ones multiple times" you told them, thinking about the time your other rich classmates made fun of you for wearing the same shoes in school thrice.

"okay! me and your father will just be hanging out at the jewelry shop right there" your mom said, pointing at a jewelry shop you didn't even bother to look at.

they dropped you off to the side, as the car you were just in drives away to another direction.

you strolled around the city, finding some nice shops to shop in, and thinking of mark as well...

hmm, i wonder what he's doing right now

you thought to yourself, until you spotted that oh so familiar black beanie.

you couldn't believe it!

"MARK!" you screamed before running up to him. the people passing by suddenly stopped to look at you until continuing to walk again.

the middle-aged man was nudged a little, so he decided to move away from what's happening.

mark frowned at him leaving, and then looked down at you, still hugging him.

"oh my god, i thought i'll never see you again" you said to him, basking in his warmth.

his hands mindlessly went to hold onto your waist and push you gently, hoping you'll get the signal from him to let you go.

"don't you know i've waited for you for so long to come back?!" you looked up at him with some cute puppy eyes. you hope.

"I..." mark clearly doesn't know what to say as he looked to the side and spotted haechan watching them, sporting a beige purse on his arm with a smirk on his face.

"help me" mark mouthed at haechan, but he just laughed at him.

mark looked down on you.

"uhh, okay, it's nice to see you again too, but i have to go" mark said to you, finally making you let go of him.

"huh? where are you going--" you asked as mark quickly leaves the area. you couldn't find him anymore.

he left you confused and dumbfounded.

AGAIN.

---------------------------------------------------

"so you're telling me, you kissed this girl so you won't get snitched out, and now she's in love with you and stalking you around the city?" haechan says to him, his ass sitting on the poor and abused sofa with his feet propped up against a wooden table as he pulls out the contents of the old lady's purse one-by-one.

they're currently at their secret hideout, haechan's basement.

"yeah, I clearly didn't know what to do next, it was so stupid of me. fuck!" mark says back, pacing back and forth on front of haechan, his hands on his hair.

"well, that's good because you will now be able to get closer to her and her family. they will let you in their mansion, and if you got in, you can steal everything you want and just leave immediately like you were never there" haechan reasons, suddenly pulling out an inhaler from the purse, then throwing it aside.

"what? no way, i would never do that!" mark replies to him, stopping to look at haechan's face in a disgusted way.

"geez, it's just an idea" haechan said, putting his hands up to tell mark to calm down and let it go.

"well, whatever, she's your problem anyway and not mine..." haechan chuckled as he pulled out a bundled cash from the purse counting it immediately, ignoring mark.

mark sighed and plopped down beside haechan, watching him count the money.

"yo, you have to give me a share of tha-" mark says as he feels up his now empty pocket.

wait, huh?

mark quickly checked his pockets to make sure he's not crazy, but he's really not and his wallet totally gone!

it only has $16 in it, plus his old school ID and his family picture that he cherishes.

where could he even dropped or misplaced that.

better yet, who even stole it?

"yo dude, did you take my wallet?" mark nudged haechan's shoulder to ask him.

"i would never steal your empty and ugly-ass looking wallet" haechan stated to him, still looking at the huge money he's holding in his hands, counting it over and over again.

"i'm serious dude!"

"i really didn't!"

if it's not haechan, then...

oh no.

---------------------------------------------------

after mark left you alone again in the city, you were not really disappointed with it.

you were on your bed, kicking your feet up in the air as you look at mark's old school ID and family photo.

oh he looks so damn cute.

you really didn't think mark wouldn't feel you taking his wallet while hugging him.

you laughed at the thought, guess he wasn't the only one with robber skills after all.

'i hope he tries to get his wallet back from me'

[theastrical]

Well hello there, one of my favorite writers. (Ssh don't tell anyone 🙃)

Diluc Kaveh Kaeya Zhongli + An s/o (i prefer fem! reader) who can sing oh so beautifully. More specifically, hum. The way they hum is like no other at all, it's a sad slow and melancholic tune. Like a fallen angel's melody echoing through the human soul.

So they've been distracted doing something else and the men catches them. But their lovely s/o is the shyest sweetheart out there so they just watch quietly in silence. A warmth filling their hearts, despite the coldness of the tune.

I guess you can say I've been caught a few times singing in a uhh depressive way lmao :') sorry this rq is lonngg. Take your own time to write!

melodies and genshin men!

genshin men reaction to their s/o’s lovely melodic humming.

diluc, kaveh, kaeya, zhongli x fem!reader

hurt comfort, fluff

notes: take care of urself and have a time for yourself hihic you deserve it~ <3

diluc’s way of showcasing his endearment:

He caught you off guard when you were planting your favorite flowers at the garden of his house. You loved taking care of the nature that’s for sure, and it seems nature loves you the same, even the birds start to chirp and the flower blooms magnificently with the existence of you in diluc’s eyes.

You were singing a lullaby, a children lullaby. a lullaby that can make you sleep just by hearing it. Diluc thought it was such an opportunity to seek the real you, the you that humms such a melodic tune without caring a single vision scheming into it; surprising you with an embarrassment at this case. Your voice are melancholic, it reminds him of the good old days, making him fell harder, even when some maids gossip around you…telling that your singing voice isn’t exactly like your voice…all shy with a very melancholic sad tune inside the chords of your voice.

So he secretly listens..before holding your shoulder…and hug you behind your waist. “i wonder…what makes my lady so beautiful today..? Her humming or her presence?”. Your blush is obvious and that satisfies diluc who ended up just kissing your cheeks out of adoration. The idea of you being all shy around him makes diluc want to kiss you even further…oh well, maybe soon?

“if you hum that lovely darling…how about you become the bird that wakes me up every morning..?”

kaveh’s way of understanding you:

it was a rough day, perhaps you were just trying way too much to have such an expectancy. The day ended up with failure and loneliness…kaveh isn’t home, he’s still proposing his architecture project to the academia. so you ended up writing down your feelings in your diary while you humm such a tune to closed off those feelings. You were too in depth with the tune and ended up not realising that he had knock on your door…

He had prepared a beautiful bouquet…and after hearing your pleasantly…sad tune, he hides and listen to your tune quietly. Not wanting to be caught; he takes off his shoes and everything just for you not to realise his existence.

Until—he hugged you from the back and it made your whole body tensed up. He whispers near your ear, his chin on your shoulder. “Why the sad tune..? It’s not like your diary is the only one you can make tales to…i’m here waiting for you to talk…”, per-usual, due to how shocked and shy you are from being caught…that one tear fell from your eyes. A giggle escape, although your cheeks are red and your eyes are watery. Yet he even continue to hum alongside you…no need for words, you guys are already in the zone.

Kaeya’s winter season:

You were crocheting kaeya’s pair of socks and his soon-to-be-beanie. He requested it long ago, maybe around 6 weeks before autumn ends, kaeya is a secret fan of your crochets…he loves handcrafts and he adores every creation you make with his whole heart. Today is almost winter, you know that he had ripped off his socks and his beanie was accidentally burn my klee…hence you’re out on your desk for around 9 hours now, just crocheting-crocheting-crocheting.

Out of listening to the music on your earphone, you start to humm a beautiful musical performance, the tune itself is creepy enough as it is, and your voice? It’s exactly like one might call a fallen angel voice. You continued to crochet like you don’t care about anything in this world. Unlike you, getting stuck in your own world is not kaeya’s thing, so he sneak up beside you, sitting down on the bed, while tilting his head, waiting for you to turn your head to him. He giggles. How cute is my little lady..she must be so focused, she forgot her husband has come home…he thought.

Suddenly an ad popped out and you were stressed! Your focus? All gone! Then when you look beside you…”hi” he smiles, like a crazy bastard. You almost scream from the surprise he planned. He helps you stand again even when your face are already so red…you hide your face whilst kaeya giggle, kissing your hand. “weird…everything about you make me all warm and fuzzy…even your lovely little humming are also sweet..”, he kisses your cheeks. “Why hiding it? I thought you wanted me to be happy?”…”then sing further, it’ll made me happier if you do.” He pats your fuming self as He takes your finished crochet.

Zhongli’s favorite orchestra:

zhongli secretly knows that you’ve been humming when he’s “asleep”. Yes, he’s not asleep. And yes he would only expose that he isn’t asleep when he wants to, cause this man doesn’t want you to know that he listens to your humming as if it’s a lullaby that drive him into dream land…it would make you all red and shy for WEEKS, so he refuse to expose it.

You didn’t know about his lies, you didn’t know that he has been pretending for months now. So you kept on humming…while cleaning the box where your used-to-be violin is at. You tried to prepare it all up, you tried to play it away from the bedroom as you hum, not wanting to wake zhongli up. Zhongli tries his best to sleep without your lullaby now…he needs to try it, but it ended up with failure. So when you came back from playing the violin…he was already wide awake, sitting.

you were so embarrassed, has he been hearing you singing and playing..? You never even sing or play your violin in front of your parents so…zhongli seeing it is already a big red “oh no” in her face. Now she’s all shy. Zhongli sighed for a moment before he gently pull you to bed…”sweetheart, sing for me..it’s not like you will die when i hear you…i can’t never let your beautiful “voice all ran out just like that…”, he cups your cheeks. “make me a lullaby that can make me fall harder…also sleep more peacefully my sweet little orchestra.”, he bops your red nose before kissing it sweetly.

Taglist: @esthelily @indarius @n0tamused @sangoqueenkoko @voidlesslove @lyralibra @eroxotckv @rikasurl @dailypenpen @daydreaming-paradies

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's royal fuck-up

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 11

Prompt: Royalty AU

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson; Royal Steve Harrington; Meet cute; Flirting; Secret Identity; Sort of angsty/open ending

"So, tommorow…" Chrissy says from behind the folder they've been provided. It looks so posh with its dark green binding, the royal sigil embossed on it in gold print. Eddie hates it. It probably thinks it's so much better than the other folders. "When you're introduced to Prince Steven, you're to address him as Your Royal Highness. After that, you call him Sir." 

"What, really? Dude, at least buy me dinner before we start with the kinky shit." 

Chrissy shoves his feet off the desk, which almost makes him topple off his chair. 

"Can you take this seriously? A royal visit is an important matter. We can certainly use the publicity-" 

Eddie's hand crashes down on the desk. "I'm a fucking rockstar, Chris. That ain't enough publicity? This place is my baby, mine. What does that royal asshole know about what it's like to have a rough childhood? He thinks he can come here, give a little speech, smile for the cameras, and suddenly it's all about him?" 

"What, now you care?" 

He whirls on her, but the look she gives him makes him freeze. Chrissy sighs. 

"Eds, you are so busy with the new album and the tour, you haven't even met the new volunteers. I said I'd manage the place, and that's fine. But you must trust me. Just do it for me. Please?" 

*

The skate park has new graffiti, and he hasn't even seen it yet. Eddie exhales his cigarette smoke and watches how it curls up to the sign spelling Hellfire Youth Center.

Maybe Chrissy is right. Maybe he should be here more. Maybe he's been so caught up in the whole fame and fortune thing, he's losing sight of what's important, like- 

"Watch out!" 

Like guys on skateboards barrelling towards him. 

Eddie throws up his hands. The guy tries to swerve, completely tips his precarious balance, and goes flying off the board and right into him. They land on the asphalt with an undignified oomph. 

"Shit, sorry," babbles the guy and tries to disentangle his limbs from Eddie’s. "Couldn't brake-" 

"S alright," Eddie hears himself say, even though his ass hurts like a bitch from the impact and he can already feel the bruises forming. "You can fall into my arms any time." 

Skateboard guy blinks up at him and - fuuuck, he's cute! In a scrungly, beanie-stuffed-over-chestnut-locks, black-rimmed-nerd-glasses kind of way. 

For a second, nobody says anything. 

"For fuck’s sake," someone swears, and then little Max Mayfield is running towards them, ginger braids jumping with the movement. "I told you to be careful." 

"Sorry," cutie with the glasses says again. Eddie has never seen him around. He must be one of the new volunteers Chrissy mentioned. "Guess I'll need to practice some mo- ow, shit!" 

His hands fly up to cradle his knee. There's a hole and a rapidly spreading bloodstain in the fabric of his jeans. 

"Oh fuck," Eddie says, and whips his bandana from his back pocket to press it to the wound. "Red, why don't you hop inside and get the first aid kit? I'll stay here with …" 

He trails off expectantly. Cutie's eyes go wide. 

"I, erm … Dustin." 

"I'll stay here with Dustin." 

*

Dustin, it turns out, isn't just cute, but also fun to talk to. He doesn’t gush about what a huge fan he is or ask for an autograph once. Eddie never thought he'd appreciate that one day, but it gets really old really quick. 

Instead, they jump from one topic to the next, sitting on one of the benches and watching Max go on her board. Dustin has a quick, sharp wit and isn't afraid to counter Eddie’s jabs with his own, delightfully bitchy sense of humor. Damn, to think he almost missed this one. He really needs to be around more.

"I love this place, y’know? You created something great for these kids." 

Eddie jerks to attention. The sun has started to dip, casting Dustin’s smile and the hair poking from his beanie in a soft golden light. 

"Thanks man," Eddie murmurs, and feels the bitterness boil back up. "Some people seem to think it needs better publicity, though." 

Dustin shuffles awkwardly, winces when the movement pulls on the Care Bears bandaids Max has plastered all over his knee. 

"You mean the royal visit?"

Eddie huffs. 

"Yeah, man. I mean, what are they expecting me to do, bow and grovel while his Royal Doucheness prances all over the place with his perfect hair and fancy suit and thank him for it? It's not like he cares about these kids, it's all just a gig to him."

Dustin draws his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You can't know that. Maybe he does care. Maybe he's-" 

Eddie barks a laugh. "Oh, give me a break. All the royals are good at is looking important and spending our tax money. I can fucking do without-" 

"Steve? We gotta leave, c'mon." 

They both whip around. A fancy black limousine with tinted windows has pulled up in the parking lot behind them. A gruff looking man is holding the back door open and looking at them expectantly. 

Dustin sighs and stands. 

"Coming, Hop." 

"Wait, wait, what?" Eddie babbles as he walks towards the car, shoulders in a sad little hunch. "What's going on? Who's that guy? Why's he calling you-" 

And then it clicks. 

"Oh fuck," Eddie says. 

Dustin … no, Steve … no, Steven - Crown Prince Steven fucking Harrington - gives him a tight smile while the man ushers him into the backseat. 

"Thank you for your time, Mr Munson, I'll see you tomorrow. I'll try not to be too much of a douchebag, I promise." 

The door clicks shut. 

The car glides away. 

Eddie buries his face in his palms. 

"Jesus fucking Christ. He's the fucking Prince."

Beside him, wheels grate on asphalt as Max brakes.

"Wow," she deadpans. "You're in some deep shit." 

Eddie groans. 

Tomorrow is gonna be a long-ass fucking day. 

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

[zegrasdrysdale]

can we now have a fic when the test says positive? <33

[ plus sign ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) surprises Jamie with a present that will change his life after he gets home from a game

warning(s) : mentions of sex but no actual sex, pregnancy

author’s note : i am really just fueling the baby fever i have had for days at this point. self indulging i guess. anyway, enjoy :) (this isn't a second part to "not our time" btw bc this request came in after i posted that)

༺═──────────────═༻

She noticed the first red flag that morning when she and Jamie were fooling around before he left for his game. He gave her breast a light squeeze and it hurt when it usually feels good. She blamed it on the fact that she was probably about to start her period.

That's when she noticed the unopened box of tampons in the cabinet under the sink when she went to pee after they were done in bed.

Her stomach dropped when she did quick math and realized that she hasn't had her period for nearly two months. She needed to go to the store as soon as possible and get some pregnancy tests.

Which has all led up to (Y/N) sitting on the floor against the door as she waits for the results of the two pregnancy tests on the counter next to the sink. Her phone counts down beside her and the closer the time gets to zero, the bigger the knot grows in her stomach.

Yes, she wants a baby. She loves kids. Every time she sees her nieces and nephews, she can't wait to have her own.

She doesn't want to give Jamie a baby he might not even want right now. He's still trying to prove himself as a top defenseman on the Ducks after injuries have sidelined him for months and he may not want the extra stress of having a child.

They haven't even really talked about having kids because it's been less than a year since they went from a friends-with-benefits thing to an actual relationship. She loves him, but she doesn't want to trap him with something he may not even want or need at the moment.

The alarm on her phone goes off after five minutes. She wanted to give the tests enough time for clear results, just in case.

With a shaky sigh, (Y/N) pushes herself up off the ground. She shuts her eyes and gnaws on her lower lip, unsure of what she wants.

She doesn't know which result she'll be happier with. A lot comes with either result.

If it's positive, their lives are going to change. Even if Jamie doesn't want anything to do with the baby, she won't get rid of it. She can't. She'd feel so guilty.

If it's negative, she'll probably be devastated. Maybe she and Jamie aren't ready for a baby but she'll still love them with everything in her. She's in love with the baby and she doesn't even know if she's actually pregnant yet or not.

To rip the bandage off, she opens her eyes and looks immediately at the tests in front of her as she exhales.

'+' stares her in the face.

Twice. There are four lines between both tests on the counter.

A gasp falls from her lips and her hand flies up to her mouth. Her free hand picks up one of the tests to get a closer look at it.

It's positive. They're both positive. There's no doubt about it with how dark those lines are on those tests.

She's going to have a baby. Tears fill her eyes as soon as the realization hits her and a quiet sob passes her lips. A part of her and Jamie is growing in her belly right now.

Her hand falls down to her belly and rubs it a few times. Her face hurts and she realizes that she has the biggest smile on her lips, and probably has since she saw the result of the test.

Jamie. He doesn't even know that she had all those realizations that prompted her to get tests in the first place. He has no idea that she even bought the tests.

Quickly, she throws on her Ducks jersey and a Ducks hockey beanie. She wasn't going to go to the game because of how bad she felt but she wants Jamie to know as soon as possible. This is a piece of him. They made this baby together.

She throws one of the positive tests in a little gift bag to act like it's a gift before she gets in the Uber she called. (Y/N) doesn't trust herself to drive a car with how badly her hands are shaking.

There is two hours before the game starts so Jamie is probably in the gym with the rest of the guys to get their pregame workout in. All the staff looks at her with a confused look on their face as she makes her way to the team gym.

The security guard stops her from walking in. "Sorry, miss," he says. "No one is allowed in the gym while the team is in there. Can I get someone for you?"

"Can you just tell Jamie Drysdale to meet me in the team lounge area so I can give something to him?" she requests. "If it's not too much trouble. Tell him his girlfriend is looking for him."

He nods and heads into the gym. (Y/N) spins on her heels and heads down the hallway to the team lounge room.

It smells like men in the room. She quickly comes to the conclusion that the family lounge room smells so much better. At least it doesn't smell like twenty plus sweaty men.

She paces for a second before the door opens and a very sweaty Jamie walks into the room. "Baby, hey," Jamie greets her. "What's going on? Is everything okay? You've never interrupted the team workout before."

(Y/N) holds out the little gift bag. "I have something for you," she tells him. "Um, it can't wait or I would've waited until after the game. It'll be worth it, I think."

Hesitantly, Jamie reaches out and takes it. She watches as he pulls it open. She's super nervous about the reaction that Jamie will have as soon as he sees what it's the bag.

At first, he looks confused. Then he reaches into the bag and pulls out the positive test. He squints at it then his eyes widen. He looks up at her and asks, "You're pregnant?"

"Yeah," she breathes out. "After this morning, I went out and bought a few tests because it normally doesn't hurt when you squeeze my boob. Then I realized it's been over two months since I last had a period so-"

She's cut off by Jamie pulling her into his arms and picking her up. "We're going to have a baby," he says. Happiness and excitement is in his voice. He doesn't sound angry or worried. "We're really going to have a baby."

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his neck. He puts her down softly and she looks up at him. "Now you see why it couldn't wait," she comments. "I was really excited to tell you because they're a part of you too."

The happiness on Jamie's very sweaty face brings tears to her eyes. "Oh my God, (Y/N)," Jamie laughs as he cups her jaw. "You don't have to cry. I'm so happy. I'm ecstatic, baby. I can't wait to meet them. I'm going to love the shit out of this baby because they're a part of you."

(Y/N) laughs and Jamie dries the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. "I love you, Jamie," she tells him. "I can't wait to raise this baby with you. You're going to be the best father."

"They better come to every game with you as soon as they come out of you," Jamie says. "I want to brag to all my teammates that I have the cutest baby in the world."

She smiles and hugs Jamie. He wraps his arms around her for a quick second before he sinks down to his knees. He glances up at (Y/N) for a second and whispers to her belly, "Hi in there. This is your daddy. I can't wait to meet you. Your mom is the most amazing woman in the world and she's going to rock at being a mommy."

Her fingers run through his disgustingly sweaty hair. "Can we celebrate when we go home?" she asks. "After you have had a shower because your hair is disgusting, baby."

"Sorry, sorry," he laughs as he gets off his knees. "I'm just excited. I can't wait." There are voices in the hallway, which means the team is done in the gym. "I have to go get ready but I'll see you during the warm ups, right?" He leans down and pecks her lips,

"Absolutely," she replies. "Go score me a goal tonight."

"One for both of you."

༺═──────────────═༻

yourusername

liked by anaheimducks, trevorzegras and 20,392 others

yourusername baby girl drysdale coming in spring 2024 ♡

view all 3,287 comments

masonmctavish23 i'm gonna be an aunt !

tterry19 i don't think that's how that works bud masonmctavish23 oh well

anaheimducks We can't wait to meet baby girl Drysdale!

yourusername <3

trevorzegras oh i am so going to be the uncle that brings your daughter ice cream when you tell me no. that baby is going to be so spoiled

jamie.drysdale going to be the best mama <3

yourusername gonna be the best daddy. baby girl is so lucky to have you as her dad

leocarlssoon looks like there's another rookie joining us this year

nhl Congratulations Jamie and (Y/N)!

frank_vatrano this secret was getting so hard to hold. congratulations tho

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MASTERLIST

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[genderfluid-insomniac]

Fucking Hellstorms /// Lucifer Morningstar x reader

i.e. ... Lucifer comes home during a thunderstorm with all six wings soaking wet and mc dries him off while fluff ensues about attempting to dry all six wings in a small room with a fireplace.

A/N: Yes he can use his magic to dry himself but he hopes you forget that since he wants you to do it yourself since he likes your affectionate touch.

The door to the mansion slammed open with the sound of drops of water dripping onto the wooden floor and the thunder booming outside shook the house. There in all his demonic glory was Lucifer Morningstar completely soaked from head to toe with all six white and red wings dragging across the mudroom into the living room and leaving puddles in his wake. His beloved snake and apple hat stuck to his head like it was a messy beanie instead of a marvelous top hat. You got up from your cozy spot near the roaring fireplace and walked over to your boyfriend, wiping droplets of water clinging to his hair and smoothing it back to its usual style. As much as you could anyway.

He pouted and went to hug you but stopped when he remembered he was soaked, looking to you for help. You stifled a laugh and kissed his cheek. “Why were you even flying to your meeting? You could’ve used your magic.” You said as you got a towel nearby for situations just like this because surprisingly hellstorms were common in the 7 rings due to whenever there was a massive uprise in sinful activity in one particular circle there would be a hellstorm. Carefully drying off his wings first, going up from the bottom pair to the top, and quietly giggling at Lucifer’s shivers or twitches when you reached a sensitive spot.

“Sorry, Luci. It’s not easy to dry off your 6 wings.” You said while he pouted at you and hit you with one of them causing you to laugh heartily. Taking his hand and squeezing it, he sighed and let you continue as he answered your question. “It wasn’t far from here and I haven’t gone out in a while! I had to inform my advisors to let the other sins know about the official news involving the extermination.” He dramatically threw his arms up in the air and slumped down. The white snake coiled top hat slid off his head and onto his face which had just finished drying off. “Guess I didn’t account for the storm.” He sighed before gaining a wide mischievous smile.

One look at his face told you he was up to another one of his silly schemes and you started to back up when your boyfriend ruffled all of his wings, getting you completely wet and all with a wide happy grin on his face. You brought your arms down from your face all annoyed and groaned as you shook your hands down. “Really, Lucifer? Really?” You said and gave him a deadpan expression when he just joyfully smirked back. “Now you have to worry about drying me!” He excitedly proclaimed like he would when announcing one of his newest creations or when he first showed you his best creation Lu Lu World. To his point, it was such a fun day and he even planned another day for the other half of the park.

You couldn’t be mad at him though, he was the sweetest and goofiest person in hell. You never expected it to be Lucifer Morningstar of all people but he always surprised you in the best ways. Right now though you weren’t sure if this “surprise” was going to be a good one and looked up to see the fallen angel completely leaping towards you. He was hugging you tightly, still slightly soaked mind you, and snuggling his head into your neck. You stared up at the ceiling rethinking how you’d gotten into this situation and wrapped your arms around him regardless, kissing his temple and receiving a kiss on your cheek in return. “Wanna cuddle in the fire?” He suggested and then frowned as he corrected himself. “in front of the fire. Yes. Uh. That is what I meant” he said somewhat embarrassed. Yeah, still your goofy duck man.

[toiletwipes]

Whenever I'm Alone (With You) | clinic!wilbur

~4k words. / [It's a festival day in this fine park and you were unknowingly matched up by destiny! Warning! Might get sad towards the end, otherwise a pretty happy, fluffy piece.] hope you enjoy! i definitely wasnt avoiding two other fics by starting this one! might have a part 2!

Disclaimer: this is the Wilbur variant from the Tommy's Clinic for Supervillains fic, inspired by my lunatic daydreamings

Title inspired by Lovesong by The Cure

xxxx

“And you’re not dating anyone?” Seff, your friend, asked you, chewing on kettle corn as you wandered the venue, and you had to roll your eyes and then immediately apologize to a couple you bumped into because you weren’t looking. He could hardly hold his laughter back as you gave him a hard look.

“How is that so hard to believe?” You respond, stealing some of his snack, holding a handful as you look around.

“It’s hard because well- just look at you.” You gave him an unimpressed glance, “any person would be lucky to have you as a date, even luckier as a person.”

“Guess these people have shit luck then.” Shrugging, you end up under the musicians’ tent, the music blaring from well-placed speakers with plenty of chairs set up in front of the slightly elevated stage. And it’s decorated with the cozy environment, lights strung about and over the heads of everyone, flowers arranged in front of the stage and vines wrapped around various speakers. And then there’s the musicians. It's a small band with the drummer, a bassist and the lead singer. It’s a nice vibe for a night like this, a festival of good music and good food, and sometimes, you send Seff a stink-eye, good company. “Come on, let’s have a seat.” You didn’t want to walk all night and if Seff was going to be annoying, you didn’t want to add aching soles to the list.

As you sat down and the band played a few more songs, Seff had little else to say about your dating life and it’s not like he didn’t mean well but- dating does you much good in this life. Because in this life, it’s not just surviving a nine-to-five job and the traffic, it’s about surviving the horrors of having superheroes and vigilantes and supervillains. Seff had a hard time convincing you to come because of how little the heroes or villains are seen around the venue. Despite being on the edge of down-town, the venue was a lovely little heritage park with plenty of trees, plenty of benches and plenty of grass.

Sometimes the grass wasn’t a good thing and for that, you looked stupid, leaning down to scratch at your ankles. Bending over, though, you meet the eyes of a man who turns in his seat to look over his shoulder and it makes you shiver. He’s too fucking pretty to be real and his eyes glide right off of you the moment you move yours off, looking down and scratching till your ankle was red.  But fuck, he was so pretty. Brown hair curling on his head, almost in his eyes with big eyes to match his wide smile, sharp jawline, and, with a quick glance and a mental curse, you could tell he would be a tall man. Wearing a yellow sweatshirt, he matches his jeans with a dark beanie and boots. Not to mention his hands, long fingers gripping the chair and-

Shit.

Breathing in and out, you sit up straight and reach for the kettle corn, “hey!” Seff could choke, for all you care.

After the band plays their last song, the somewhat decent crowd claps and cheers and the lead singer thanks the audience and you and Seff stand up from your seats and as you’re about to head down the aisle to the exit you end up brushing past the pretty man, chests grazing and just barely catching his eyes and apology. Seff curses him out from under his breath but you could hardly breathe, how could a man be so pretty and just be so close?

Once Seff figures out you’re not overstimulated by the rudeness of the action and just his looks alone, he teases you. “Oh, well now you have to talk to him.” He says, wincing as the tattoo artist gives him a flash tattoo.

“I don’t have to do jack-shit,” you flash the bird at him.

“It’s fate, getting so close and then having to part with each other, can you think of anything more romantic? And at a festival like this?” Groaning, you lean back into the lawn chair, covering your face with your hands and pulling at the skin below your eye.

“It was an accident, Seff, please can we move on?” You plead with him as the artist hums and finishes up.

He gives you a side-look, “I mean, what if he’s a cool person and he has lots of money?”

You give a frustrated sigh as Seff gives his new tattoo a lookover, paying her, he gets up and gestures overly dramatic for you to get in the seat. “I’m only getting in this chair because you’re paying her, don’t forget that.”

He slaps your shoulders, somehow avoiding your immediate flapping of hands to get him back, “wouldn’t dream of it, now, how are we feeling about stars, my good friend?”

And it’s not even a few minutes after you decide on a design when she starts and you happen to look away from her handiwork to find big eyes under a mop of brown hair staring at you from across the walkway. Your breath catches in your throat and you want to choke on it and die in that moment but then he turns to- oh, that’s the drummer from the band playing earlier. Oh that’s nice, he went to support a friend. Okay, yeah, he’s just a normal person. Just a normal person you’ll forget at the end of the night. You work on breathing in and out as she continues with her work and Seff is the only that notices your reaction. “If I look, and it’s the pretty boy, I’m telling him you like his butt.”

You quickly hiss at him, “you do that and I’ll throw your ass to the Syndicate, don’t even think about it.” Glancing in the pretty man’s direction, he’s turned away for now. “And if not for the laws of this land, I would run you over, reverse, and run you over again.”

“Okay, okay, I hear you loud and clear, but come on, a second time you’re running into him, don’t you think-” 

“-this park is small, of course I’m gonna run into a couple of people during a fucking festival-” 

“-don’t you think, you should give fate a chance?”

“This isn’t fate.” You tell him, and refuse to dignify anything he had to say after that with a response. Twenty minutes later the tattoo is done, a little red but for the most part, it looks good and you thank the artist profusely as Seff pays for the order. After he pays, the two of you compare your tattoos and grinned at each other. “Now, time to get what I’ve been looking forward to this entire evening.” Seff drapes an arm over your shoulder and you mind your wrist as you do the same, heading towards the food vendors again. The kettle corn had been only enough to satiate Seff for the time being. “My favorite, cotton candy.”

There’d been a long line, getting in it, Seff had the brilliant idea of trying to get you to consider that maybe there was more to play than just people attending the local festival. “What do you have to be afraid of? The worst he could do is say no,” Seff tries saying, but you shake your head.

“Absolutely not, that would not be the worst thing that could happen. Worst thing that could happen is that I trip and die before I get rejected or right after. And then a meteor strikes right on top of me just to put a cherry on top.” You ramble, irrational fear creeping on the back of your hairs as you think about talking to the pretty guy. “All I’m saying is, yes he’s pretty but I have no idea who he is or what he likes, what am I going to do if he says yes and I have to plan a date right then and there? If I say coffee and he says he doesn’t drink it, do you know fast I’d start digging a grave? Pretty fast, I’ll tell you that.” Your eyes are pulled forward as the line moves up and up, the guy in front of you being fairly tall so you don’t think twice about leaning away from Seff and checking the menu. “Like I was saying, I would rather drink spit from the bathroom floor than get rejected. At the festival, no less, where I’m supposed to be stress-free. What happened to that, Seff, I feel pretty stressed right now, I think I might even go home.” Seff sighs as loud as he can before wrapping his hands around your shoulders.

“You need a Xanax or something, I swear, look, we still have the light show and more bands to check out, I’ll even buy you a stuffed animal, and I’ll lay off the pretty boy.”

“Thanks.” And then, for some reason, you hum. “He was really pretty, wasn’t he?”

“He was, with the hair and the-”

“The eyes and his smile-”

“He was so pretty, especially in the yellow sweater, it’s unfair.” You sigh, looking up just in time to see the person ahead of you receive their two items, cotton candy hand in hand as they turn around, in the very same fucking sweater you lamented about, and he smiles with a blush on his face. You would thank your lucky stars if he hadn’t been stuck in line, listening to two strangers arguing about asking him out and ranting about his prettiness. You would say your heart leapt out of your chest and buried itself beneath the grass and dirt under your feet.

“I’m not sure what to say but I appreciate the compliments,” and he nods his head and walks away.

Your mouth dropped open into a gape and as Seff places and receives his snacks, quickly smacks him when he gets out of line. “I hate you, I hate you so much!” Seff has the audacity to laugh into his snacks, snorting even as you resist the urge to bury your whole body into the ground, sure to receive a ticket maybe, for disturbing the peace but still. Don’t they know that the worst thing has happened?

“I’ve changed my mind, this is the worst thing that can happen, so if it's all the same to you, I would like to swim in a toaster bath,” you whisper under a hushed breath, looking over your shoulder and shivering, turning back to Seff as you bite your knuckles, “what if he comes back with a restraining order? Seff, I can’t get a restraining order against me-”

“Okay, okay, let’s go have a seat, you’ll feel better once you do, I promise.” You wanted to bite his head off so hard, but damn it, these things are serious. That must’ve felt so creepy and off-putting and fuck, he probably thinks you’re a freak or a weirdo. And nothing is worse than an unassuming pretty boy assuming you’re a freak-slash-weirdo. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.

Back at the musicians’ tent, you find yourself being lulled to a pacified calm by a new band playing something softer. A sweeter, yet nostalgic tune. The accordion, violin and key-tar working well with each other and with the accompanying piano and drum players. It keeps you under this soft blanket of peace until the band bows, breathing in with the beat Seff taps into your knee. The two of you continued to sit in silence, occasionally Seff would comment something about the bands but it wasn’t until the third band that someone sat next to you and cleared their throat. From the panic to the now somewhat peace you had in your mind, you are startled out of your skin when you find the pretty boy sitting so close, his knees just a few inches away from yours, the beanie adjusted and the look on his face seemed nervous. Oh, please don’t be a restraining order, you mentally chant, forcing yourself to politely smile at him.

“I know eavesdropping on conversations is rude but… would you forgive me if I asked you to walk with me for a little bit? I don’t know this place like the two of you seemed to.” He admits and in the same breath… does he ask you out? No, probably just for directions and since they were so direct and polite and respectful, you get to be killed off in a less-public area.

“I’ll be here, my wife should be coming in soon.” Seff peers around to smile at the stranger. And then he leans in closer, “still have that knife in your pocket that I gave you?” You elbow his side before turning to the pretty boy, flashing a quick, apologetic smile.

“If I die because of him, I’m coming back to haunt you.” You say standing up and shoving his shoulder back.

He gives a shout as you walk away with the stranger, hands tapping your side as you look anywhere but him, slowly walking the paths the festival had set up. “Did you have anywhere in mind, or did you just want to walk around?” You ask, unable to help yourself, looking at the string of lights hung above the wooden posts of the vendors.

“Oh, well,” you finally turn your head to look at him, finding him sheepishly smiling at you and it takes your breath away again, “I just wanted to talk to you alone.” You don’t know whether to be afraid or flustered, though fear was making a run for the money.

“Was there any reason, then, you wanted to talk to me alone?” You ask and that’s when he stops the two of you, underneath the biggest tree in the park, decorated with lamps hanging above and tealights on the ground. You can’t help but see the romantic notions the people have put on this tree and you wonder if the two of you were closer to the first couple or the last couple to come here for the night.

His eyes dart over your face and if it weren’t for the various lights around, you would’ve never seen the blush dusting his cheeks and ears. “Forgive me, I just- when I was eavesdropping in the line earlier, I thought you were funny and I did- I mean- I also found you very pretty. If it helps. And I almost didn’t come to you when I did but my friends- they-” he stumbles over his words before stopping completely, offering an apologetic smile as if you didn’t find everything he did endearing. Fuck, how were you supposed to breathe normally when this guy is just so fucking cute. “I wanted to get to know you.”

“Okay,” you begin, and then you look around, trying to think of something to say, something normal before you turn to look back at him and he was smiling something so gentle it left a hole in your chest. Why is it so hard to breathe around this pretty boy? “Then let’s start with names, yeah?” You say yours, sticking a hand out and feeling like an idiot until he takes it in his grasp, the touch of him easily making you feel faint. He leans down, and yeah, you’re gone, gone forever, to be buried because what pretty boy leans down and brings your hand up ever so gently to kiss the back of your knuckles?

“I’m Wilbur,” and you nod, breathless for the rest of time because he fucking stole it, and he smiles, switching hands so when he turned to start walking, your fingers were interlocked and swinging between the two of you. Wilbur, who’s so fucking sweet, sends you a smile as the two of you join the thinning crowd to go find things. “Aren’t there any rides?” He asks, and you give him a look, stopping and pointing behind you. “Seems there is,” the smile, you swear, it’ll be ingrained in your memory as the best thing you’ll ever see. The ride in question happened to be the staple of this festival. The ferris wheel. “Do you want to go on it with me?” He stops the two of you from walking into the line, “I don’t want to force you into doing something you don’t want to do.” The serious look is just as pretty as his smiles but you nod.

“If you don’t get on the ride with me, I’ll assume you hate me or that you kick puppies, one or the other,” you say, while stepping into the line and he’s quick to follow you, almost toppling you over and you have to laugh, steady him with one of your hands on his shoulders.

“I wanted to make it clear that neither of those things are true- you know, I don’t- I think kicking puppies is unforgivable and one of the worst things you can do.” He says and you peek at him through the corner of your eye.

“That so?”

“Yes, so.”

“So does that mean you like me?” You ask, accepting the help to get into the capsule, smiling at the attendant briefly before turning to Wilbur, holding your breath in as you offer your hand, your knees weak for what’s about to happen next.

He sees and beams at you, sliding his hand into yours as if the two of you were made for nothing else, as if there could’ve been anything else in the world you were made for. Thousands of years in the making and it’s come to feeling his thumb swipe over your own, nothing else made more sense than now. The ride begins to move and your grip on him tightens.

“Are you sure you wanted to go on this ride?” He asks, noticing you refused to look down, or anywhere really, it was easier to space out for a quick second while you were moving. “We could’ve gone to another one,” he assures you but you shake your head, trying to send him a reassuring smile.

“I appreciate it, I do, but I really did want to go on this ride with you. Mostly because you wanted to go on it. I just don’t- I don’t do well with heights.” And he hums before carefully moving, moving as not to rock the capsule. He sits facing you and squeezes your hand, managing to get you to look at him.

“Tell me about Seff.” He says and you stammer.

“He’s a friend-”

“-yes, he’s married, but you looked close, like siblings. Tell me about him, I meant it when I said I wanted to know you.”

And so you tell him all about Seff, your good friend and yes, he also happens to be closer than siblings you ever could have. You tell him about the stupid things he does, things that frustrate you and things that make you afraid you’ll never be a good enough friend for him. The conversation shifts and by the time the ride has gone twice in a circle and lets you two off, you’re certainly shocked. Surprised. Whatever word is best, it’s what you are because he still smiles at you and helps you out and holds your hand and points at a game with plenty of plush prizes to win. Still not over how he helped you through the ferris wheel, you’re happy to be gifted a stuffed bear, one with a bow on it.

Following the winning of your bear, it was heard that the light show would begin so you helped him find a spot in the grass, the two of you sat close as you watched the sky and waited, the sound of laughter, talking and the music playing combined with the smell of food was enough to keep the silence between you two happy. You honestly could not have thought of a better way to spend your night, because no offense Seff, but after his wife would arrive, you would spend the rest of the night as a third wheel or alone. Neither sounded fun. And to be fair, Wilbur is wonderful company. One that’s one you a bear.

So the two of you are sitting, content in the silence when Wilbur opens his mouth and begins to speak when there’s a loud noise and then fireworks in the sky, children starting to scream and laugh louder, running with sparklers. You startled in that moment, not because of the noise, but because of the way he sought out your hand immediately, holding it tightly.

You turn to look at him fully, watching the lights flash on his face, how they light up every feature you’ve come to adore in the time you’ve known him. He doesn’t turn to you for a moment, waiting to look you in the eye and you save him a gentle smile of your own.

“You were here for the last festival, weren’t you?” The last festival, you were afraid, didn’t have a good ending like this one might have.

He looks at you, eyes searching for something in your face before exhaling and nodding. “I saw- I saw it happen.” You squeeze his hand.

“Me too.” The look he sends you is heartbreaking, his beautiful brown eyes almost watering, enough for you to let go of the bear for a moment, to scoot closer and hold his hand with both of yours. “And it’s okay, it’s been a year and nothing has happened yet.” You repeated exactly what Seff told you at the beginning, told him what soothed you and you hold his hands as he holds both of yours. You ignore the show for him, making sure he’s breathing right, that he’s doing a little better than when the show started.

And closer to the end, he turns to look at you, your face closer than before and you wonder what he has in mind. He leans in closer to you, his gaze focused on something lower on your face before he meets your eyes, smiling briefly before squeezing your hand again. “I want to know you more, and if you’re okay with it, completely okay with it, would you be okay to exchange numbers?” You let out a breath of air, laughing slightly as you untangle one of your hands.

“Hand your phone over.”

It’s a matter of seconds before the device sits in your palm, cool to the touch and you find the lead singer laughing with him on the lockscreen. He unlocks the phone and leans his head against yours as you add your contact information. Before you could stop yourself, you opened the camera and held it away from the two of you smiling, nerves shot as he hid his face against your hair, tickling your neck. You take it while laughing to yourself. “You’re too cute,” you say offhandedly, moving to confirm the picture not even realizing what you said, till he pulls back and makes you breathless for the countless times you’ve seen him smiling.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks even though both of you are more than aware how he heard you in the snack vendor line, practically shouting how you found him pretty.

“I take it back, you need a bag to cover,” you gesture to his face, “all of that.” You say with a half-hidden smile and he whines, slipping his phone back into his pocket with a pout. Then he taps your fingers and asks for your phone.

And he saves himself to your phone with a picture of him smiling and you just barely hiding your face in his shoulder, protesting how you didn’t want to be in it just like he did. You smile at the picture before also putting your phone away. “Well,” you look around, “the show is almost over, was there anything else you wanted to do before leaving?” You could’ve sworn his eyes dipped to trace the bottom of your face before flicking back up to your stare, but then he was smiling again, that damned smile, and shaking his head.

“This is possibly one of the best nights I’ve had in a while…” and when he trails off, he reaches for your hand. “Thank you for that.”

“I didn’t do much, honestly,” you squirm under the sincerity, but he takes none of it, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight. And he keeps going, talking about this or that, but your brain blanks out after being hugged, you could smell the soap on his skin, a hint of cologne and deodorant and it makes your head spin. How does he do it? Smell so good and look so pretty? When he pulls back, you try for a smile.

Nothing else happens, he helps you stand to your feet and interlocks a few of your fingers with his, guiding you back to the area where you parked, guiding him to it with your stuffed bear tucked in your elbow. He’s so kind to open the back door and buckle your bear in, patting his fuzzy forehead with a gentle head. When he comes out of it and you shut the door, the two of you just stare at each other. “This was, really, a good night,” Wilbur starts and you agree. “Text me when you get home safely?” You nod and before you can process it, he steps into your space, almost crowding you against your car. He leans in, closer than before, his nose just barely touching yours with the two of you experiencing the fan of the other’s breath.

Then he moves away from your face, slightly, and presses one soft kiss to your cheek, lingering close for a few seconds before he leans away. He holds your hand and squeezes and then another firework goes off and he looks away.

“I’ll see you around.” He promises and then lets go of your hand, walking away slowly till he has to turn around and keep moving forward. Walking away till you can’t see him, blending into the crowd on the sidewalk. Still, you can’t help but watch the crowd move for a moment more. Wondering if you’d see your pretty boy.

… “Oh that was too cheesy, get a fucking grip, you simp.” You groan to yourself, slapping a hand to your forehead before getting into the car and starting the engine. And when you open your phone later that night, when you can still feel his lips against your cheek, skin burning where they once were, you send him a text. A simple one, telling him you’re in bed and wondering if he made it home safely too.

Despite having work in the morning, you refuse to go to bed without seeing a response. And despite the good night and the kiss he left you with, you never receive one.

Clocking out and checking your phone, you sigh when you see that the text is still on delivered. Part of you wants to hope that he just lost his phone or meant to respond but forget but you’ve gone through this before. You’ve had great nights with perfect gentlemen who made your heart flutter and made you feel special and seen. And you’ve had to pull your heart and head together when they never spoke to you again. You just have to come to terms that Wilbur, your pretty boy, is one of those guys. Only to be remembered with great care.

You try to console yourself in the car, trying to tell yourself that it’s okay you may never get to see him. That he might not have meant it when he wanted to know you, when he wanted to see you again. When he lets you put yourself in his phone and himself in yours just to never look at it again.

You stare down at the picture and somehow, you can’t bring yourself to delete the contact information. You’re tired from work and the lack of sleep and the lack of response, it’s time to go home.

(With it being so late in the day, with so little energy, it’s a wonder how you get home safe but that’s also probably due to the eyes watching you at the moment. Probably.)

[the-kr8tor]

Fluffy Friday omg….can I request Hobie and the reader having a day out with Billie and Ramona? Ty in advance!! :)))

Yayy for Billie and Mona request!!! Thank you ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, mentions of breast feeding, Twins AU, Fluff.

It's Fluffy Friday!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You coo and make funny faces at the twins, cuddled comfortably in your arms, the wooden bench under you helps in carrying the babies since they've grown a lot in the last five months. They laugh wholeheartedly at your pouted lips spluttering, eyes crossed whilst you bounce them lightly.

The park is full of people enjoying the sun, teenagers playing frisbee in an open area, elderly doing their morning stretches, people from all walks of life basking in the sunlight after weeks of cloudy and rainy weather.

It's the twin's first day out since their birth, you and Hobie finally feel comfortable enough to let them out of the house instead of just showing Billie and Mona the small backyard. You're still apprehensive at first, motherly instincts kicking in with every loud noise and hidden germs. But when you saw their smiles and giggles the moment you stepped outside your worries waned. After all they've got Spider-Man as their father, with Hobie around you've got nothing to worry about. Well maybe except for germs.

The aforementioned man battles with nature right in front of you, the wind keeps blowing away the picnic blanket on the grass. Edges sweeping to the middle once Hobie gets a hold of the other side of the cloth. Frustrated, he looks around for anyone watching, slyly moving his sleeve to reveal his web shooters. He aims, quickly sticking his webs on the corners of the blanket, preventing the wind from blowing it away again. Hobie tucks his sleeve back down to hide the gadget.

"I saw that" you say with a smirk.

"I know, was showing off to my girls" Hobie makes his way to the bench, arms stretched to help carry Billie. He makes that 'dad carrying his heavy kid' groan. Free hand taking the stroller, rolling it onto the grass next to the blanket.

Billie beams at Hobie, tiny hands instinctively reaching towards his face. He smiles back, indulging his daughter, nuzzling his nose right on the crown of her head, curls tickling him.

Sitting down on the red stereotypical picnic blanket, Ramona hears Billie's laugh, attuned to her sister's delight, she tries to wiggle out of your arms and into the blanket.

Hobie notices as you try to balance Mona's flopping in your arms. "I think your sister's jealous" he whispers to Billie who babbles a reply.

Sitting down next to you, cramming himself into the small space (even though there's more right in front), he takes Mona in your arms expertly. In the last five months, he's found himself an expert at holding his daughters at the same time, never neglecting one for the other. Mona smiles, a carbon copy of your own smile. Hobie grins back, doing the exact same thing to Mona, snuggling the top of her head, careful of the soft part of it hidden behind her tiny beanie.

They both have similar ones with pom-poms on the top, Billie has bright yellow ones to match her onesie while Mona has pastel purple, a contrast to her light green onesie. Guess who dressed her?

"Now I'm the one who's jealous" you watch them try to take their dad's attention away from the other, small hands grasping at his Hoodie. The adorable sight makes your heart dance.

"They'll be back when they get hungry"

You lay your head on Hobie's shoulder, hand cupping the back of his in an attempt to hold it. Sighing dramatically, "guess I'm just a glorified milk maker" you complete your joke with a pout.

"Not my fault" he catches on with your bit. Neck craning to kiss your cheek.

"It's literally half your fault" you say with a laugh, leaning away from his lips.

Billie and Mona follow the sounds of their parents' voices, eyes moving back and forth, eyes curious.

Hobie's lips still puckered, waiting for you to lean towards him. With a roll of your eyes and a lopsided smile, you give him a chaste yet love filled kiss. Moving down to peck each of your daughter's foreheads. They giggle, kicking Hobie's torso in giddiness.

The sun shines overhead as you continue your day out with your little family.

[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit Part Two ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two, three

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst, explicit smut, 'daddy' and 'babygirl' petnames, light spanking, heated physical domestic argument

x x x

Jake shot me a text as soon as he touched down in his hotel, leaving me to navigate the aftermath of our little gathering solo. I silently cleaned up the traces of the night, letting my thoughts swirl in the quiet aftermath. Shouldn't I be on cloud nine? Chris, I assumed, had already landed by now, maybe snagging his stuff from the baggage claim. Why the resistance to me picking him up? Couldn't he save some cash and avoid those Uber headaches? As I mulled over Jake's words from our earlier chat, a wave of guilt washed over me. If someone messed with my career, I'd probably cut ties too. 

But did it have to be face-to-face? 

Suddenly, two knocks jarred me, throwing my dogs into their usual frenzy of barks. Now? It felt too soon, like breaking a speed record from airport to doorstep, factoring in landing, baggage, and Uber waits. My motion light, unnoticed until now, flickered on as I was lost in thought. My palms got a little clammy as I fished out my phone, checking for messages from a friend dropping by. But all my friends were back in my hometown. 

Unscheduled visits are a rarity out here, that’s part of the reason why I picked such an isolated home. 

Scrolling through my phone, the doorbell rang out, setting my pets into a louder commotion. Activating the security camera app, I saw Chris on the screen—dark hoodie, black beanie, and chill gray sweats. Hands in his pockets, a visible exhale, like he'd been holding his breath. Just one piece of luggage, small enough to be a carryon. Skipping baggage claim altogether, I guessed. 

Maybe he didn't want to risk airport paparazzi, but at this hour, it'd be a ghost town anyway. 

I unlocked the door, slower than planned, giving it a cautious swing open. Stepping back, I left room for him to enter, the question of how to react buzzing in my head. Hug him? Kiss him? Do a little happy dance? God this is awkward. Chris sniffed, a hint of red on his nose, and began shedding his shoes and beanie, shaking out his curly hair. He looked wiped, but it had been ages since I'd seen him without the makeup mask.    His eyes told the tale of tiredness, the faint shadow under barely-there brows, and the shifts in his skin tone—all untouched by the glam squad. Even a touch of facial hair peeked through, a secret sign of the real guy behind the polished pretty boy image, something he religiously stayed on top of. All the things that make him very human.  The things not many people get to see. 

"What changed?" I threw the question at him, arms crossed in the entryway. Our eyes connected for the first time since he rolled in. I caught a flicker in his right eye, a giveaway of stress and insomnia. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, a nervous move, just enough to reveal a hint of his dimple near his mouth's corner. 

Undeterred, I pressed on, "Channie—" 

His eyebrows pulled together instinctively, a tough look in his eyes. "Don't call me that," he shot back, a stern expression etched on his face. 

Frustration bubbled up, my voice amped up involuntarily, control slipping away. 

"What the fuck is your problem? What? Did you catch a red-eye just to come argue with me?" 

"Yes! I caught a red-eye fucking flight to—"    Chris cut himself off mid-sentence, sucking in air sharply through his teeth, muttering something under his breath in Korean. He ran his hand down his face, eyes closed, releasing a breath before locking eyes with me again. The anger lingered, but it was transforming into something I couldn't quite put my finger on. 

I could feel hot tears threatening, but I held them back, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, refusing to show any weakness. Was this the end? 

"Of course, I hopped on a flight to have it out with you. Isn't that what you wanted?"    “Don’t you gaslight me Christopher Bang, I’m not your little fucking fans–” 

He looked exasperated, hands out, "What do my fans have to do with this?! You said it's simple, am I coming or not? I'm here, just like you wanted, because it's all about you, isn't it?" 

I turned away, striding off, the red haze building within me. I wanted to lay into him for talking out the side of his neck like this, but I wouldn't stoop to that level. His voice echoed down the hall. 

"Yeah, walk away. It's your specialty—running away." 

I halted, closing my eyes, back turned to him, grappling with the urge. I fought it hard; he was on the brink of hitting below the belt. Logic eluded me at this moment. 

"I'm going to smoke before I physically violate you." 

Attempting to walk away again, his footsteps echoed behind me. Chris wasn't the type to follow for an argument—that was typically my role. I expected him to detour to the kitchen for a drink or something, anything other than what he actually did. His hand seized my forearm, yanking me hard enough to turn me three-quarters around. I saw red, wind knocked out of me as my back slammed into the wall, caged between his big, loud hands thudding against the wall beside my head. A flinch—a moment of confusion. Had he struck me? 

Quickly assessing, no parts of my body ached except between my shoulder blades from the impact. 

Breathing heavier than anticipated, Chris mirrored the sentiment. 

"Physically violate me, then," he uttered, his voice dangerously low, just above a whisper. My body was confused, my brain a tangled mess. His intense gaze bore into my face, forcing me to look away. He tilted his head, compelling eye contact once more. 

"It's not rocket science, Y/N." 

The phrase echoed from our earlier phone argument, reigniting my hostility. I raised my head, meeting his eyes with a narrowed gaze. "I hate you," I snarled, trying to slip underneath his arm to free myself. Chris wasn't having it; he gripped my wrist behind my back, pressing my chest against the wall. His muscular frame kept me in place, his chest against my back. I twisted my wrist, but he tightened his hold. His breath grazed my shoulder, his words so close to my ear it felt like he was feeding them straight into my brain. 

"I hate you too, baby," he murmured. His free hand ghosted the tendrils of hair that had escaped my messy ponytail, tender and gentle unlike the firm grip on my wrist. As his fingers swept the hair away, soft lips pressed against my skin, eliciting a sigh from my lips. Each kiss left thorns of heat, moving along my neck, down to my shoulder. 

"I hate you," I repeated, losing my edge. 

"Mmm, shut up—I know," Chris replied.    Finally, he releases me, his hands finding their way to my waist beneath my baggy sweatshirt. Despite being in my home for a few minutes, his touch is still cold against my warmed skin. I feel a shiver as my nipples harden, and he seems to sense it, cupping them, squeezing. My knees almost buckle as I lean back, my head perfectly resting on his shoulder. Our bodies intertwine, fitting together like a perfect puzzle piece. His fingers pinch the pebbled flesh, drawing a moan from me and an audible sigh from him. 

He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and I can feel his hardness against my backside. It's not a gradual thing; he's already rock stiff, hips grinding into me as his hands explore my body with a passionate messiness. 

What were we arguing about again?    Lust swirls, making me dizzy with how good my body feels. My eyes lose focus and regain it with every recovery breath as he squeezes at the extra padding on my hips and waist. No part of my body goes untouched, and I try to shake off my reservations.     No, that was a hang-up of mine.    Christopher Bang is here to touch, lick, and squeeze every inch that belongs to him. 

A tap on my hip brings me back to reality—a gentle reminder between us whenever things heat up in unconventional places. 

Against-the-wall activities are actually pretty uncomfortable in real life. 

Who knew? 

He takes my hand, and I follow him like an excited puppy, almost stumbling over myself to reach his body once we get to the couch. It's my turn now; my hands have a mind of their own too, you know. 

Such a soft face without makeup, I'd almost forgotten the hardness of his body—had it become even more solid? My hands run over his abdomen, feeling something different—less lean, more meaty. Usually, I go straight for what's mine, but now I'm curious. Gripping the bottom of his hoodie, I can sense the muscle shirt underneath, so I yank them both off, the scent of his body wash, cologne, and deodorant hitting me all at once, etching the experience into my mind on nearly every sensory level, except for... 

Taste. 

As his clothes drop to the floor with a muffled thud on the carpet, he turns to face me. His skin is less milky, more sandy tan, and wheat-colored under my warm lights, unlike the artificial ones he's usually bathed in. He must've soaked up the sun in LA, and I can still see it reddening in the places where blood has surged the quickest. 

He's completely under the spell of carnal sensuality—deep in the well, unable to see anything around him, becoming the parts of himself he wouldn't dare confront in the daylight. I notice because I pay attention to things like that—I see the way he looks at me, as if I'm his most treasured plaything. His mannerisms change, slower, with certainty in every touch. He says things you wouldn't dare repeat once he's back to his Earth self, lest he deny, deny, deny, laughing loudly overtop of you, or cringing away from embarrassment. 

Yes, as I drop slowly to my knees, watching him, I see the way he stands in his masculinity, divine, a god in his own right. Just when I think the moment can't get any hotter or I might combust, I hear him—a puff of air through his nose, a lazy, almost entertained, but not quite—chuckle. His lip quirks ever so slightly upwards. 

"You hate me?" 

Heat radiates from my body; I'm certain I'm letting off steam at this point. I feel it, especially in my face, fingers wrapped in the waistband of his sweatpants, hanging loosely as I look down, unable to maintain eye contact, feeling regret building up in me. I can tell by the way he says it that he never believed it—but still... 

"I didn't think so," Chris' voice answers the unspoken questions in my head. His fingers graze the bottom of my chin, urging me to look at him. "Look at me while you do it." 

My engine roars to life without hesitation. I tighten my grip on his sweats, yanking them down with determination. He kicks them off, backing up to sit on the couch, but I'm not waiting. I take the caramel-colored, thick head of his dick between my lips, halting his retreat. The sweetness of his precum floods my mouth, turning bitter as it reaches the back of my tongue and throat. Flattening my tongue against the bottom of his girthy shaft, I open my mouth, letting him rub his sensitive, unsheathed tip against the warm, back wall of my throat. 

Obediently watching him. 

He likes that, making it clear by placing his hand on the back of my head, urging me to stay while he thrusts further, pulling out just a centimeter to plunge into my throat. Small gasps escape his lips every time my gag reflex spasms around him. I run out of breath, choking backward, and he lifts his hand, allowing me to right myself. 

"C'mon, babygirl—thaaaat's it—fuck." Chris grips what's left of my ponytail, guiding me back onto his dick, all the way to the back, with no true mercy. A few more tiny thrusts, and I'm coughing again, my mouth and jaw drenched with slippery saliva mixed with the constant ooze of his precum. He glances behind him, ensuring his seating, then lets himself fall back onto the couch, hand tangled in my thick hair as I wrap both hands around his cock—a pretty, deep brown, a stark contrast to his body tone. 

When I start focusing on stroking his sensitive tip, he drops his head back, emitting the most delicious groan. Pulling back on his sheath, dribbling spit onto his tip, I begin jerking him again, taking advantage of the smoothness the extra skin provides. I follow with my mouth, taking in whatever my hands can't reach, and when I start with the suction, another groan escapes him—this time, broken, his hips rising a little off the couch, encouraging me to keep going. 

"Oh God—that feels fucking—incredible; don't you—fucking stop."    His chest moves with each gasp as I twirl my hand a certain way. I try to stay consistent, but it's been a while, and my neck strains from the bobbing, lips growing numb. But fuck, he's so hot; I don't wanna stop. 

I engage in a slow rhythm, savoring the silky feeling of his dickhead against my swollen mouth and eager lips, pressing loud, wet kisses against it. He's lifted his gaze to watch, and I seize the opportunity to run my tongue along his length, exploring the prominent ridge beneath. 

"Oh my God—" His head drops back, words and vowels drawn out in ecstasy. 

I lean back on my heels, hands taking charge, a twist here, a firm grasp there. When I lean forward and start slurping again, with all intentions of taking this man’s soul—his hips withdraw, and he halts me with a breathless, "Fuck," sounding like he just finished a sprint. "You almost made me cum," He taps my shoulder twice, a signal we both understand, prompting another switch in our silent dance. 

I’m more than happy to obey, feeling how wet I’ve become when he pulls my sweats off as I climb onto the couch on my knees, my arms resting on the head of it that rests against the wall.   I can feel his hands, now warm, even hot almost against my ass as he spreads me open.  I curl my fingers into the couch with anticipation, and then comes the feeling of both of his fingers entering me first.  I let out an eager moan, reveling in the relief and satisfaction of being touched by someone so skillfully.  He’s curling two fingers, stroking my spot, I can feel his pinky and index splayed against my juicy, wet pussy lips.  The filthy sounds amplify as he increases the pressure, prompting me to move against his touch, the base of his hand firmly against my asshole. 

“Mmm, baby, you know how much daddy loves to eat this pretty little cunt—but the way you’re clenching around my fingers, fuck I—I gotta feel you.”  Chris slows down, he speaks again, reminding me of his proposition, “Is that alright babygirl? Hm? Can daddy fuck you now?” 

“Mhm, Mhm!” I can’t think straight, why was he asking? Of course he could fuck me ten ways from Tuesday in a handstand for all I care!  Just— 

“Fuck me.” I beg, unsure if I meant to finish that thought out loud. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” The weight of his knee presses onto my leg, his foot securing his position against my other thigh, his thumb against my asshole as I begin to feel his dick stretching me open, eliciting the weirdest, downright feral sound from deep within my gut. He’s raw, and I swore I could feel every vein, every ridge, and his head passing through every sensitive quadrant of my pussy until his balls tickled the lips covering my entrance.  It was then that my walls squeeze around him, desperate to feel him move.  I could almost make myself cum just like that—I begin moving against him, caught in the intensity of the moment, like a cat in heat, and he’s so deep, I feel him in places that make my eyes flutter. 

Thumb leaving my sensitive hole, Chris takes firm hold of the sides of my tummy, rutting into my heat, sending a shiver through my spine that puts me into an arch. He seizes the chance to hold the front of my neck, adjusting me for a slower, more profound connection, exploring every inch of me.  It takes a lot of stamina in the legs for this—of course he’s got that.  I rest my hand on his thigh beside me, feeling the firmness, digging my nails in as I grit my teeth together, the pleasure overwhelming me as our bodies, beginning to get slick with the fluids between us, rock desperately against one another. 

I'm released, and I lurch forward, barely snagging myself on the top of the couch. Just then, I sense it against my left hip— 

 tap tap 

My vision snaps back into focus as I hear him breathing as heavily as I am, flopping down onto the couch. I take the lead, hovering over him. We both gaze as his dick is swallowed up by my pussy, inch by beautiful inch.    I let out an incoherent sound, a mix of a grunt and a moan, my arm draped over his shoulder, fingers entwined in the curls at the nape of his neck as he thrusts. My touch shifts from gentle exploration to grabbing fistfuls of his thick, silky, curly hair at the base of his skull. Using my knees for stability, I sync with his rhythm, adding those addictive hip circles that set every part of me ablaze like a pinball machine. The alarms blare, the lights flash – this, right here, is my favorite way to connect with Chris, where we're on an equal playing field. 

As we delve deeper into each other's gaze, the intensity heightens, but there's always a moment when one of us surrenders, head lolling back, eyes rolling together. His hands work my hips in rhythmic circles, like a baker kneading dough on a board. Yet, I sense when he's had his fill as he takes back control, lifting me up and snapping his hips into me at speeds that defy reality. My cries become a constant stream, shameless screams of his name, erratic and desperate. 

"Yeah, thaat's it—"    I can feel my walls softening as my body begins to literally feel like it's filling up with water that’s threatening to consume me any second now.  I’m gasping, trying to form the words to tell him I’m almost there, that he can’t stop, or even slow up, he’s got to keep going, I’m certain if I don’t get there, I’m going to die. 

“D-Daddy, don’t—” I can’t say anything else, I can only hope he gets it. 

And he does. 

Chris always gets it. 

“Gonna stop---all your bitching, hm?”  He’s holding my waist to allow me the freedom to focus on my impending orgasm. “Gonna let me do my fucking job from now on, yeah?”    “Mm--yeah!”      “Say it,”    “Chris!” I whimper in protest, “I’mma s-stop fucking---bitching!” 

“That’s my girl.”    He slaps my ass, sending a shock through my body, but before I can recover, he strikes again, and again, and my body becomes quickly hyperstimulated. I start letting go, my breath held hostage in my chest as Chris lets out a stream of curses, hitting his peak and spilling inside of me.  I can feel it, it’s carrying my climax out even further, and when I finally collapse, with him still inside, I can feel my entire body buzzing, and I’m muttering something that doesn’t make sense to myself or him. 

We're both catching our breath, heart rates settling down, but Chris finds joy in this aftermath. He chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my lower back, exploring the dimples above my tailbone.    "What are you saying?" he asks. 

"I love you. I love you, and I never want us to breakup. Ever," I say, more composed now, my cheek resting on his shoulder, eyes closed, the pull of sleep threatening to take over like it always did after a proper orgasm. His arms wrap around me, securing them with a grasp on his own wrist. I feel a sense of security. 

"I love you too. I didn't come all this way to break up with you," he reassures me. I lift my head, likely with my hair wild and untamed. 

"Really, Channie?" 

He laughs.  The nickname is cleared for use again. He kisses my lips.

"Of course not. Why would I cross the country just to break up with someone? That seems like a lot of...effort," Chris continues. He tilts his head back to gaze at me, tucking his chin in. Once he sees my focused attention, he looks ahead as he talks. "I want to be with you, or I wouldn't have made you my girl—" 

"You didn't," I interrupt, sitting up. I pull away from his lap, wrapping the knitted throw over myself as I nestle into the couch beside him. 

He looks puzzled, "I didn't? Really?" He shrugs, raising his brows. "I always thought you were." 

The relief floods in. 

So, we were on the same page. 

Curiosity takes over, and I inquire, "When did you start thinking of me as your girlfriend?" 

"Mm." Chris looks up in thought before locking eyes with me again. "The first time we had sex." 

I'm taken aback by the memory. It wasn't a smooth ride, ended up in a heated argument. "When I got caught outside the building after our studio session? Chris, you almost jeopardized your whole career after that." 

Chris tugs at the blanket's end, and I hand it over. As he slides underneath, he takes my foot into his lap, rubbing circles into the center. "That's not how it works—don't get me wrong, it was... difficult. It still is, which is why I couldn't just decide to show up when you asked. I've been allowed, by contract, to date for a few years now." 

"Then why are we sneaking around like you're ashamed of me or something?" I hug the blanket tighter, feeling exposed. 

Chris seems thrown by this revelation. "Ashamed of you for what? You're beautiful, talented. I don't—did I give you that impression, babygirl?" He shakes his head. "I'm protecting you. You've just been signed to a major label, and we've got a good thing going, yeah? Why mess it up now when we can wait for things to level out for the both of us?" 

He makes some valid points. It's reassuring to hear he's not ashamed of me. I start to feel the familiar peace his presence brings. It's been four months since we were last in the same country, let alone the same city. I grew impatient after he came in on business and then left again, making excuses not to see me. That's why this time, I escalated it and added pressure. 

"Level out, what does that mean?" I ask. Chris sits back, mindlessly running his thumb over the pads of my toes while looking at the coffee table's candle. 

"I think we'll know once we both get there." He looks up to me. "I'm sorry, babygirl. I wish I had a better answer for you right now." He sounds sincere enough. I believe him. He's given me no reason not to trust him before, right? His fingers stop on my soles, and he tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if trying to see something better. He leans forward, picking up the knitted beanie near the ashtray. 

My heart drops when I realize what it is. 

But why? I didn't do anything wrong.    RIght? 

"This new?" He turns it around on his hand. "Where'd you get it? I like it." 

Caught in the moment, I blurt, "A gift." I reach forward, taking it before he can spot any stray hair that doesn't match mine. He's not checking that closely, at least not yet. I turn it over in my hands. "I've been keeping it cold in the house, so it helps keep me warm," I say, tossing it onto the beanbag chair. I turn to him, nudging his shoulder as I scoot closer. 

"Sooo, how was KCON?"  - fin

[onboardsorasora]

one of my melatonin ideas lol I hope its good lmao my asks have been so full of pregnant Daniel recently that this was clearly the next step on forward.

Dewis Hidden Pregnancy 1400wrds part 2

cw: omegaverse, mpreg, so if you're not into that sorry.

Lewis walked into the paddock in Albert Park. Past the Melbourne walk and through the wall of photographers waiting for his entrance. The alpha took a left by the FIA building and stopped up short at the crowd in front of him.

There were drivers and media handlers surrounding someone and he could smell the excitement of the group. He slowed down, trying to see what was causing the large crowd when he heard a sound he hadn't heard in person in a while. Daniel's laugh.

Daniel was back?

Lewis thought back to the last time he'd seen the omega, back in Silverstone last year. They'd gone on a date after the race. It had been a lovely time, Lewis had thought. Daniel had done the test for Red Bull the following week and then he’d gone back to Australia after and kinda stayed off the grid. 

Lewis hadn't heard from him at all, he'd hoped to invite Daniel out on another date and maybe another after that. Hoped to eventually be able to call the omega his. But Daniel hadn't returned any of his calls or texts until Lewis just stopped.

He'd asked around if anyone had heard from him but people weren't very forthcoming. Lewis had been hurt, but he'd let it go as best he could. He hadn't expected Daniel to ghost him, but there was nothing he could do about it except accept that it was a problem with Daniel and not with him.

The crowd dispersed a little and Lewis was able to see just what drew everyone together. Daniel looked good, he wore a creme sweater and his usual skinny jeans. His hair had grown out a little, looking more like his Renault days than anything. 

Daniel bent over a bassinet and Lewis watched with wide eyes as he lifted out a small baby, bouncing the bundle and making shushing noises. Daniel looked over at Lewis and froze, the alpha felt sick at the fear that enveloped his normally sweet scent. His eyes were wide.

Lewis prided himself in being quick on the uptake, but he honestly felt like his thoughts were swimming through sludge right now. A pudgy brown hand with a tiny golden bracelet patted Daniel's lips, gripping at his nose. 

Daniel had a baby. 

Daniel had a baby with darker skin.

Lewis always figured he was good at math and equations. He knew that Silverstone was roughly nine months ago give or take a week or two. 

Daniel had a baby.

“Hi.” Daniel placed the small bundle back in the bassinet, making more shushing noises when the baby started to fuss again. “Uhm, we should talk I guess?” Daniel's voice was soft, timid. Lewis had never heard it that way before.

Lewis took a deep breath. There was a benefit to being stunned silent, he had additional time to collect himself and assess the situation. They were still very much in public, he couldn't afford any amount of reaction right now. 

The alpha nodded, “ok.”

Daniel led them into a small office with curtains on the windows and locked the door behind them. Lewis stared at the covered bassinet, he couldn't see the baby inside but he could hear and smell them. Daniel started wringing his hands together, the odor of his nerves was pungent in the room.

“I'm sorry.” Daniel whispered.

“You were pregnant?” Lewis looked between the bassinet and Daniel's nervous face again. The omega nodded jerkily and Lewis felt his chest seize. “It's mine?”

Daniel uncovered the basket with shaky hands and lifted his little girl out of the soft interior. Her little beanie fell off leaving her soft curls to spring free. Her caramel colored skin was darker than Daniel's but lighter than his own– a perfect blend of both of them.

“I have a daughter?” Lewis' voice cracked and Daniel looked painfully contrite. “Why?” 

Lewis locked eyes with Daniel's wet ones.

“I was scared. You– I–we'd only been on one date and I didn't know how…serious you wanted to be. I was afraid that you'd react badly– I hadn't known what I wanted to do if I wanted to keep it so I went home to try and figure it out. Then I got offered the Alpha Tauri drive and–and I would have had to- to get rid of her and I hadn't wanted to.”

“You didn't tell me?” Lewis accused.

“You didn't sign up for this, I didn't wanna like burden you.”

“That wasn't your decision?!” Lewis raised his voice before biting back his reaction. He had a daughter. He was a father. He didn't even know Daniel was pregnant. “So you were just going to hide her from me forever?” 

Lewis looked at him betrayed when Daniel stayed silent for longer than a moment. “You were!”

“... Not forever.” Daniel whispered, clutching the baby close.

“Why..?” Lewis felt like the bottom of his stomach dropped out. The room stunk of upset alpha. 

“Please don't take her from me…” Daniel pleaded and Lewis' eyes widened as if the omega had hit him. 

He left the room quickly, shutting the door behind him firmly while walking down the corridor to get some air. He had a daughter. He had a daughter and he didn't know. All this time Daniel had been pregnant and hadn't told him. Daniel was afraid of him.

Lewis' chest hurt. He never thought Daniel could think that of him. He'd never claim to understand the mind of a pregnant or nesting omega but he and Daniel had known each other for long enough that the alpha was sure Daniel knew his character.

Or at least he thought he did.

He paced the empty space for a while, taking deep breaths and trying to get control of himself again. He looked back down the empty corridor before taking another deep breath, in for seven out for ten. 

He had a daughter. He had a daughter that he hadn't known about. Daniel had been pregnant and had been alone. Lewis was going to meet his daughter and he needed to fix things with his omega. 

Because Daniel was his omega, that had always been the plan. Underneath everything, the hurt and upset and general shock, he knew it to still be true. He wanted Daniel and he wanted his family. They would figure this out.

He walked back to the room and paused at the door, listening to the sounds inside. Their daughter was crying and Daniel was attempting to quiet her, Daniel’s voice was raspy too as if he’d been crying.

Lewis pushed open the door.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry. I messed up but I’ll figure it out with your Daddy, I’ll make it right. I’m so sorry my love.” Daniel was stooped on the floor in the further corner of the room, rocking their small bundle to his chest.  He fingered a chubby cheek, trying to smooth out the sharp shape of her frown. “My bad decisions won’t ruin your life, I promise baby girl.”

“Is that why you came? To tell me?” Lewis asked quietly. Daniel’s eyes snapped up to look at him, he stood quickly and flashed away his tears with his palm.

“You deserved to know. To like be in her life if you wanted…” His voice cracked but he powered through.

“What if I want to be in your life too?” Lewis asked softly and Daniel sniffled.

“You’d– you’d want that? After what I did?”

Lewis took a moment to answer, to think about how to explain it. “Yes.” He settled on. “I don’t trust you, and I’m very hurt and I feel betrayed…. But I want to work past that.”

Daniel’s scent soured, no doubt hating himself for what he’s done. But he nodded and stepped forward slowly, meeting Lewis in the middle of the room. He offered the now quiet baby to the alpha who looked down at her bright dark brown eyes with his own wide ones.

“Her name’s Ava. She’s two months old.”

Lewis smiled when Ava smiled up at him, reaching a chubby hand towards his face. “Hi Ava, it’s lovely to meet you.” 

To Daniel he said, “we’ll figure this out. No more secrets.”

Daniel nodded, “no more secrets.” 

“Good.” Lewis grabbed his hand.

[blueaetherr]

colours

pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): none

summary: the one where kylian enjoys every colour on the reader

"What's your favourite colour?"

Weirdly, it was a question Kylian got a lot, both from being famous and just as a random query. It was asked in his social media comments, during some Insta lives he routinely did, or even asked by kids simply out of curiosity or when he was getting to know someone for the first time. It was a question both frequently yet rarely asked depending on the setting and people around him.

And on this particular day it was brought up by his partner, Y/N, as they were sat in their back garden enjoying the peace of nature and absence of disruption, slowly swaying and rocking on the swing chair.

"What?" Kylian let out a small laugh as he turned to his partner. He took off his sunglasses so he could see her properly, tilting his head. "What has you thinking about what my favourite colour is right now?" 

Curiosity—curious, like every other kid that has asked him the same question before—was on his mind, curious as to why Y/N was asking that question; so particular and personal. They have been together for some time now so he found it very random to bring up out of the blue.

"I've realised that I actually don't know," she shrugged. Y/N was a spontaneous person, in mind, soul and body but especially mind meaning thoughts, opinions and questions chose to come to mind at the most inconvenient times. She turned her body towards Kylian, leaning her cheek against her palm. "I don't think you're really attached to one colour so it's hard to guess. So I'm going to ask... what's your favourite colour, Kylian?"

"Okay, okay!" Again, Kylian had to laugh just a little bit more. It was the determination in Y/N's voice and tone that got to him. "Right, uh, let me think about it..."

Kylian had to really take his time thinking about his answer. In truth, the way Y/N didn't know his favourite colour, he too was clueless about the answer—he just didn't know. When he really did have the chance to lean back and think about it, it all depended on many factors, such as the occasion, his mood and even Y/N herself.

The first colours that came to mind were red and blue. PSG and France colours and Kylian favoured both of them on Y/N—a clear sign of her association with him. She repped those colours from time to time yet enough for Kylian to express such pride over his girlfriend. In times of support when she was at his games or during their intimate moments, he always found so much pleasure and contentment whenever she wore those colours.

Distancing her person from his own, he thought about pink; Y/N's favourite colour, her colour, something Kylian caught a sense of the moment he stepped into her childhood bedroom some years ago. It was her adolescent years yet it still managed to follow her into adulthood, from the primal makeup choices like blush, the accessories she wore or even her favourite album cover being Over It. Pink wasn't as present now compared to before; regardless it remained Y/N's personality—bright and expressive, and everything Kylian fell in love with.

But sometimes Y/N liked to venture away from the bright and expressive and found black and white. The combination was the dress code she had for working in corporate, the mix Kylian could comfortably buy for knowing Y/N would always be pleased with his purchases because you can never go wrong with black and white. To Kylian, the combo was a simple reminder of everything she worked hard for and the fact that if they were both dressed in white and black, she would gracefully outdress him.

Though the colour grey also remained a strong contender as his favourite. It was her cosy colour, their cosy colour. Whenever the couple were lounging together at home, whenever it was game night with family and friends – all in sweats, beanies and hoodies galore, setting the tone right for movie nights, a lazy day or a walk around the neighbour. In simple, perfect for their domestic leisure time together, where the focus was on one another and they could kiss and mess around as they pleased.

And just like red and blue, Kylian really loved green and yellow on Y/N. Nature's colours, and suited her perfectly—always and currently. The green grass in their back garden resting softly against her whenever she sat in it, the afternoon sun complimenting her skin complexion far more than enough, her green and yellow sundress highlighting her natural figure that only Kylian got to see and know truly.

"Honestly, I don't have one," Kylian exhaled deeply, shrugging with a smile, "Like, every colour works for me." i like every colour because they work so well for you.

Y/N's face settled into a frown, unimpressed. Was it wrong for her to expect more from such a simple question? "That's such a boring answer." She glanced around quickly before her eyes landed on Kylian's vest. "I'm just going to say it's white."

"Then I guess it's white," Kylian rolled his eyes before bringing Y/N closer to him, allowing the two to continue swaying and rocking in the swing chair as they shared a few laughs together. 

And Kylian didn't feel the need to argue with Y/N's words. His favourite colour was red, blue, pink, black, white, grey, green, yellow—if anyone was to ask him sometime soon or later, he could say one, a few or maybe even all of them. It didn't matter when they all suited his girlfriend just right.

[prismaticfaery]

Sleepless

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

Description: Late hours, books, and insomnia draw you and the stiff Lieutenant together.

Rating: T+

A/N: So, I had written something previous on Ghost and pregnant!Reader. I wanted to give Reader much more background and I think previously being a field medic fits perfectly for her. I’m giving Reader the nickname “Peach” for cute reasons. I’m already writing a part two to this because omg. I’m sorry if it’s crap lmao.

Your body and brain were betraying you again. The exhaustion of course was hitting you like a ton of bricks but you still could not feel the sweet reprieve of sleep. Restful sleep, that is. You could hear the loud snores down the hall from all of the other soldiers, it’s something you’d grown quite used to over the years of being in the military, but this was a very new group of soldiers you were growing used to. Sometimes you could completely ignore and drown them out, but tonight was different. Your mind would not shut off.

Bringing yourself into a sitting position on your bed, you could feel the chill of the wintry air through your drafty window. You placed a hand on your bedside table, searching in the dark for your watch, placing it on your wrist and fastening it once you found it.

2:16 am.

Quietly grunting as you toss the blanket off of your body, lifting yourself off the bed to find your fluffy slippers and in the search for your slippers, finding your knitted beanie and loose fitting knitted cardigan, and hoping it was okay to keep your sweatpants on around base with it being the middle of the night and most people were dead asleep, you decided to take off to the hangar where there were benches and tables you could relax at.

You stopped at the mess hall first, grabbing a styrofoam cup and a bag of black tea, carrying it to the hot water dispenser and filling it nearly to the top. Blowing on the water as the tea bag steeped, you silently padded to the hangar, the air nipping at your cheeks and nose as your view was now met with humvee’s, and an assortment of planes and jets.

Spotting a table to your liking, you sank down onto the bench with a sigh, placing the hot cup of tea on the table in front of you. Your eyes catch a glimpse of a book resting to the far end of the table, in completely new and neat condition, the pages were not fluffed and not a single crease on the front or back covers. Stretching your arm, you grab the book and bring it close to you.

The Chrysalids by John Wyndham.

Remembering that you had read this particular book in your AP Literature class in high school, you hum and open the book to the first page. You didn’t know any of the soldiers well enough yet in this post to know who could possibly be into this type of book. Your thumbnail had made its way into your mouth, your teeth biting down softly as your focus locked onto the words in the book. Post apocalyptic dystopian novels were quite a fascinating read, and you had nothing better to do in your wide awake state.

You hardly paid any attention to your tea that was by now lukewarm. You were already a quarter of the way done with the book, as it wasn’t a very long book in the first place. The joints in your fingers were locking from the cold air, and you were going off on a guess, but your nose and cheeks were probably a fine shade of red too.

A large dark figure sauntered into your peripheral, and soon lowered down to the seat directly in front of you, “you seemed to have taken a likin’ to my book,” a gruff and heavy English accent made your body visibly jump and look up from the book.

“Sorry, it was just sitting here on the table and I wanted to indulge a little. I didn’t think I would get so carried away,” you sheepishly lower the book to meet the light hazel eyes of your Lieutenant, Ghost.

You drew in a deep breath as you noticed how different Ghost looked when he wasn’t in all of his field gear. He wasn’t even wearing his usual black paint around his eyes, nor his skull balaclava and mask, just a normal black balaclava with a black beanie. You could see his blond eyelashes perfectly. He was still a hulking figure but much less intimidating.

“Peach,” Ghost’s deep voice called out, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” You gulped, breaking your stare.

“I asked if you had slept any this evening.”

“No, sir. It’s normal for me to have sleep troubles and disturbances, I can function pretty well on little sleep. Comes with the job,” a puff of air comes from your nose as you stifle a chuckle, alluding to your job as a forever exhausted medical professional.

A hum escapes Ghost’s balaclava as his eyes lower to the cup of hot tea in his large hands, the black gloves he wore creaking as his grip tightens,” I guess we’re kindred spirits in the sleep department”, he turns his head to the side, carefully lifting his balaclava to take a quick sip of his hot tea.

Ghost’s chin was freshly shaved, though his calculated lifting of the balaclava he obscured his face with showed nothing else. Not even his mouth.

Now you were begging for more from your mysterious Lieutenant. From the time you were brought on as a member of his squad to now, your interactions were few and far in between, and you often questioned why you felt such a need to grow closer to him, but you would often fight yourself on that matter because he was your superior. Though a friendship couldn’t possibly hurt anyone, right?

“Do you read often, Lieutenant?” you eyed the book on the table, then met Ghost’s eyes again.

“As often as my job allows me to,” he quipped, and you knew damn well what he meant.

With how busy Ghost was, you wondered just how often he was able to enjoy his hobbies, if he even had any to indulge in besides of course reading. Many soldiers joked around and said Ghost was a robot and that there were hardly any human qualities in him, yet here he was, sipping a hot tea, and admitting to being a reader. His usual commanding and stoic demeanor was lightened, and you could see emotion in his eyes without the black paint smeared around his eyes. You daresay it made him look so much more attractive, though you could see clearly that he had bags, the light purplish hues accentuated by the dim lighting of the hangar.

“What’s your favorite book?” you piped up from the comfortable silence of the quiet hangar.

“All Quiet on the Western Front,” he looks you in the eyes.

Laughing quite loudly, you say: “I think I kind of saw that coming.”

You could almost see a glimmer of his eyes crinkling in the corners, like he was smiling under his obscuring black mask. All Quiet on the Western Front seems like the kind of book he would enjoy. It’s a book that’s setting took place during the first World War.

“What about you, Peach?” He raised his cup to you, nodding.

“Oh, for sure [book name].”

“That’s a very you thing, with how much I’ve gathered from you so far.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, your nerves getting the best of you, but playing it off coolly, you reply with: “have you been watching me, sir?”

“As much as I can— I like to keep tabs on my soldiers,” Ghost was now looking you in the eyes, noticing almost immediately that you had grown nervous, he decided to add on sneakily: “with you being new and all…”

Your mind raced, the stomach full of fluttering butterflies gnawed especially hard as you sat and watched his eyes scan you over before clutching his cup with both hands, eyelashes now downcast as he watched the steam float up from his hot tea. The nervous tension was thick in the air, not just from you, but from him as well.

A shiver jolted up your spine from the chill of the hangar, your body visibly trembling under your loose cardigan. Ghost tilts his head, wondering why you were wearing such little layering in such freezing temperatures. He stands from his seat on the bench and unzips his gray fleece jacket, revealing a tight black thermal shirt underneath, gray and black ink shading his left wrist– tattoos. You often forget how little you knew about everyone on the new team you had been placed in. Making his way behind you, your eyes never leaving his dark and muscular form. You felt his jacket wrap around your form, the large fleece jacket radiating with the smell of expensive cologne, natural musk, and dead leaves, the warmth from his body still clung to the material.

“You didn’t have to do that, sir,” you looked up at him, his tall form turning to walk out of the hangar doors.

“You keep it– and the book, bring them back when you find yourself unable to sleep, I’ll be here.”

[jishyucks]

Gift Wrapping is a Serious Matter — hjs

‣ pairing: han jisung x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers, crack?

‣ wc: 3.6k

‣ summary: In all honesty, you had no idea why you decided to take up the job of gift wrapping at your local mall. There are moms constantly yelling at you, your fingers are covered in papercuts, and the hours are long. Luckily, your coworker, Jisung, is there to make it more bearable.

‣ warnings: some sexual jokes/innuendos, attempt at being funny, honestly this is just the pair being goofy at work, I thought it was gonna be mostly cute but it’s more just (attempted) crack

‣ an: oop late post but it’s okay ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ I wanted this to be cuter but I’m limiting my stuff to like 4k words to each one unless I seriously can’t. Anyways, enjoy!!

Series Masterlist

“Finally! Took you long enough!” 

Jeongin drops what he’s doing, throwing his hands up in some sort of exaggerated exasperation. 

“Jeongin. I’m literally five minutes early.” You can’t help but situate yourself at the side of the counter that lifts open, blinking at the boy. You greet Choi Beomgyu, another worker, who’s in the middle of making a present look pretty with ribbons. 

“I know, but you being here reminds me that I can finally leave and you’re stuck here for the next six hours, ha-ha,” Jeongin rubs the fact in your face as he multitasks, finishing the present he was currently working on. 

“And what happens if I leave?” You lift the counter and quickly slip under it. You blindly stick your hand into your tote bag to pull out your Santa hat, plopping it onto the counter before turning to grab one of the four vests hanging underneath the tabletop. 

“Then you’d be leaving Jisung Hyung alone, and I know you wouldn’t do that.” Your eyes widen at the mention of Jisung and you shoot Jeongin a glare equal to a warning. You quickly look to see if Beomgyu heard anything and you’re thankful that he’s still very much focused on the present he’s wrapping. 

“Yang Jeongin shut your mouth right now!” You shout quietly. Jeongin only knows of your crush on Jisung because the shift that day was slow and Jeongin had managed to fish a confession out of you. 

“Do I lie?”

You groan. Because, no, Jeongin was not lying. With all the shit you have to manage at this booth, you couldn't possibly leave Jisung or anyone else alone to handle the booth. This gig was a team task. Yelling moms? You needed that backup. Oh, you’re going to be tying a bow? Let me put my finger here to hold it down. Hell, even if you hated Jisung, you could never leave the boy alone to manage the gift-wrapping booth on his own. 

Besides, you liked spending time with Jisung and you were still too afraid to ask him to hang out outside of working hours. 

“Lie about what?” 

Speaking of the boy, Jisung enters the scene still bundled up in his big puffer coat, scarf, and chunky beanie. He’s peeking between his winter garments, blinking between you and Jeongin. 

“Oh, nothing,” Jeongin shrugs. At this point, he’s finished wrapping the present and he’s attaching a label to it for the owner to know which one it was. 

Jisung shrugs it off and he slides a drink tray with two large coffee cups, “I got us hot chocolate.” He pulls down his scarf, revealing a red nose (which you guess had resulted from the cold) and a wide grin. 

“Thank you so much, Ji,” you gasp, “Let me put my stuff away and I’ll grab mine.” 

Jisung nods and busies himself with his coat and toque. While he was at it, Jeongin managed to tease you. “Thank you so much, Ji!” 

He instantly earns an elbow to the gut, “You’re just jealous you didn’t get one.” 

“Why would I be jealous when I can go get myself one right now?” Jeongin laughs, “Because I’m not gonna be here for the next six hours…” He’s putting his vest away and grabbing his things. Instead of lifting the countertop to leave, he hops over it coolly.

You shoot him one last look, “Yeah, yeah. Now leave. You’re basically loitering.” 

“I have to wait for Gyu,” Jeongin points at Beomgyu who was now following in pursuit, “Wanna get some hot chocolate before we leave?”  

Beomgyu nods, “Please.” The boy quickly throws on his jacket and grips a beanie and his mitts in one hand. Jisung enters the booth when Beomgyu leaves, almost taking out the younger boy with his backpack on the way in. 

“Why is your backpack ginormous?” you stifle a laugh, gathering the presents that Jeongin and Beomgyu had left. The two leave, wishing you guys a good luck. “Have one of Santa’s elves in there or something to help us?” You’re obviously joking, but the child in you is hoping that an elf would truly jump out of Jisung’s bag to offer assistance. 

“I wish,” Jisung laughs. He grabs one of the vests and slips it on, “I went to the gym so my gym stuff is in here.” Zipping it open, he pulls out his own Santa hat and tugs it onto his head. The hat pushes his bangs lower over his eyes and you feel your heart jump at how utterly cute he looks. 

“Makes sense,” you reply coolly. You continue to organize the wrapped presents, plopping them into bags for the owners when they return. 

Without hesitation, Jisung quickly takes a sip of his hot chocolate before he moves to help you organize the wrapped presents into bags. You two do it with ease, having developed a routine over the past few weeks. 

When you first met Jisung, he had introduced himself as a student, gym rat, and part-time cashier at a nearby grocery store, opting to take up this job to try something new since it was a seasonal job. You remember not exactly knowing how to react to his introduction, blinking at him for a few, very brief moments before you introduce yourself. 

But when Jisung continued to speak to you, it was rather easy for you to figure out that his dorky introduction was the tip of the iceberg when it came to his personality. He spoke about anything and everything with a sense of child-like wonder, interacted with customers like he’d known them for years, and wrapped their presents like they were to be given to the Royal Family. 

And though, initially, you weren’t exactly looking forward to having your ear being talked off by him each shift, especially since you found the act of wrapping presents relaxing, you found that being talkative was a big part of his charm. Because of him, the long, dreadful hours flew past like nothing—hell, before you knew it, you were actually looking forward to the shifts despite how much you complained about it every morning. 

You suppose this was how you had developed feelings for the boy. Not only was he sweet and apparently good at everything he tried, he was easy and comfortable to be around. 

And for you, that was rare. 

As all shifts go, you both fall into a comfortable rhythm, chatting about random things to pass the time. Somehow you both were lucky enough to not have the big rush of customers that dropped by the mall on the way home from work, still recovering from the rushes last week with customers who pushed for an amount of wrapped presents that seemed to be enough to give to everyone and their mothers. 

You and Jisung were simply given smaller gifts, maybe a bigger box here and there, but most of the presents you were asked to wrap were small and easy, ones that didn’t even take longer than 5 minutes. Considering it was the 21st, it seemed logical that people were buying for quick, last-minute purchases. 

“The amount of old people who buy lube is…” Jisung gags. He had just finished a string of stories about how he’s judged customers based on what they buy and this was how he was choosing to conclude it. Your jaw drops as he looks back at you with a pained expression, “Like I mean, good for them but, the amount of old people, you know?” 

“I mean… ‘tis the season?” You're unsure whether to laugh or gag, “I guess they’re trying to keep the holiday season spicy or something.” You rip a piece of tape from the dispenser, finishing off one of the last presents from a small group given to the booth. 

“Y/N!” Jisung gasps.

“What?” You retort, “You’re the one who brought it up.” You attach a label of the object to the box and place it in a bag that is sitting between you and Jisung. 

“I know, but you’re giving me the image of old people…” He shudders, the bell on his Santa hat jingling, “Okay, okay we need to stop talking about lube and old people.” Jisung finishes his own present and plops it next to your finished present.

You snort, moving on to the next present in the pile and physically cringe at it, “Can you believe people are giving other people lingerie? Let alone make other people wrap it? I don’t even think I should be touching this right now.” Lingerie itself wasn’t the problem here, it was the fact that you knew who gave this to you to wrap and it felt fucking weird for you to be wrapping it.

“It’s not like it’s used,” Jisung points out, gesturing to a tag hanging off of the garment. The set you were working on was the last present for the meantime so Jisung had time to kill, “Touch it all you want.” 

You elbow him, “How about you do it then.” You toss it into his hands and he jumps back, a yelp escaping his lips. His voice echoes across your part of the mall, catching the attention of shoppers strolling past. You clamp your mouth shut to keep yourself from childishly laughing out loud, eyes glossy from holding it back. 

“I–” Jisung gawks at you with a slack jaw and wide eyes, “I can’t believe you just did that!” 

You can't hold back the laughter any longer, and it bursts out of you, drawing more curious glances from passersby, “If you have no problem touching it then go ahead and wrap it.” 

He groans, “Fine.” Jisung steps up and whips out a gift bag, wrapping the lingerie set with tissue paper before plopping it in. Then, he decoratively sticks in more tissue paper to conceal the intimates. When he finishes, he labels it and pushes it in your direction. 

“Thank you,” you say, still recovering from what just happened. You quickly store the present with the others, tucking it beneath the tabletop. “I still honestly don’t understand that… why couldn’t that man just give jewelry or something? A necklace or earrings for a woman is always a safe bet.”

Jisung presses his lips together and he hums, recalling how you said necklaces or earrings were always at the top of your wishlist, simply because you could never get enough of them. “What if she wanted it though?” 

“To each their own,” you shrug, “But making us wrap it?” The lingerie set wasn’t the oddest present you both had to wrap, but it’s been a good week and a half since the last one. 

“That’s fair, I guess,” Jisung snickers, “We’re like, partaking in their–”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you throw a hand over Jisung’s mouth and give him a look of warning. Jisung opens his mouth to speak but you take your thumb and push his chin up to shut it back closed. 

“Ow!” 

“I barely did shit, Ji, don’t be dramatic.” You pat his cheek when you let go of his mouth and he frowns, “You made me bite my tongue.”

“Gross, were you going to lick my hand!?” You look at him with knitted brows and wide eyes, wondering how the hell you even developed feelings for this boy. 

“No?” It comes out more like a question and a sheepish smile on his face indicates that he was lying through his teeth, “Your hand was covering my mouth!”

“You could have just physically moved my arm away from your mouth!” You counter, throwing a soft punch at his arm. 

“You’re mean.” 

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’r–”

“Ahem!” 

You two don’t notice that a customer is standing and waiting for you both to notice her, not a hint of Christmas joy in her eyes. Although you don’t see her feet through the booth, you can tell that she is tapping her foot out of impatience. 

“Oh, we apologize ma’am,” Jisung speaks up, taking a step forward, “How may we help you?” 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Taking your dinner break towards the end of the shift, you leave Jisung alone to manage the booth alone. You waited until it became evident that no more customers were expected to come with an overwhelming number of presents. After being away for a brief thirty minutes, you found Jisung snugly seated on the little step stool tucked away in the corner of the booth.

“Any presents?” you questioned. You shuffle under the gate and scan the inside of the stall, only finding the presents that the two of you had wrapped beforehand. 

“Just that,” Jisung points to a small, hexagonal-shaped box sitting by itself next to the bags of other presents, “But that’s it.” He leans his head back, resting it against the counter’s edge before he closes his eyes, “Man I just want to go home.” 

“One hour to go,” you sing, “Then we can leave.” You huff and scan the area of the mall that surrounded the booth, noticing that there were already a lot fewer people shopping compared to earlier, “Are you bussing again today?” 

You turn your head to look at him, eyes still shut and resting. You couldn’t help but peer at his bottom-heavy set of lips and the way his two front teeth peek out between them... and the way his lashes tickle part of his cheekbones. 

You wonder if Han Jisung knew how pretty his features were. 

“Yeah,” Jisung hums, “You?” 

You answer, “Mmhmm.” And although you and Jisung didn’t take the same bus home, you were still happy to hear that you weren’t going to be waiting alone in the cold for the bus. 

The remaining customers who visited the stall were those who were there to pick up the presents you both wrapped, which were easy one-and-done interactions. 

As the clock ticked down, you and Jisung found yourselves in a comfortable silence, a shift from your usual banter. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but rather a tired one, both of you ready to finish the day and head home. Interacting with tens of different people was exhausting. 

But despite your excitement to actually head home to snuggle up on your couch, your eyes were still flickering back and forth between the mall corridor and the hexagonal box now sitting alone. You go to pick it up, placing it on the tabletop. “Did you get the number for this customer’s gift? Why haven’t they picked it up yet?”

Jisung blinked at the box, sliding it his way, inspecting it as if he had written a name or number on the wrapping paper, “I’m honestly not sure.” “It looks like it’s important,” you frown.

“I’m sure they’ll be back tomorrow if not today,” Jisung grins. He sits the box back down gently and stands almost shoulder to shoulder next to you. 

You hope he’s right because it was odd thinking someone had dropped a present off and didn’t pick it up. Hell, the gift was so small that the owner could have just waited for it to be wrapped. 

When the final hour passed, you both swiftly closed up the booth, tidying up the wrapping paper, tape dispensers, and tags. The box still sat in the same spot that Jisung placed it in. He takes it, “I’ll put this somewhere safe for tomorrow.” 

All you did was nod.

Jisung yawned, his energy visibly drained from the day's work. He picks his bag up after bundling himself up with his winter jacket and scarf. It almost weighs him down, but he regains balance with a shuffle of his feet. 

“Well, that's a wrap,” you say, attempting a pun to lighten the mood. Jisung manages a tired chuckle, rolling his eyes and appreciating the effort. The clattering of shutters from other stores rumble throughout the mall and it’s another indication that the shift was finished. 

“Finally,” he sighs, stretching his arms above his head, “Let's get out of here.”

Exiting the booth together, you and Jisung head towards the exit closest to the bus stop. It wasn’t snowing or windy, but you could predict that the air was going to be cold, so you brace yourself by hiking the collar of your jacket up over your nose.

When you and Jisung slip out through the doors, you immediately feel the chilly evening air biting at the exposed skin on your faces, an aching contrast to the warmth of the mall. Your pockets do nothing to keep your hands warm, feeling air that managed to slip into your pockets. 

“Fuck,” Jisung’s teeth rattle, “Fuck, it’s cold.” His shoulders rise to his ears, his body attempting to keep itself warm. In other circumstances, you would have answered Jisung with something sarcastic like ‘No shit, Sherlock’ or ‘Wait? Really?’, but you were freezing your ass off right now. 

It was so cold that you two couldn’t even talk on the way to the bus stop, legs and feet moving quickly to get there. You could feel your lashes stiffening from the cool air, previously moist from the way your eyes had slightly welled up from the slap of cold to your face. You want the bus to come right now and quickly, but last time you checked, it wasn’t coming for another 10 minutes. 

As you wait for your buses, you steal glances at Jisung, thoughts still occupied with that seemingly abandoned hexagonal box. Your breath forms small clouds in the frigid air as you try to shake off the cold, eyes flickering between the dimly lit bus stop sign and Jisung's bundled figure.

“Y/N?” Jisung’s voice is muffled by his thick scarf, almost sounding like you were imagining it. But the way his eyes blink back at you, you know he really was talking to you. 

“Yeah?” You push your hands deeper into your pockets, seriously regretting not bringing thicker gloves. You need to turn your entire body to look at him, the brim of your toque falling just over your brows. 

You silently watch as Jisung slips his bag off his shoulder, sticking his arm in to pull something out. He rummages for a little bit, pushing things aside before he finally finds what he is searching for. Watching in anticipation, you wait for him to reveal whatever it was.

Jisung’s hands open to present the hexagonal box, still neatly wrapped in the booth’s paper, and he pushes it toward you, holding it out.

Your heart skips a beat, “Jisung, why do you have that? I don’t think we’re allowed to bri—”

Jisung shakes his head and he inches closer, still holding the box out for you to take, “Merry Christmas?” 

You try to process what is going on, shifting your gaze between the box and Jisung’s eyes, “Wait so…” You gently pick the box up from his hand and then look back up at him, “This is for me?” 

The man in front of you nods, “From me.”

The cold air nipping at your fingertips has been long forgotten, “I’m still confused, Ji.”

“Open it,” Jisung says, “I hope you like it.”

“But I didn’t get you anything.”

“Does it look like I care?” Jisung counters, “Open it.”

Your eyes glance up and behind Jisung, making sure that the bus is not on its way to the stop before your fingers begin fumbling with the wrapping paper. The ripping of the wrap fills the silence between you and Jisung, your eyes trained on what was sitting beneath it. 

The box is black with faux leather. Nothing on it indicates what it was. No brand name or anything. But when you shake it, the box rattles in the slightest, indicating something small inside. 

After crumpling the wrapping paper up into your fist, you go to open the lid of the box and set your eyes on a dainty, gold necklace. The pendant was a simple gold heart, no larger than the tip of your index finger, something you’d definitely pick out for yourself.

“Jisung…” you whisper, running the pad of your thumb over the heart, “You didn’t have to get me this… it’s beautiful, but you didn’t need to get me this.” Your arms stretch out to return the shiny necklace back to him, shaking your head. 

“I wanted to,” Jisung declares, “I saw it at the jewelry shop near my gym and thought you’d like it.” 

“I do…” you nod, “Thank you, Ji.” You retract your arms and almost cradle the box in your arms, too lazy to put it into your bag, “I promise you I’ll get you a present too… to say thank you.” Behind him, you can see one of your buses from afar, slowly advancing on the icy roads. You feel a sense of relief when you see it’s your bus, already imagining the warmth the vehicle holds inside. 

“Scratch that thought,” Jisung notices your bus pulling up, too, so he knows he needs to make this quick, “There’s something else you could do to say thank you.”

“What is it?” 

“A date with me?” 

Your eyes narrow and you can’t help but throw a soft punch at his arm, “Han Jisung, is this seriously how you’re asking me out on a date? By wooing me with a necklace?” 

Jisung rubs the spot of contact and he groans, “No?”

“Cause I’d say that it’s a little bit cute…” you grin shyly. 

“Well in that case, yes.” You can hear the smile in Jisung’s voice and you roll your eyes. Of course, this was his plan all along. But you still admit to yourself that it really was cute. 

Your bus finally arrives and halts to a stop right in front of you and Jisung. The driver opens the door and your stiff, frozen joints move you up to get into the vehicle. But before you get on, you quickly turn to Jisung, who’s still waiting for an answer. 

“A date it is then.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi

an: finally got around to finishing this bc I rly didn't think I'd be this busy but it is what it is,,, hope you enjoyed this! up next is Jake!