#I just feel that if I don't reply with the same love and dedication I will come off as rude and make her sad and I really don't want to

[kyouka-supremacy]

--

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Some Dad!Cod Character Scenario and Appreciation Post

Characters In Mind: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.

The original creator of the picture, they also have so many works that are used in so many fanfics as well so please credit her. I found her account here on Tumblr (@ave661) and here is the post.

AFAB!Reader and used pronouns are "you"

Apologies if this is a bit too short but;

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

A/n: I've had a good but also bad week (good thanks to @puff0o0 and other extremely sweet mutuals), it's neutral, I'm not here to rant of any sort but my personal life has not been good. I understand that not everyone will like me but it feels as though everyone hates me, most of those people happen to be at school. Sure I'm not really going to do anything about it because I prefer avoiding conflict but those same people are trying to flip the story around as if I'm the one who hates them when in reality I don't and by being mean to me they're giving me a reason to dislike them. Sure I'm average academically, sometimes I have difficulty pulling my weight in group works and I'm not outstanding in reportings but we all have our difficulties. I just don't understand people who love to hate on others because they have nothing better to do.

This is a word of advice to everyone, don't let others let you feel insignificant, you aren't and you have many talents that make you different from them. (I don't really practice what I preach because I love self-deprication, however I don't want people to feel the way I do because I know what it can cause)

Disclaimers/warnings: OOC??, Pregnancy, Implied birth, Children (Pretty sure that was obvious from the title), People who don't want/hate children be warned.

Short note: This is also a dedication to all the Mistki and Hozier fans out there <3

He was so used to the smell of hospitals, the smell of medication, it always indicated death for him but this was a whole new feeling. It was the opposite of what he has seen most of his life

So much so that he refused to hold them, afraid of potentially hurting the fragile little one. He looked at you as if you were crazy when you tried to hand him the baby, "Come on now love, you can't just avoid holding them forever" you said to him as of it was a life or death situation.

Hesitantly letting you guide him through the proper way to hold them, he felt his breath hitch at the sound of cooing. The first time the baby opened it's eyes, the first thing they saw being their dad.

The moment he looked at the baby sealed it, he was going to protect them their whole life, he would go as far as feeling all the guilt of having blood on their hands again if it meant your baby would be protected and cared for.

The baby was so small that it's little head was practically the size of his palm, he didn't know initially what to do when the baby cried and shocked himself when he managed to make them stop.

Once the baby was old enough to crawl, he'd let the baby crawl all over him. The little one babbling non-sense while he just chuckled and replied as if he understood what the baby was saying. Gods be damned if he misses an important milestone such as their first word or their first time walking.

You'd often wake up to seeing him shirtless snoozing on the couch, the tv playing only ads for home appliances late at night while the baby only in a diaper having skin to skin contact with their dad, his huge hand big enough to support the little one from falling.

He almost cried the first time your baby reached for his face an touched it, resting it's tiny little fingers on his cheek, giving him a gummy smile. His little one unaware that they just healed something they never broke.

He NEVER wants to ever see your little one grow up, though sure it makes more memories with them, sometimes they just wish time stops for a second so they can enjoy the moment longer.

Initially was terrified that he'd pass his trauma down but he realized that wouldn't be possible and he will NOT ever let them go through what he did.

Eventually chose to resign from his work because the risk was far too much, what if he died? He'd leave you and your child to grieve over him? He won't be there for them growing up and he'd miss everything.

Sure he's worked most his life to get where he is now but nothing is ever worth more than spending a lifetime with you and your child together. He's been lonely almost all his life until he met you.

You are his family, his everything. He promised that whatever happens, he'll crawl home to you...

[singmyaubade]

No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)

A/N: First, I apologize for my time writing this; it just had to be perfect! I am so grateful that you all love my story enough to give it so much love and support and practically beg for a part 3; thank you so much. I had no idea how to start and continue this, so please be kind. I really hope you guys enjoy this part, and I hope it's everything you dreamed of <3

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Shh.. don't wake her up!" You heard Lily whisper in your half-asleep state as the sun peeked at you through the blinds.

"It's Marlene's big oger feet," Mary snorted.

"Hey! My feet are not the size of oger feet," Marlene replied, sticking out her tongue.

"Shh!" Lily warned.

You heard the shuffling of paper and steps as you opened your eyes to see your best friends hanging up decorations, a smile appearing on your face immediately.

"Oh, bollocks," Lily sighed, face-palming, "Happy birthday!" She yelled, half annoyed but half happy there was a smile on your face. She embraced you as you sat upright in bed, glad to see your friend's dedication to your birthday.

The rest of them told you a happy birthday, embracing you in a tight hug.

"Wow, I can't believe you actually got Marlene up this early," You said, opening another card they gave you.

"Well, it took a chicken drumstick," Dorcas replied.

"Otherwise, I would've been grouchy, and Y/n would have had a horrible birthday, so really I did it for her," Marlene said as Mary rolled her eyes.

"I wonder what the Marauders have planned, especially James," Lily muttered.

Every year for your birthday, James would give you a grand birthday party and tons of presents. He usually would sneak into your dorm room and surprise you with cannons and the other Marauders, but of course, this year was different.

And coincidentally, your birthday was the same day as the start of winter break, which always meant you had to pack on your birthday.

And every birthday, you had to go over to James's house for your birthday dinner with your families.

Which you were not looking forward to this year.

"Oh shit, sorry, Y/n, I know you don't want to speak about him," Lily apologized.

"It's alright; I'm sure I'll be reminded of him today many times," You replied, getting out of bed, "I can't believe I don't get to spend my birthday at Hogwarts," You said, grabbing clothes from your closet, setting them next to the trunk.

"It does suck, but you can at least be excited about your birthday dinner," Lily replied, closing her trunk.

"Hopefully, it goes well without James hinting to our parents that I hate him and don't want anything to do with him," You angrily said, shoving your clothes in your trunk.

"Do you really hate him, though?" Mary asked, "I mean, you were best friends with him all these years, and now, you utterly hate him,"

"That was before I realized he was cruel and truly considered me anything but something that he couldn't get rid of," You said, "But enough about James, are we still meeting together after Christmas?"

"Of course, your house, Y/n?" Dorcas asked.

You nodded, "But we can't steal my parent's booze again; I'm pretty sure the elves are scared of Marlene,"

"I didn't mean to scare them with my clown impression; it was just too good," Marlene smirked.

"Yeah yeah, for sure," You said, laughing before packing the rest of your clothes.

Suddenly, your parent's owl flew in from the window, delivering you a letter. You opened the envelope and straightened the folded-up letter, which stated:

Dear beloved Y/n,

Your father and I are experiencing a torturous delay from France; we have fought with the conductor multiple times and even considered apparating or the floo. Unfortunately, because of the horrible mangling rabbit, I TOLD your father not to eat, he has been throwing up all evening, and we can't apparate, and the nearest floo is eight hours away. You will stay with the Potters tonight and tomorrow night because too many wards might injure you in the house that the elves can't disable, but we hope to return before then. We want you to have the most incredible birthday and love you so much; we are incredibly sorry to miss it. Please forgive us.

Sincerely,

Your proud parents.

"What does the letter say?" Lily asked, glancing at you the folding her socks.

"My parents are stuck in a delay and can't make it to my birthday dinner in time, or even tomorrow," You shrugged.

"I am so sorry, Y/n," Lily said, embracing you.

You hugged her back. "It's okay; at least I have the Potters.

"Are you sure you will be okay?" Dorcas asked.

"Yeah, you can stay with me if you want," Mary offered.

"No, it's fine." You sighed, "They will be hurt if I skipped the opportunity to continue the tradition, and my mom would wring my head off if I didn't go," You joked.

"Okay, well, let us know," Lily smiled.

The whole part of you was sincerely upset; you didn't want your parents to not be there for your birthday. Even worse, you weren't on good terms with James, which only made for an awkward dinner with his family.

But you understood and knew your parents would make it up to you, and you know how guilty they felt; you just missed them.

You chose to keep your mind off it and keep packing until it was time to go to the train.

"When does this bloody train come?" Marlene shivered, "I'm fucking freezing,"

"I told you to bring your jumper," Mary sighed.

"I didn't think I really needed it," Marlene replied, gritting her teeth.

"I knew you would be cold," You said, giving her one of your extra jumpers.

"You know, Y/n, I'll kick Potter's bloody ass for you; just remember that," Marlene suggested, causing you to laugh.

"Speaking of the devil," Dorcas muttered under her breath.

You turned around to see James looking straight into your eyes. You had to admit that James had never been so intimidating. His eyes looked as if they had darkened, and he looked as if you were his Slytherin competitor in Quidditch.

"Are you ready?" He asked, his voice sounding deeper.

He didn't even say Happy Birthday.

"I'm gonna sit with them," You blankly stated, not an ounce of kindness in your voice.

"It's better if we sit together," James demanded, "Otherwise, we won't be able to find each other in the crowd when the train stops," He explained to you slowly as if you were a child, which only pissed you off.

"Are you fucking mishearing me, or are you just delusional?" You asked, "I said I'm gonna sit with my friends and not assholes. I don't even consider an acquaintance." You sneered, your voice sounding so harsh that it shocked your friends, "Please do me a favor and leave me the fuck alone."

"Are you really gonna be an uptight bitch?" James asked, a cocky smile on his face, "I mean, Jesus, I like it better when your mouth is shut or perhaps filled." Some of you knew that James was just being an asshole because he was hurt, which is what he always did, even when he was a kid, but the only thing about it was that he only did it to you.

That only angered you more before you slapped him for his rude comment, "Don't you fucking dare speak to me like that."

"Or what?" He stepped closer

"Okay, guys!" Lily stepped in, "We will approach you five minutes before the train stops, and you guys will walk together in peace, hopefully," Lily dragged you away as you glared at James.

"I can't believe you actually slapped him," Marlene said, following after you guys, "I mean, after what he said, I would've punched him so hard in the di-"

Mary cut her off, "Jokes aside, are you okay, Y/n? I mean, I have never seen James so mean and awful towards you or anyone for that matter,"

You sighed, "Yeah, I'm fine, I just don't get why he is so mean to me when he was the one who broke my trust in the first place,"

"What did he do?" Marlene asked.

The rest of the group looked at Marlene as if she had killed a unicorn. Nobody had really asked what James had done but considering your resentment towards him, it must’ve been unforgiving.

You hesitated, “He just didn’t say some nice things about me.” You answered, hoping to move on.

“Like what kind of things?” Marlene pried.

You could tell she was just curious, but you were so humiliated by what James had said that you didn’t even want to tell your closest friends.

Dorcas elbowed Marlene, causing her to hiss in pain before she said, “It isn’t our business if you don’t want to tell us, Y/n.”

“Yeah,” Lily agreed, “Maybe it’s better it is between you and James.”

The rest of the group agreed including Marlene who was hunched over in pain and verbally cursing Dorcas for the hard elbow.

You muttered a “thanks” before heading onto the train. You sat by the window, staring outside to the foggy mountains.

You didn’t want to admit it but you did miss James and how much he cared for your birthday. Sometimes it seemed like it was his birthday with how high he held your birthday.

You didn’t understand why he couldn’t just try to even figure out what he had done or fight for your forgiveness, he just chose to be angry at you.

You didn't even want to think about him. Why does your whole life revolve around him?

"Anything from the trolley dearies?" The Trolley Witch asked.

"Chocolate frogs," Marlene said.

"Jumbling Jellies," Lily answered.

"I'll take Fizzing Wheezies," You said, paying her 10 galleons for you all.

"Y/n, you don't ha-" Lily was about to say before Marlene shushed her.

Lily glared as Marlene spoke, "Bless your heart, Y/n," She smiled as you laughed.

As Marlene started devouring her chocolate frog, you couldn't help but remember how you and James would share Fizzing Wheezies every time on your birthday on the train.

Practically tradition.

You wondered if he thought the same. If he was relishing in the memories.

Your thinking was halted when Dorcas set a hand on your thigh as you smiled, laying your head on her shoulder. You closed your eyes, trying to prepare for the day ahead.

--

"Y/n," Someone lightly shook you by your shoulder as you looked to see Lily. She was waking all of the girls up as the train stopped.

You yawned, getting up to grab your luggage. James was right that there would be traffic, so you had to rush off, saying your goodbyes to your best friends.

"Promise to write?" Lily asked, looking near tears.

"Lils, it's only a week," You snorted as she gave you a stern look.

"A week I won't get to see you," She hugged you tighter as you smiled and returned it.

"See you before Christmas?" She asked.

You rubbed her shoulder, "See you before Christmas."

"Promise me you won't forgive Potter," Marlene sighed, causing you to laugh.

"Do you have no faith in her at all?" Mary asked next to Marlene.

"Do you have no faith in her at all?" Marlene mocked, causing Mary to glare.

"Okay, okay!" You laughed at the both of them, "Only if you promise you both will stop bickering," You hugged them both.

They glared at each other as Dorcas spoke, "Forgetting someone?"

You grinned, "Never," You hugged her, kissing her on the cheek.

You were waiting for her to say, "Give him hell?" You asked as she laughed.

"I think you know what to do," She encouraged before you exited, waving goodbye to all of them.

Even though it was only a week, you still hated being away from your best friends. They were like your third family besides your actual and the Potters.

You saw the back of Sirius's head as you approached him, considering he lived with the Potters.

He turned around before you could tap him, picking you up, "Happy birthday Y/n!" He said, kissing your cheek as you yelped.

"Okay, thank you, Sirius, put me down!" You giggled.

He put you down as you smoothed your clothing, "So where's Potter?' You asked.

He smirked, "Only last name? Ice cold Y/n." You didn't respond, so he assumed you were waiting for an answer, "He went to the toilets,"

You hummed, silently tapping your foot on the pavement, only hearing the ruckus around you both.

"Excited for your birthday dinner?" He asked, partly ready for the drama.

"Very," You sarcastically said.

"Hey, Mom and Dad aren't too bad," He said.

"We both know Euphemia and Fleamont aren't the Potters I despise," You muttered.

"Well, for your sake, I'll make him behave," He sent a charming smile your way.

"What would I do without you, Black?" You rolled your eyes.

"Probably be miserable," He answered, causing you to laugh.

"What are we laughing about?" James said, not even a smidge of excitement in his tone.

Your usual mad facade slipped back in as you grabbed your luggage and started heading toward the car. You could hear Sirius laughing behind you.

You saw Euphemia and Fleamont waiting by the car like they had usually done since Sixth year since James told them to stop coming inside because of his newfound "popularity."

Your face lit up immediately, excited to see two of your favorite people worldwide.

You embraced Euphemia, giving the tightest hug you could and giving Fleamont a kiss on the cheek while they asked about your studies. You could see James rolling his eyes both audibly and physically.

"Okay, Mother, I don't think Y/n likes all the questions," James said, leaning his head on the window while his father drove.

Sirius was in between the two of you, snoring asleep. Considering the train ride, you didn't even know why he was tired.

"I don't mind at all," You said, smiling as James glared at you.

You knew that Euphemia could feel the tension between you and James, but she ignored it, "So Y/n, I have made you something extraordinary." Euphemia said.

"And that is?" You asked, knowing she wouldn't tell you.

"I guess you will have to find out tonight during dinner." She sweetly said, winking at you.

You smiled to yourself, relieved your birthday wouldn't be that bad.

--

You entered the house that you had been over to so many times, admiring it fully.

"James will show you your room," Euphemia said, rubbing your back as you smiled, trying not to show your discomfort about James.

James didn't even wait for you before heading up the steps. Thankfully, he carried your luggage because he knew Euphemia would berate him.

"It's in there," He lazily said, not even opening the door before walking downstairs.

Jerk.

You grunted, lifting your heavy suitcase inside the room.

You admired the room, which looked like it was made for you. It was warm and tremendous for a guest room. It had all of your favorite colors and smells.

It was perfect.

You decided to nap before dinner, considering you had no one to talk to, and you were partly tired after the drive anyway. You knew an elf would get you when it was time.

--

"Ms." A frail voice said as your eyes fluttered open to see Dot, the Potter's elf that had been there since you had first moved in.

"Oh, hello, Dot," You spoke lightly, yawning.

"Ms. Potter tells Dot to inform you it's time for dinner," Her small voice said.

"Thank you, Dot, I appreciate it," You thanked before the elf nodded her head and apparated out.

You stretched, wearing a semi-formal dress, one of your favorites.

You headed down the stairs as you smelt the food radiating from the dining room. It was all of your favorites; it was pretty extraordinary. Ms. Potter was always the type to blow you off of your feet, regardless.

Your face lit up, "This is stunning, Ms. Potter," You looked at the glowing lights.

Euphemia smiled, "I'm glad you love it,"

You sat next to James with Sirius next to him. His face had certainly softened, but he was clenching his jaw when you sat beside him.

"Now," Euphemia started, "I know we usually do gifts after dinner, but we all had such beautiful surprises for you that we couldn't wait."

Euphemia started first, giving you one of your favorite movies since you were a kid, except the movie wasn't available anywhere.

You rose excitedly, embracing her, "How did you get this?" You asked, smiling at the CDs.

"A friend of mine is good friends with the director, and he happened to have one last copy," She answered as you excitingly hugged her before returning to your seat.

"Thank you, Ms. Potter," You looked at Euphemia, "I love it,"

She nodded before Fleamont gave you his gift. It was a beautiful crystal from Bejing.

You thanked him for the beautiful gem before Sirius offered you his gift. He gave you a perfume that smelled of fire whisky but wasn't actually fire whisky.

Part of you wanted to know how he did it, but you decided to save it for later as you thanked him, kissing him on the cheek as he cheered.

Last was James, who picked up the gift from under the table. He had looked you in the eyes, not a set of resentment in them at all.

Your breath hitched as he gave you a stuffed animal your grandfather gave you when you were nine. You had cried for a week because you had lost it and teared up when anyone mentioned it.

He gave it to you as it looked brand new and was cleaner than when you had it when you were nine.

When you pressed on the heart, it always said "I love you" in your grandfather's voice and even had your name on the collar.

You teared up, "How did you find it?"

He stuttered, "I-I found it in the treehouse in the corner,"

"I thought the treehouse was infested with Clockonuts," You said.

He laughed, "Well, I risked my life to get it back,"

Every sense of anger you had felt had disappeared; he had done something that was so out of his actions lately that it made you miss him.

"Thank you," You genuinely said.

He gave you a simple nod before you began eating. Conversations started after, talking about school.

"So, any boys, Y/n?" Euphemia asked as James dropped his fork on his plate, making a huge sound that caused you to look at him.

You cleared your throat, "Well, I am trying not to focus on that right now,"

"Except for Carrows," James muttered.

"Who's Carrows?" Euphemia asked, genuinely curious.

You took a bite of your carrot, "Um, well," You swallowed, "He's just a friend I have."

"I don't sit on my friend's laps," James scoffed, causing you to glare at him.

"Well, I don't call my friends sluts," You spat.

"James Fleamont Potter, what did you call her?" Euphemia added.

James ignored her, "Well, when your best friend is acting like one just because you don't fancy her, I think she deserves it,"

Mate-" Sirius chimed in, but you were faster.

"When have I ever fancied you?" You asked, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of that knowledge.

"Y/n, you were practically obsessed with me," He ridiculed, "I couldn't get away from you, and the only time I could was when I dated Lily; it was the best months of my life," His face looked shocked after he said the last words.

You couldn't tell if he meant it, but it hurt you badly. All those years of friendship were fake; he couldn't tolerate you.

"That's enough!" Euphemia said; even Sirius was silent.

A tear ran down your cheek, "I'm actually not feeling well; I'm gonna go to bed." You said, placing your napkin on the plate in front of you.

You heard Euphemia berating James as you ran up to your room. In some ways, you didn't understand why James did everything he did if he hated you so much.

Why did he give you that gift? Why did he always call you and get mad when you didn't want to be his friend? Did you ever mean anything to James Potter?

And if you did, why did he have to ruin your birthday?

A/N: If you hated this, I apologize.

taglist: @feast0nmeee @queerqueenlynn @diasnohibng @somebodys-enola @kiwichixta @queerpanickingrn @strnqer @virgogaia @ddddawson @lxriearxella @losa12308 @soosheee @lokifriggason1 @kenqki @volturissideslut @lmfaograyc @melllinaa @iluvfetuszarry @lovelywebber @violetbossler @moonys0chocolate @ourloveisforthelovely @stormymind14 @abq654 @cr1stinx @4-everm-0-re @icantwaittoliveandlearn @aceofheartzzz @ashkuuuu @i-dont-know-me-either @slayingqueenchal @hero-ically @mikeikax @extrainsanity @roryctrlshift @helloitsmeeeeeee @@dittos-blog-dylanobrien @drstargirl @17luvr @eviesmith1810 @fluffycookies22 @valencia-rou @watersquirtpewpewboomm @kentucky-criedfricken @lokisbitch13 @evangelinejxy @youroutdoorbf @ok-boke @madison-rebel @sunshineangel-reads @feast0nmeee @rey26 @prongsprincessworld@coolerthananicecubeeee @taintedxkisses

[oweninadaydream]

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐭 𝟏 || 𝐅.𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : Say Don't Go (Taylor's version) (From The Vault) or 4 times you say 'I love you' and Finnick says nothing back.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 : Finnick Odair x reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : 2K

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 : angst/fluffy ending (in part 2), (not really) unrequited love?, insecure reader, jealousy, TW: sexual exploitation (second story).

𝓪/𝓷 : This is my first time writing for Finnick and I'm so exited for you guys to read it!!! Hope you enjoy this fic :) Part two is already posted!!! You can find it here. If there are any mistakes I'm sorry , English is not my first language.

𝟣. 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒 

The quietness of the night was only being disturbed by the sound of crickets and mockingbirds. The cold breeze was the only thing keeping you awake. Well, that and Finnick. You were seated next to him on the porch of your house which was right next to his. Three years had passed since you won the 67th Hunger Games and you still weren't used to the gloomy sight that was Victors Village, especially not at night, when the solitude and darkness of the streets made you remember things you thought (or hoped) were long gone in your memory but that deep down you knew would always haunt you, until the day you died.

Finnick scooted closer in order to share his blanket with you "Stop being so prideful, I can see you shaking" he scolded you for being so stubborn. " I did it on purpose, I just wanted to make you cuddle me" you joked, as it was normal in your friendship.

He had been your mentor the year you were reaped , you got along well but didn't become that close then. You knew that those were his second games as a mentor and you could feel that he wasn't emotionally prepared to bond with you just to see you die days later. Still, he prepared you the best way he knew and was always kind towards you. After you emerged victorious from that nightmare, the Capitol decided to profit off of your charm ; you were too young, scared and lost, just like Finnick once had been (and still was). That's when he took you under his wing , and you would forever feel grateful for that.

He was your rock, your light within the dark, your safe person and he saw you as his happy place, someone he could rely on, his partner in crime and the person with whom he shared his deepest thoughts, his dreams, his nightmares and hopes for an utopian future. Finding each other seemed something simply destined to be. You needed each other in ways that no one else could wrap their head around.

Despite having that special and heartwarming relationship with him, you wanted more. You were utterly and madly in love with him. Your infatuation had begun during training and only grew stronger after he approached you after the games. The thing between you was so fragile, so special that you had never thought of confessing your love. The possibility of driving him away caused your heart a kind of ache worse than any stab received back in the Arena. Your feelings felt selfish, how could you want more? Your greedy passion would ruin everything (or so you thought), so you settled for what you had.

On the inside, you knew he wasn't the kind of man that would dismiss your feelings rudely and that he would continue to consider you his friend , but it just wouldn't be the same, and seeing your dynamic change in such a way would be a more fatal fate than dying at the games.

" The way they're shining, how beautiful" he quietly mumbled loud enough for you to hear. "I know, the stars look unreal tonight" you agreed while staring completely mesmerized to the night sky. "I was looking at your eyes" you turned to see that he wasn't in fact stargazing like you were. You were out of words. He was usually flirty and he never ran out of lovely words to dedicate to you, but you still reacted as if it were the first time. "Charming as always, dear" you replied as you rested your head on his chest. He moved so you could be more comfortable and you wanted to stop time at that exact moment.

" Thank you for always being there for me" he said in a more serious tone. " You know that I'd do anything for you. Are you okay? Where is this coming from?" you asked with a worried frown adorning your face. "These past few days apart have been rough and it made me appreciate you more" he confessed timidly. How privileged were you to be able to see him in his most vulnerable state. The moon, his hands holding yours, the heat you felt on your face, it was simply too much.

"FINNICK!" a blood-curdling scream came on the scene, startling you both. He quickly stood, as he had already identified the person behind such a yell. "ANNIE?!?!? WHAT'S WRONG?!?!?"

Annie was the victor of the last Hunger Games. She had been mentored by Finnick just like you, but unlike with you, Finnick had rapidly grown fond of her ever since they first met. You knew you shouldn't have thought too much of it, but your mind was your worst enemy. You couldn't stop yourself from imagining a very near future where he chose her over you , leaving you behind and all alone in this world. You liked her : she was kind, delicate but strong and very beautiful, but for those very same reasons you were becoming jealous of her and her chances of getting together with your best friend.

Annie appeared in front of your porch wrapped in a blanket and trembling while sobbing. " They're gonna get me" "Hey hey Annie c'mon, no one's gonna hurt you anymore, you know I'll make sure of it" How caring was Finnick, it was just natural for him to become the protector in every situation. "O-okay" Annie said with little confidence in her voice "Would you stay with me tonight? I had a really bad nightmare" her doe eyes had the reflection of the full moon in them ; it truly was a breath-stealing sight "Sure thing darling, I'll be there in a second, wait for me at home, all right? It's okay " his soothing voiced and calmed her down enough to return to her house by herself.

He turned around to look at you "I'm sorry, I have to go" "I know, Finnick, it's okay" you assured him, even though you were shocked by the term of endearment used for her, as it took Finnick quite a while to refer to you as sweetheart, honey or your favorite, love.

What was wrong with you? That poor girl had just got out of the games and was terrified out of her mind after dreaming about a traumatic experience she had recently been through (just like you did in you day) and the only thing you could think about was how jealous you were because she was being comforted by Finnick in such an intimate and caring way, because she had his full attention and she would be the one lured to sleep by his calloused hands running through her hair that night. You were not thinking logically and you lost control of your actions.

"Hey" you shouted to catch his attention, as he had already begun to leave towards Annie's house "I love you Finn, I just wanted you to know" you confessed as your froze in place . You told each other how much you loved each other all the time, but it had never been like this : not under that light, not with all that sentiment in your eyes and definitely not with such a voice tone. It was clearly a confession and you could't believe what you had just done.

He stared and smiled, transmitting you his appreciation for such kind words and he continued the way to his destination. Oh fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck. He hadn't interpreted your words as you spilling your guts about your feelings, it was just a friendly 'I love you' to him. Annie was perfect for him, you could never give him that sweet innocent love you believed Finnick deserved. The anxiety quickly transformed into anguish and you went back inside to prepare yourself for a night full of tears and stupid hypothetical scenarios about them. About him.

𝟤. 𝐼𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒

Looking around the enormous gardens you couldn't spot a single person you genuinely cared about. This Capitol party, as the previous ones, were filled with members of high society that gazed at you and the rest of victors as if you were exotic wild animals.

Reaching your secret hiding spot, you felt yourself letting your guard down. Even if distracted, you noticed the warm hand on your shoulder. You spun on your heels to identify the person behind that unexpected and yet comforting touch. Of course, Finnick Odair. Your confident, your best friend, your protector and the love of your life (role that's he's unaware of). "Shit Finnick, don't do that!" you playfully reprimanded him while smacking his chest. He pretended to be hurting but ended up laughing at your little tantrum.

"Wow, Cinna has outdone himself, you look charming my dear" he said as he gently took your hand to make you spin and admire the fine clothes you were dressed in that evening. Based on the pink blush that adorned his cheeks you quickly arrived to the conclusion that he was far from being sober and you didn't blame him, these events were unbearable if not intoxicated. "You're not bad yourself, Odair" .

The two of you danced, talked, drank more than you'd be able to remember the next day and flirted, a lot. Your heart couldn't take one more touch nor one more compliment from this man . "There's something you're not telling me, I can see it in your pretty face" he commented while hugging you from behind. He'd always known everything about you, so that remark was not surprising. Still, your heart started beating at an alarming speed and you felt the sweat coming out from your shaky hands.

What if you told him? Based on the spark in his eyes during the party you could only assume he was at least interested in you as more than a friend. You were intoxicated and wrapped between his arms, what if you just told him? "I... I love... you..." you mumbled while closing your eyes as if that would make you invisible to him. The deafening silence brought out your worst fear : rejection. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. You've fucked up real bad this time. You turned around to face him and get this done as fast as possible.

That's when you realized : he hadn't heard you confessing your most cherished secret. You had an opportunity to go back in time, to act as if nothing had happened. You couldn't risk losing him. You locked eyes with him and Finnick tilted his head to the side in drunken confusion as he hadn't caught on to what you had so shyly whispered. Smiling sympathetically you shook your head as if to not give importance to what had been previously said. He didn't give too much though to your dismissive answer. "Would you like another drink, love?" His characteristic smirk accompanied the proposal perfectly, inviting you to give in ; as always, you couldn't deny him anything.

Before you had the chance to approach the drinks table , one of Finnick's regular clients grabbed him by the waist and whispered something into his right ear. His eyes suddenly darkened and his once relaxed features stiffened significantly. You already knew what was about to happen. You were no stranger to the services President Snow forced him to provide to Panem's elite. In fact, you were another of the poor miserable souls in charge of satisfying every desire of anyone who was wealthy enough to afford the luxury of laying with a victor.

Telling the wealthy woman to wait at their usual meeting place, he shook her off. Finnick approached you, feeling guilty and not wanting to part from your side. After a single chaste kiss on your left cheek, he left in the same direction as his client. You let out a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding and tried to prevent the tears from falling. As common as this was, it never got easier for neither of you.

Later that night you found yourself in a similar position as Finnick. The man caressing your body didn't pay any attention to the way you were spacing out and you felt thankful for that. Your mind was elsewhere, replaying over and over again the moment you almost told Finnick how in love you were with him and wondering what would have happened if you had had the courage to repeat those three words just a little bit louder . But it doesn't matter, not anymore. He was drunk and so were you, nothing sincere would have come out of his mouth at that time and you highly doubt sober him would have corresponded your feelings anyway. If only things were different.

[l0ve-bug-m1les]

hii I was wondering if you could write a

miles morales x male! reader

where the two kiss because they’re curious about their sexuality and that leads to them finding out they aren’t exactly as straight as they initially thought

Ahhhh this is such a good idea!!! Thank you so much!!

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

The Answer Sitting in Front of Me

Miles Morales x Male!Reader

Summary: All questions have an answer to find. You just didn’t think you’d find yours in your best friends lips…

Warnings: No actual warnings, just two teenagers figuring themselves out!

It’s the final class of the day, and you’re struggling to stay awake. This isn’t like you, considering the fact you normally go to bed at a decent time so at the end of the day, you’re pretty awake. But today was different. Or rather, last night was different. Recently, you’ve been having…doubts about yourself. Specifically your sexuality. So to—hopefully—get your answer, you spent all night on Google searching up different tests, articles, and videos to answer your burning question. But alas, flashy Buzzfeed quizzes aren’t the remedy you hoped for. So now you’re just here. Tired, ready to get back to the dorms, and still unsure.

A crumpled up piece of paper lands onto your desk. You know exactly who it’s from as you open the note and read it.

"Hey, you don't look so good. Are you alright?”

“Damn, I look so tired you can tell from behind me..” You reply, and ball the note back up as you nonchalantly stretch your arms and drop the note onto his desk. This is how close you and Miles are. It’s easy to tell how the other is feeling just from body language. But at the same time, it wouldn’t take a genius to tell you’re pretty out of it today. You patiently wait for his reply as your teacher drones on and on about something you’ve forgotten about and, frankly, don’t care for. The note returns.

“Yeah. But for real, you’re normally pretty awake when we’re about to leave. What’s wrong?”

You think for a long time. You couldn’t possibly just tell him you’re going through a sexuality crisis! It’d put your relationship in jeopardy! A sigh escapes your lips as you try to think of a bluff, only to scrap the idea knowing Miles would catch it and hound you until you cave in. But what could you possibly say? “Oh, yeah, i think I’m gay and stayed up all night thinking about it. No biggie.” Yeah, right. But at the same time, he opened up to you about him being Spider-Man, so why can’t you just explain your problem to him? “Because he’d hate you.” is the lie your brain is plagued with. You know Miles isn’t homophobic and you know he’d probably just try to help you out. You’ve been through thick and thin with him. He can trust you, and you can trust him.

You realize you’re taking too long when another note flies onto your desk. You don’t read it and just answer the other one: “It’s kinda complicated. Swing by my room when you get a chance, alright?” You toss it back and refocus your attention to the lesson.

It'll be alright.

Right?

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

Time flies and you’re now sitting at your desk in your dorm. Your roommate’s off to who knows where, so you’re by yourself just waiting for that fateful tap on your window from Miles. Normally after school he’ll do some spider stuff before coming back and chilling out for the rest of the day, most of the time with you. That is, unless some guy tries to wreck havoc on Brooklyn, and it’s up to Miles to take them down. As much as it sucks when he has to leave, you admire how dedicated and passionate he is about doing what’s right and protecting what he loves most. You also appreciate how much he’s helped you throughout the school year. High school is no joke, and there have been some times when you felt like all was hopeless. But with Miles there, you came out of those slumps for the better. You also admire the way his eyes shine with that cheeky glow when he says an exceptionally cheesy joke, with that charming smile to go with it. And his kinda cute laugh and—

Oh no.

You groan and lean back in your chair. It’s those thoughts again. The very thoughts that have you so tired and confused. The line between admiration for guys and attraction towards guys has been blurred and now you’re not sure if there even is a difference for you. You close your eyes and continue to think before a shadow blocks out the sun and you hear a knock at the window. “Here we go..” you think to yourself as you unlock the window and open it for Miles.

"How you been?" Miles says as he steps through with that same sweet enthusiasm. He’s not in his Spider-Man suit so you figure all went well. “I’ve just been chilling out,” you say and sit back down, “nothing too exciting.”

He hums in response before taking a seat on your bed. “So what was it you needed to explain that was so complicated? Don’t tell me you’re having an identity crisis!” he jokes. You don’t smile because that’s exactly what it is. He notices the change in your demeanor and grows worried. “Ah..I see,” he looks over you for any hints as to what’s bothering you, “uhm…would you feel comfortable explaining?” he asks.

You take a long moment to think. Is this really a good idea? Should you even tell him? It’s not like you’re confessing to him so bad how could it be? You take a slow, long breath in, and release it just as slow. “I think….i think i like guys…” You finally say. “And i spent all night trying to figure that out, which is why i was so tired in class today.”

Well there it is. It’s out.

You both sat in silence and stared at each other for a long moment. Miles looked like he was in disbelief. Great, you blew it. You go to try and reverse the damage before Miles speaks up.

“Wait, really?! You too?!” He exclaims much to your surprise. You too? Wait so does he…

“You’ve been thinking the same thing?” You ask him.

“Yeah! Like, all the time!”

This is some news. You thought he was gonna try to leave and awkwardly forget about the situation. Never did you consider the possibility of him thinking the same thing. But now what? You know he’s possibly not straight like you, but what are you supposed to do with this information? Honestly you didn’t think you’d make this far. “So,” you speak up, “what now? I mean, we’ve got the same problem. How do we solve it?” A good move on your end. Not too leading, but leading enough to keep the conversation going without you both just changing the subject.

“Uhm…have you ever kissed a girl before?” He asks, his eyes avoiding yours.

“No, why?"

"Well, i was just thinking we could..." he trails off, hoping you get the memo.

"Think we could—“ you’re cut off by the realization hitting you— “Oh…i…get what you’re saying. Kiss and compare how it feels when we kiss a girl, right?”

He sheepishly nods. “Yeah, but neither of us have kissed a girl so it wouldn’t work.” His eyes fall to the floor, and you’re stuck looking at the wall. A kiss? Would that really work? Maybe neither of you need to have kissed a girl—or anyone else for that matter—to see compare how it feels when you kiss a boy. You’re a boy. He’s a boy. Why should you have any prior experience? But is it a good idea? What if you like it, but he doesn’t? There’s only one way to find out..

Forget words. You get up and stand in front of Miles. Your hands find a spot on his face and they stay there as you look deep into his eyes. A question. A silent way of asking for permission when words aren’t good enough. He nods and you lean in, gently bringing his face to yours.

After what feels like an eternity, your lips meet. At first you’re both hesitant, but it’s as if a spark went through you both as you relax and lean in to the kiss. Miles holds your hands on his face and let’s the kiss linger for a moment longer than you both thought it’d last. It’s the sweetest first kiss one could have. The world only starts to spin again when you both pull away, practically breathless.

"Did…did that answer your question?" Miles asks, his voice soft.

"Yeah. Did it answer yours?”

Miles nods and leans in again for another kiss with more confidence. His hands find yours and he brings you down onto the bed to sit beside him, before slowly pulling away again.

“Yeah…” he breathes.

You’re a lot more awake now.

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

[sturn3]

𓂃 ࣪˖ situationship with athlete!matt &cheerleader!reader ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

★ no one knew about you two.

★ matt had quite a busy schedule. trying to balance out his football &youtube career and his grades all in one. so he wasn't looking for anything serious...

★ every game you'd steal glances at one another. whenever he'd catch you looking, you'd turn around and resume to your conversation with the other cheerleaders. when you'd catch him looking ,he'd turn around and kick the ball and shoot a goal trying to impress you.

★ for someone that didn't want to a relationship with you, he sure fought over you, a lot. picking fights with everyone in the locker rooms that would make comments about you in a sexual manner. or attack his opponents that he previously peeped trying to get a conversation out of you. even if he didn't want anything serious with you, he didn't want anyone else to have you either.

★ safe to say, he always led you on. dedicating secret goals to you at every game, texting you past 10pm to meet up, whispering sweet nothings to you just so he could have you for the moment.

★ after the big game day, you rushed out to meet him in the dark parking lot ,immediately recognizing him leaning against his truck. he looked amazing. wet hair from the shower he must've just taken, simple white tee that was tight around his biceps, defining them even more and some grey sweatpants.

★ when he saw you approaching him, he felt as if the air in his lungs had ben knocked out. every time he sees you, he swears ,you get prettier. finally, you reached him and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "You did so good today, handsome." you praised, and he gave you a shy smile.

★ as soon as you guys got in the car, all that could be heard were your heavy breaths and skin slapping.

★ when your passionate moments came to an end, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by your emotions. instantly, you started thinking maybe you should distance yourself.

★ a few weeks after that...

★ you were at a house party to celebrate your school's victory. you ignored matt like the plague. stopped replying to his texts, stopped answering his calls, not viewing his stories and changing paths every time you crossed him. that truly pained him. so, when he saw you stroking someone's bicep and giggling at someone else's joke, he saw red. wanting to drag you away from here and punch this dude. HIS girl laughting at another man's joke. ridiculous.

★ when you'd finally had enough of that random dude whose name you honestly could not remember for the life of you, you went to sit outside on the porch.

★ matt took that as an opportunity to talk to you. he hated that you ghosted him as if he meant nothing.

★ "what do you want, Matt?" you said as he stood behind you. he was surprised at how you could feel his presence. "to talk," he said.

★ "i don't believe we have anything to say." you replied as you got up, at the same time pulling your skirt down as it rode up from the movement, you began to walk away.

★ as one could imagine, matt had enough. he ran after you and grabbed your hand to pull you against him. suddenly being chest to chest with him, you were so close you could feel his breath, you were so close you thought he could hear your heart about to explode.

"why do you keep running away from me?"

"cause i don't wanna get hurt."

"so, you resort to hurting me instead??"

"look, matt, i'm sorry, i can't do this." you said again as you began to walk away from him for the hundredth time.

"no ,stop." he said, pulling you back in "you don't get it. i'm in love with you."

"no, matt. you're not."

★ as soon as you said that, he grabbed your face in his two hands to pull you in for a passionate kiss. if you thought that any kiss you had previously shared was good, this one was better than all of them combined.

"you better not be messing with me, matthew. i KNOW people," you threatened with a smile on your face as you lay your head upon his chest outside the party.

✧ ﾟ୨ৎ*💋🍒🎱⋆｡ﾟ

^ lowkeyyyy inspired 💋💋

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐭 𝐎𝐮𝐭 ~ 𝐩𝐭. 𝐨𝐧𝐞🤍

𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

word count: 1.1k

genres: established friendship

warnings: voluntary usage of sir, desperation, gentle!dom!matt, slight blasphemy, biting, slight choking.

notes from bambi: no use of y/n, poc friendly, first work, please enjoy!

pt. two here, pt. three here

“MATT CAN YOU COME HERE?”

“WHAT.”

“JUST GET IN HERE!”

“Do I have to?”

“YES UGH.”

Matt opened the door to his bedroom. “What do you want, kid.”

You lay curled up on his bed, wearing an oversized tee and faded blue underwear hidden underneath his plaid bed covers, staring intently at your phone screen. “I've been trying to figure this out for a solid twenty minutes and I need your help.”

“What's up?” He settled on the bed next to you, slinging an arm behind his head.

“So I’m reading this smut thing right.”

“...Sure, why not,” Matt said, tossing his hand up in exasperation at the apparent lack of anything sacred.

You grinned, enjoying his moment of discomfort. You normally went to him for sex advice, especially after a rather awkward encounter last summer left no room for privacy in your friendship, and it served to make the two of you closer in almost every way. Shaking the memory away, you dial back in. “I don't understand the position they're in right now.”

“Hate when that happens. Lemme see?”

You handed the phone over, picking at a nail in the absence of mental stimulation. Looking around his room, you sighed, feeling at home in the familiar space. His wall decor, all woodsy-themed, the handful of Liam Neeson photos still clinging to the wall, and a new addition from you and Chris’s combined efforts to make a Lego brown bear figure - it turned out pretty good, and Chris loved it so much he dedicated a whole Instagram post to ‘Scruffy the Bear’. 

“What the fuck…” Matt muttered, and you turned back towards him. 

“Mm?”

“This makes no sense. How are her ankles-”

“THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT. WHERE DID THEY COME FROM?”

“I'm invested now. Come here.” Matt leaned forward and patted the bed space in front of him, still staring, brow furrowed, at the offending device.

“Ouuu, what are you gonna do to me?” you snarked, languidly making your way across the checkered plaid.

“Shut up. Okay so she…no. They started out… facing each other? Why?”

“No idea,” you replied, sitting criss-cross in front of Matt, nudging his outstretched legs to the same position. He leaned forward, elbow on his knee, still reading. “ It says, ‘Her ankles crossed in an x behind him, and he…’ Okay, so like…”

Matt pulled his knees up, separating his legs. “Come here, I think she's sitting right in front of him, and her legs are wrapped around his, like, middle.”

“Sure,” you said, getting into position, “But where are his legs?”

“I'm assuming they're under hers? Beside hers??” Matt said, annoyed at the dismal lack of description. “But how would I know?”

He slid his legs underneath yours, his hands going behind his back to hold your calves. “I think she was closer…” He murmurs, his voice lowering the closer your bodies became. “Something like that.”

Your legs wrapped fully around Matt’s torso, knees pressed against his sides to keep you from falling back into the bed. You felt the heels of his feet press gently against the soft panty fabric covering your ass, and realized you were staring down at his stomach. You looked up to see his pale blue eyes fixated on you. 

“Hi.” Breathy.

“Hi.” Breathless.

“I think I’m gonna-”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, moving his hands from your calves to wrap them around your back, acting as support for your disrupted center of gravity. The phone lay forgotten on the bed. 

Noticing, you cleared your throat and picked it up dipping your head back towards his stomach to scroll to the next scene. “So once they're here…it seems like they just go into it?”

“No way,” Matt said, leaning forward and pressing his forehead gently against yours. “That's mad uncomfortable.” He smelled like mountain air and freshly-cut pinewood. Quit smelling him, you freakazoid.

“Well I’m sure that doesn't matter if you're horny.”

Matt tilted his head and nodded. “True. There's just. So many other positions. That aren't nearly as complicated.”

“I don't know…I kinda like this one,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

“Hm?”

“What?”

“What'd you say?” Matt asked, pulling away to look at you again. A smile threatened to creep onto his lips. Quit looking at his lips.

“Nothing, what was the next thing…” you said, turning your attention to the phone once more. 

One of his hands left your back, the other tensing against your skin. Matt brought his free hand up toward you, a calloused knuckle underneath your chin and his thumb right below your bottom lip. You looked up slowly, guided by his gentle fingers. “What did you say, hun?”

That smile had fully formed now. You couldn't help but return one of your own. “I didn't say anything.” You put the phone down, letting your hands make contact with his chest. Moving up his body, towards his collarbones, snaking around to meet behind his neck, slipping through the soft curls at the base of his hairline. His thighs, pressed against the outside of your own, began to tremble ever so slightly.

“I heard something,” he insisted, making a gargantuan effort to drag his gaze upwards from your lips. Matt's thumb lifted from your chin to pull on your bottom lip, puffing it out and opening your mouth in the process. “Come on, I know you remember,” he breathed, his voice low and steady. Your heart thumped in your chest - how long had that been going on?

You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open in strict obedience to his fingertips, brows tilted upwards, assuming an expression of innocence. “Sorry, Matty…I forgot.”

It now stands to mention that his pelvis had been pressed against yours this entire time, and at this moment, a hardness seemed to grow in what little space remained between your sex and his. A shiver buzzed up your spine, and the hand on your back flexed in response, tightening its now-possessive grip on your body. Matt let out a shaky breath. “Forgetting…that’s not good, is it?”

“No sir.”

His hard-on seemed to leap to attention. Matt’s eyes stayed locked on yours, almost as if they were searching for something.

“What is it?” you asked softly.

He blinked a few times, shaking his head, gaze still fixed. Tearing his eyes away, Matt leaned toward your shoulder, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. His hand fell away from your chin to hang in the space between you.

“Gonna…Tryin’ not to…do somethin’... might regret.” Matt's words were poorly enunciated, almost as if he was preoccupied. His cock throbbed against your panties, blood pulsing hard enough to pound through the thickness of his sweatpants. 

Looking down, you realized his neck lay open…exposed. As if in a trance, you dipped your head, lips making contact with his soft skin.

[anadiasmount]

imagine you're a celeb, and jude slides into your dms but you're having none of it because duh he's a football player and you know better than to get yourself involved with guys like that, but then you meet at an event and he's flirting but he's kind of intimidated by and you find it amusing but you still don't bug and he's litterally trying for months, months to get you to go on a date with him, and when you finally agree he's realised he's completely in love with you and you kinda are too but you're still guarding your heart because you don't want to lose him but you guys make it work and you become the it couple, private but not secret.

hii! you should also totally check out the fic @20-th-centurygirl posted, that’s called “work for it” as it’s similar to this anon post! please check it out it’s so so good 😣😋🤍

ik jude has mentioned he’s shy when meeting new people or just is in general, so this is making me think of shy! jude when meeting you.

he’d come across you after overhearing a couple of his england teammates talk about you, how you were this shiny new star that has taken over the internet rapidly. that same day he’d look over your profile completely falling for you. the posts you’d dedicated to friends, to charity, and selfies. he wouldn’t hesitate and quickly follow you. liking a few recent pictures and an old one where he liked by accident as he scrolled through your page.

a couple days later he continues to think about you, whether it was at breakfast with his teammates, during training, recovery, hell even if he was trying to fall asleep! your smile and bright eyes would consume his dreams and the reasons for his zoneouts, “yo jude, you good?”

he’d replied with a nod and quickly takes his phone out to send you a dm. he feels slightly embarrassed and shocked to when you don’t respond or bother following back, making him overthink if he should delete the reply. but instead he would find himself at the club with his mates, reacting to your recent story many weeks later.

you scoffed and laughed showing your friends who was hitting you up. it wasn’t that you weren’t interested, you were, but you knew you couldn’t trust him let alone yourself if you would be around him. you have commitment and trust issues after your very public break up, not being able to make friends easily as you did before.

5 weeks would pass by and you would continue to get notifications from jude, biting your cheek anxiously debating whether you should follow back or not. after a recent dm he’d sent you, you’d made the decision to follow him back and just react to his latest message. jude felt like you were ignoring him, which kinda pained him.

jude felt like you were playing hard to get and this would mess with his head after seeing you at a social event in madrid. he couldn’t take his eyes off you, drinking the last bit of his whiskey before having the courage to go over and introduce himself to you.

he would notice the small tint of pink on your cheeks as you had to look up at him, he felt immediate butterflies in his stomach, a tinge of nervousness now invading his system. “hello, i’d like to introduce myself, i’m jude. jude bellingham,” you would accept his handshake.

jude blinked rapidly, eyes roaming up and down your beautiful figure, becoming intimidated by your beauty and the way you made yourself feel and look confident. “i’m y/n, nice to meet you,” you’d smirk at the small shaky breath he released.

watching him stumble over his words trying to form a sentence. he’d be unable to look you in the eye for more than a couple seconds or he would be a mess.

while you know you shouldn’t get involved with a footballer, it felt right with him. jude would constantly check in with you, to see how you were, what you were up to, discussing his and your plans, wanting and offering to hangout bit you would turn him down at every opportunity.

while he slowly lost hope, he wouldn’t give up until you agreed because he had fallen madly inlove with you, even though you were stubborn to him. months and months later, on a special occasion where you would be in madrid again, you find yourself wanting to see jude after so long, texting him if he was still up for the date he suggested.

his palms grew sweaty and with wide eyes, he agreed without hesitation. he needed to see you, hold you, talk to you, just be close and never let go. even though he could tell you were afraid that night told him that the way he felt for you, was the same towards him.

“can i say something?” you’d ask him, watching as he shifted his full attention towards you. “i’m still kinda new to this whole thing… my last relationship was super public and honestly i don’t want that right now,” jude felt his heart sunk, his stomach wanting to throw up the food he’d just ate.

“if you’re still interested, i would love for us to continue having nights like this. i’m sorry for constantly shutting you out, i just have major trust issues and i don’t want to go through what i did again… i’ve healed…” you offer a small shy smile, jude’s eyes searching for hesitation or something that would hold him back.

“of course i am. and i respect you for telling what you did just now, it takes courage and a lot of healing, but you giving me a chance is making me the happiest man in the world y/n… i like you so much, i will protect you from anyone, okay?” jude grabbed your small hands and kissed them softly, but then quickly attached to his face where you kissed him.

the two of you would become the most talked about pair and couple after making it official, often invited to do interviews and shows together. he would soft launch you for months, driving even his teammates insane, but he was madly inlove you with, you were his adoration from here on out. “i love you jude…”

“i love you, princess.”

[writingstoraes]

charles' playlist 🎶

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: not proofread and not revised so please expect errors hehehe please lmk what u think by replying or messaging and if u wanna be part of my taglist! <3 decided to add fans' reactions through tweets! this is a bit long ig?

about: in celebration of your birthday, charles dedicates a song to you every instagram post.

charles_leclerc

liked by isahernaez, susie_wolff, carlossainz55, and 1,894,341 others

charles_leclerc The happiest of birthdays to the love of my life. Today, the world became an even better place because it gained someone so kind and loving - you. For one of your many gifts, I've picked out a few songs to better encapsulate the way I feel about you and just how thankful I am I got to live in the same life as you.

1. She Chose Me - Bruno Major

"Every night I thank the lucky stars above me, someone as beautiful as she could freely love me and she really loves me. From time to time I ask myself, why was it I and nobody else? The most beautiful girl that I'd ever seen and she chose me."

Eternally grateful I get to call you mine. Despite the highs and lows we have battled together, you chose me - how privileged am I?

tagged: yourusername

yourusername CHARLES????@?@ I LOVE YOU WHAT IS THIS

mercfan WHAT THE HELL U CANT JUST SURPRISE US LIKE THIS

princecarlos I KNOW oh my god hes so fucking sweet 😭😭😭😭😭

lewishamilton No don't do this I think I'm going to cry (by the way, Happy Birthday, Y/N!)

yourusername you and me both, lew 😔 thank you! say hi to roscoe for me please

lilymhe happy birthdayyyy, my favorite girl 🎉 see you soon!

yourusername thank you, my lily :(( we will drop by soon!

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, pierregasly, and 1,234,110 others

charles_leclerc 2. Baby I'm Yours - Arctic Monkeys

"Baby, I'm yours and I'll be yours until the sun no longer shines, yours until the poets run out of rhyme. In other words, until the end of time."

Okay this one I admit I just liked the melody but hey, the lyrics are for sure accurate, yes? I remember when we sang this at 3AM because we both couldn't sleep. But it couldn't be more right - I'm yours and I always will be, for as long as you'd have me.

tagged: yourusername

c16c55 oh my god i cannot do this today will i ever find love like this

leclercsainz Gonna go sleep on a highway

pascale_leclerc Happiest Birthday, my dear Y/N! Come over soon when you can ❤️

yourusername we will! i miss you all 🤍

yourusername there's no one else id rather sing karaoke with at 3am 🤍 je táime, amour! also, are you kidding? im keeping you forever 🧘‍♀️

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, isahernaez, and 1,459,340 others

charles_leclerc 3. Beyond by Leon Bridges

"I'm scared to death that she might be it, that the love is real, that the shoe might fit. She might just be my everything and beyond, space and time in the afterlife,"

You are everything to me, chérie. When I first realized that I loved you, it shook me to my core. I was terrified of how greatly I felt for you; but here you are, the greatest thing that ever happened to me. You were the leap of faith I will always be thankful for and the only sure thing amongst all uncertainties. Have the happiest of birthdays ❤️

tagged: yourusername

yourusername i am out of words, i love you so so so much, my favorite person 🤍

charles16clerc YEAH WTF charles im gonna need you to pay for my therapy

carlossainz55 Never knew you were such a romantic, mate 😆 happy birthday, Y/N! Isa misses you!

charles_leclerc Only for her actually

yourusername thanks, carlos! tell her to come visit me soon <333

---------

tagging: @slytherheign <333 mwah

notes: this is my first time trying out putting tweets! how was it so far? hehe lmk ur thoughts!

[itsharleystuff]

*ೃ༄ 𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘜𝘚

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader.

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 13.4k I’m so sorry y’all

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Javier can’t figure out his feelings for you and is constantly troubled by them.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), smoking, alcohol consumption, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), age gap (reader just graduated college, Javi is late thirties), inexperienced reader (not innocent, tho), jealousy (not too much), semi-public sex, fingering, pet names (cariño, corazón, hermosa, sweetheart), unprotected sex (don’t try at home), riding, cum eating, creampie. Some phrases in Spanish (no translations cause I’m lazy, sorry). Reader’s nationality isn’t specified, though she’s mentioned to have studied in the states. Javi is in love but won’t admit it, mostly written in his pov. No use of y/n.

— a/n: I don’t particularly like how this one turned out but I wrote it and got very carried away, so might as well just post it anyways.

𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐨

𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬í

𝐬é 𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐞

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦í𝐚…

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The things Javier Peña liked the most weren't a secret to anyone. He enjoyed a good smoke, a strong liquor and the company of a nice lady. Especially those three at the same time. Sure, there were other things that could bring genuine joy into his life, but he was a simple man after all.

Or so you thought when you first met him.

It's been five months since you first came to Colombia. It wasn't a really an intricate matter; basically, the embassy needed a translator for the DEA and they decided that your freshly graduated self would perfectly cut the part. And well, you really needed the money at the time, so the fact that there was an ongoing drug war happening down there was not going to be an impediment. You knew what you were getting yourself into, but let's just say that you truly didn't have a choice.

That's exactly what you had told him the first night he invited you to hang out with him, Steve and Connie. Javier didn't need a translator, but god knew his partner did. And after a couple of hang-outs, it became a routine to spend some time out, specially since you all practically lived together.

"So, how many languages do you speak?" The woman asks. “Besides English and Spanish, that is."

You take a sip from your beer without looking at anyone in specific, "I'm fluent in five languages: French, Korean and Portuguese are the three others."

"Damn, so you're like... Super smart," Steve comments with a surprised expression.

"I wouldn't say that," you reply with a shy smile, "I'm simply dedicated."

Javier huffed a laugh, the cigarette smoke filtering through his nostrils. "Can't say you don't look like one of those girls that spent their whole days locked up in their college dorm and that would always get straight A's."

You narrowed your eyes when glancing over at the agent, scowling at him defiantly. "What's that supposed to mean?" He shrugs, shaking off the question. "Are you saying I am... Uptight?"

"Your words, not mine." He puts the cigarette out without even looking back at you.

"But you implied it." Connie taps your hand and gives his husband's partner a dirty look.

"Don't listen to Javi, sweetheart," she says softly. "He can be a complete asshole sometimes."

"And sometimes, mostly means all the time." Steve adds.

"How rude of you." Javi sits back and crosses both arms over his chest, falsely offended.

The blonde woman shakes her head with a small grin before quickly peeking at Murphy' as watch, her expression turning slightly annoyed.

"It's pretty late," she realizes, "and I have to go to the commune tomorrow."

"Right." Steve nods and takes his wallet out to pay for their stuff. "We should get going."

You motion a goodbye to them with a subtle head movement, "I'll stay here for a while," you say, raising your beer. "I'd like to finish my drink."

Javier cocks an eyebrow in your direction, "Yeah, I'm staying too. I'll take care of our girl."

His partner gives him a suspicious head tilt, almost like a small warning —men sign language that you weren't sure you understood entirely—, but Peña dismisses him with a hand gesture as you gulp down the alcohol.

"You know, our building is right across the street. And your apartment is quite literally next to mine." He calls the waitress, not even side eyeing you. "I don't need to be taken care of." Javier finally meets your gaze, feeling his chest swell and instantly regretting his actions at the sight of your confused, daring eyes. "Is anything bothering you? You've been acting strange lately."

There was, in fact, something bothering him.

You. Or more like, his feelings towards you.

At first it was nothing but a simple attraction, the kind that he'd get whenever he wanted to sleep with someone and that would go away once he did. The problem was that he couldn't do that with you. After all, he was nearly forty and you had just barely graduated college. He couldn't risk making you feel uncomfortable or pushing you away.

But shit got worse when he started growing closer to you.

It wasn't about attraction anymore. It was something else. Deeper, unknown... Bizarre. He wanted to be around you all the time, learn about you; your interests, opinions, what you liked or disliked. His heart thumped against his chest whenever you'd smile at him, or briefly touch his skin, laugh at his witticism.

He hated it.

He hated that feeling that crushed his lungs when he saw you doing all those things with other men.

Why couldn't that be him? What did they have that you could possibly find appealing?

He fucking hated it.

Javier tried ignoring you, fucking around with as many women as he could to try and get you out his mind.

Needless to say it was all useless. And that's why perhaps, he was acting strange.

"Javier, are you-" whatever you were going to say got cut off by the arrival of the waitress.

"¿Qué necesitas, corazón?" The woman asked, leaning towards your companion, giving him a better sight of her big, perky breasts while gazing down at him with doe eyes. And Peña, being the man he was, couldn't bat away from her. Which kind of bothered you, to be honest.

Why was he always looking at other women? Why were they special?

It made your stomach feel weird.

"Otra botella, cariño." His tone usually changed when talking to them, even his eyes seemed more joyful. You'd picked up on that.

"Enseguida, Javi. ¿Algo más para ti, nena?" Her eyes swiftly drift towards you, voice becoming softer all of the sudden. It irritated you, more so because of the condescending tone when addressing you. Nonetheless, you kept composure.

"Todo bien, gracias." The delivery came out slightly dry and bitchy, but not as bad as you thought. She doesn't seem to mind, or even note it as she winks at the man next to you before leaving. "Could you switch to a different table?" You spit out.

He grimaces, brows furrowing and lips sealed tight. "Why? I mean, I won't. But I'd like to know why you're asking."

"Not having to deal with flirty waitresses, for starters," you mutter, rolling your eyes and making him chuckle. "And I'm also trying to catch a fling, which will most certainly not work if you're around."

He looks back at you in confusion and displeasure, as if he had missed something. "You're trying to- What?" There's something in his voice similar to... Resentment.

"You know," he stares at you intently, a muscle feathering on his jaw, "I'm trying to leave this bar with company." You feel yourself get nervous under his wary gaze, like a fire burning through your skin.

"Yeah, and you will," he stated, his tone somewhat amused but vaguely strained. "My company should be more than enough."

You giggled, wondering if he was just messing with you or didn't actually think you'd be the type to hook up with strangers. Whichever it was, you only said it to get a reaction from him, not that you'd actually do it. At least not tonight.

It was stupid and you were aware of it. Having a crush on the Javier Peña was probably the dumbest thing you'd done ever since willingly coming to Medellin while the narcos were running around. But, let's be real, how could you not? He was a full-on womanizer, dashing and breathtaking. However, what seemed to make you want him more was the fact that he didn't appear interested in you for anything other than rattling your cages, always taking his flirting to a certain extent but never actually crossing any lines.

"Come on Javi, you know that's not what I mean." He took a deep breath and leaned back on his seat.

Of course he knew what you meant. But he'd rather believe it was something different, because the mere thought of you being with another man, allowing him to do all the things that he yearned to do to you, made him physically ill. His fingertips started fidgeting with anxiety, pushing him to take out the pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket and lighting one up.

"I can't let you do that, sweetheart," he simply said.

"Huh?" You scowl, astonished with his response. "I don't recall asking for your permission."

"Don't you think it's a little dangerous to take random men back to your apartment?" He grumbles sharply, "I'm trying to look out for you, corazón."

His comment only manages to anger you, as if he believed that you'd simply ran off with whatever men offered to buy you a drink. "I'm fairly capable of taking care of myself, Peña." And before he can say anything, you add: "I'm tired of your patronizing treatment. I'm not a kid."

Javier's fingers nervously tap the wooden surface of the table, "I know that. Trust me, I know."

"Sure," you mumble in annoyance, watching him smoke stiffly. "Besides, you're the one that said I was uptight," you taunt. "Perhaps I just need a good fuck to blow off some steam."

You can clearly see every muscle on his body tense up, the cigarette dangling loosely on the corner of his mouth. He clears his throat and puts it out, crushing it in the ashtray on the middle of the table, not even half way through it.

"And you think any of these idiots will be able to give you that, preciosa?" He murmurs hastily, "A good fuck?"

You shrug your shoulders with a grin. "Can't be worse than sleeping around with college boys," you say, "those suckers never gave me a single orgasm in my life."

Javier felt cornered. Your words made his mind wander along places he'd strictly forbid himself to go to, blood rushing into all the wrong areas and pulse starting to rise. Maybe it was the few drinks you've both had, but he became bolder, unable to bite his tongue back and letting all his thoughts overrun him.

"Poor thing is looking to be fucked by a real man," he teases. "I wonder if you'll get what you want tonight."

"Oh, don't make fun of me, Peña," you complain, laying your chin on the palm of your hand. "I deserve this after three years of dating the same asshole that my parents liked."

"Jesus," he huffs, "three years and the kid never made you cum once?" You shake your head and he raises and eyebrow in disbelief. "Why did you even keep up with him anyways?"

"This might come as a surprise, but not everything in a relationship is about sex." He doesn't reply, persuading you with a smug look. You sigh heavily, avoiding his glance. "You're gonna think I'm childish."

"Try me."

You take your time to retort, still unsure. "It's stupid, I swear." But when your eyes bore into his, they appear reassuring and it makes you crumble immediately. "Fine," you give up, "have you ever been in love, Javi? And I don't mean like silly, head-over heels in love. I mean the kind of love that you feel throughout your whole body every time you see that one person. It feels safe, but exciting at the same time... Have you felt it?"

The smile on your lips and the way your face lit up when speaking sent a thrill of joy through his nerves, automatically making him smile back.

"See? You're laughing, I told you it was stupid." He shakes his head lightly, leaning towards you in interest.

"No," he says playfully, "I just think you're adorable." Before you can process his words, he talks again: "No, I don't think I've ever felt anything similar."

"Really?" you can't hide the surprise in your voice. "I thought you were going to get married before coming to Colombia."

"I was." He recalled. "But... I don't know. It was a long time ago." Thinking about his past wasn't Javier's favorite hobby, so he tried to smoothly change the subject back to you. "So, is that how you felt about the guy?"

"I thought so." You tug a strand of hair behind your ear apprehensively. "But at the end, he... Well, he convinced me that no one else was going to love me the way he did." You explain, watching as Javi's fists clenched under the table. "And I was too damn busy arranging my future and planning how to get the hell out of my hometown that I didn't have any time left to deal with him, so I just... Kept him around. Because it was familiar and I was scared to meet someone else from scratch."

He gives you a comprehensive nod. "That boy sounds like a complete dickhead."

"Totally. But that's behind me now. Currently I'm just looking for something new. No feelings, no strings attached, just fun."

The agent couldn't help but feel like someone was messing with his head.

That's practically every man's fantasy. At least Javier knows he's wanted that for a long time, being the prime reason why he usually fucked whores or preferred casual hook ups. And you liked him, at least physically. He was no idiot, he could tell when a woman was attracted to him. He liked you too. Hell, that was an understatement.

So why couldn't he bring himself to make the first move? What was stopping him?

"Aquí tienes, Javi." The waitress's voice brought him back to reality as she gave him his drink.

"Gracias, corazón." He didn't engage with her further, his attention focused on you. That bothered her but you can't tell if he noticed. "So what? Am I supposed to just watch as you get sweet-talked by one of them?"

"Basically," you respond, avoiding his glance.

"Like hell I will," his tone is sharp and determined, taking you out completely. "You're already tipsy and that'll only make it easier to take advantage of you."

"I swear I'm fine, Javi." The man shakes his head and takes a long sip from his beer.

"We're leaving. Now." At first you thought he was playing around, but his stoic expression told otherwise.

"What? No." He grits his teeth and takes his wallet out, leaving a couple bills on the table. "Seriously, Javier?"

"Yes. Now, get your pretty ass up unless you want me to throw you over my shoulder." You can't believe his actions, looking up at him dumbfounded.

"I'll scream," you threaten, half serious, half joking.

"I have a badge," he stands up, glancing down at you with his hands on his hips, patiently waiting for your next move. "Come on, hermosa. Don't make it difficult."

"I- Fine." Reluctantly, you do as told, taking your purse and denying him of eye contact. "You didn't even finish your drink and now you've spoiled my chances of having a pleasant night," you ramble while walking out of the place.

Javier's hand settles on your lower back when he helps you cross the street. Despite the growing irritation and confusion that his behavior was causing you, his touch managed to make you feel comfortable. That was his magic, when it came to him, skin to skin contact wasn't only soothing, but also enjoyable; as brief as it might be, it always succeeded in bringing a particular warmth to your whole body.

"I don't understand," you mutter, crossing the dark, silent halls of the building. "Why are you acting so strange?" You suddenly stop in front of your apartment door, turning to lock glances with him, who stood completely still. "I asked you earlier if there was something bothering you, and I didn't mean like... The usual work luggage, I mean... Me. Did I do something wrong?"

His eyes scan your face carefully, searching for any signs that he should back out, but finding none. Should he tell you? He's never been good with words and honestly, he doesn't even know what he's supposed to say. He can hardly figure out if what he felt was attraction, desire or... Something entirely different. And if he did say anything... What if that changed everything between you? Would you push him away?

Javier Peña was brave enough to take on every single sicario in Medellin all by himself, but he couldn't muster up the bravado he needed to tell the woman he liked about his feelings. Oh, the irony.

"No, sweetheart. You're perfect," he assures, anxiously running a hand through his hair. "I just have stuff to figure out and... My head is a such mess right now."

You nod and smile at him empathetically, a short silence falling upon you. After all, it was only fair that you gave him his space. The man had been through some pretty fucked up shit that most couldn't nearly begin to understand. He looked directly in the face of death every single time he decided to step out that door behind him; so no matter what was troubling him, the most you could do was simply be there if he needed you.

"Don't worry," you say, your hand shooting up to caress the side of his face in a sweet manner. His eyes briefly shut at the contact and a shiver runs down his spine. "I know it's not easy. But I'm sure it'll be fine. I just wanted you to know that... That you can talk to me." Your thumb gently sweeps over his cheekbone, adding to the emotion that your words reflected. "I'm your friend, right? You can trust me... Rely on me, if you need it."

Shit, thaaaat word.

It was heavy, determinant and so fucking hurtful.

Yeah, of course you were friends. And he hated it. Javier didn't want to be your friend. The way he thought about you was not how friends thought about each other. He wanted more... But how much more?

The only lightning in the hallway came from the warm, public streetlights outside, dimly spilling through the windows and creating shadows that highlighted your features perfectly. You couldn't comprehend why his eyes resembled a wounded puppy when you spoke, like you had just said something that conflicted him. His skin felt feverish there were you touched him, heart heavy in his chest. And you were so close to him that your perfume fogged his senses... All he could think about was the fact that he wanted his bedsheets to smell the same way.

All this tension, he wasn't sure if you felt it too, but it was absolutely crushing, suffocating him. He was going to die if he didn't do something. Anything.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." You frown, confused by his unexpected apology.

"What for?" His hand wrapped around your wrist, swiftly guiding it to his chest, palm flat over his sternum.

He said nothing, nor did he show signs of wanting to. Actions speak louder than words, wasn't that right?

Hell, he was about to find out.

Tossing aside all his fears and doubts, he leaned in towards you, his own hand going to your waist and pulling you closer to him, both your bodies crashing delightfully against the other. It startled you, but not in alarm, though in surprise. Nonetheless, he didn't give you any time to process whatever the situation was.

He gently pressed his lips on tops of yours, just enough for you to push him away if you so desired. And in your mind, all that can be processed is: Javier Peña is kissing me.

It was so sudden that you had to grab his strong arm not to crumble under his embrace. Javier's lips are soft and new, yet somehow... Familiar. His mustache mildly tickles your skin, his cologne going straight to your head. Shit, the way he held you —like you were a fragile little thing— made your legs tremble immediately.

Was this even real? Are you daydreaming again?

No. The answer's no. He is kissing you, right outside your apartment. And of course, you don't hesitate to kiss him back.

He tastes of alcohol, cigarettes and mint.

Your lips moved slowly, letting him explore, feel the area around. All thoughts and questions vanished in thin air, whatever troubles he might've had disappearing when you seemed so responsive to him. You let your purse fall to the floor with a faint thud, your hand snaking to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss, standing on your tippy toes so you could reach his height. He grips your waist tighter, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip and raising goosebumps on your skin. Javier swirls your body to pin you against the wall, mouth over yours at all times.

Your whole world spins with frenzy, overcame by all the unfamiliar sensations that shook you entirely. You had never been kissed with such passion, with a hectic need that ran all the way to your feet. No one had ever made you felt this wanted before.

Javier was over the moon, part of him still incredulous of the fact that you were kissing him back. It didn't seem real, as if this was just another one of his wild fantasies replaying more and more vividly in his head. But it was real and even better than anything he could've pictured. It was consuming.

All the sleepless nights he had spent thinking about the many different ways he could make you his, the countless times he'd imagined himself showing you all the pleasure only he could provide.

But then again, you were so good and so sweet... All the things he could easily corrupt.

Why did he allow himself to feel like this?

You make a sound of protest when he parts from your lips, laying his forehead against yours and panting from the lack of oxygen. Your finger run through his hair while trying to settle down your breathing, a cheeky smile smooshed on your face.  His hold on you softens, one of his hands traveling to your temple, his fingertips mapping every single detail on your skin with smitten eyes. Breathing heavily, you lean in to kiss him again, your lips barely brushing against each other's as he pulled back.

"Javi," you whisper, your voice coming out almost as a plea, "what-"

"I'm sorry," He says again, sounding genuinely guilty. "I'm so sorry, corazón." You swallow hard, unable to understand what he meant. He seals a soft kiss to your forehead and you can't even begin to understand what just happened. "This was a mistake."

Your heart drops with that sentence and you're abruptly stripped away from the warmth of his body as he leaves your side. You want to cry at once, all from the pent-up frustration and sudden bafflement. 

"Javi, wait-" he's already opening the door to his place when you crouch to reach for your bag. "Please." In spite of your concerned calling, he doesn't seem to care, simply closing behind him.

You're left alone in the middle of a brooding, quiet hallway, staring blankly at his door. You want to beg him for an explanation, tear all the walls down and pull an answer out of him. But you know you can't.

Space. He just needs space to sort things out.

So, with your head and feelings all messed up, you go back to your apartment, mad and overall... Hurt.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Next morning, your alarm didn't go off.

Sure, throw more wood into the fire. Whatever.

You didn't sleep much, haunted by the ghost of Javier's lips on yours. Even now, in the solitude of your  bed, you trace the corners of your mouth trying to relive the memory. Yet, that emptiness in your chest didn't seem to fade away. No matter how hard you tried, his words wouldn't stop hammering your head.

This was a mistake.

He said that kissing you was a mistake.

Why? Because he was your co-worker? No. He'd shamelessly slept with many of his co-workers before. Maybe the reason was your friendly bond. Or, perhaps- could it be your age difference? Though Peña didn't come off as someone that would care about that.

For whatever reason, his actions made your blood boil. The more you thought about it —the way he handled things and how he treated you— the angrier you got.

So, naturally, you were late to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was draw his attention to you, but it was practically impossible given the circumstances. Still, you won't give him the satisfaction of seeing how affected you were by last night's incident.

Javier's eyes glued to yours the second you walked in the building, keeping your head held high and a polite smile as you greeted everyone and made your way to your desk. You were dazzling, even more than usual, and he wondered if it was just his mind playing games with him.

Your hands were full, carrying various documents that you held close to your chest; a light, white shirt with a couple buttons undone that bared your neck and collarbones, accentuating your breasts, grazing your figure. But what really got him on edge, was that obscenely tight pencil skirt you were wearing.

"Buenos días, Steve." You nod to the blonde agent.

"Good morning to you too," he said with a wink, watching as you went ahead to your own cubicle, which was right in front of theirs. "A bit late, aren't you?"

"I overslept," was the only explanation.

You didn't even acknowledge Javier's presence. No eye contact, no salute, nothing. He merely saw as you settled all documents down and sat behind your writing desk, paying no mind to him or anyone else as you started reading all the files and folders. Either consciously or not, you left the door to your place semi-open. Murphy followed his gaze, your actions towards his partner not going unnoticed by him. He snapped his fingers in front of the other man's face, bringing his attention back.

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what'?" Steve countered, signaling imaginary quotation marks with his fingers. "What's going on between you two?"

A muscle jumped on Javier's neck, his stare wandering off. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on man!" He snorts, maintaining a low tone. "Don't play dumb. I've seen the way you look at her."

Murphy sits on his colleague's desk, grabbing his own coffee mug and settling to look down at him, deeply invested in the topic.

"Seriously?" The brunette man rubs his temples, seeing how determined his friend was. "I just think she's- you know... Attractive."

"Bullshit. Dig deeper, Javs."

The agent sighs in frustration. "The fuck do you want me to tell you, then? You seem to know everything already."

"I'm just thinking what could possibly be the reason why you haven't asked her out yet." He meditates. "Because, honestly, it's only a matter of time before someone else does." Javier's brows knit together in thought. "Just the other day Connie told me she rejected two guys in one night."

"Did she say why?" Steve shakes his head.

"It's pretty obvious, if you ask me."

"How so?" He asks, to which Murphy rubs his eyes with his thumbs, slowly counting to ten in his head.

"You two are fucking blind." He hurls, exasperated. "You like her, she clearly likes you too. What's the damn problem?"

"We don't like each other. That's high school shit, Steve." The mentioned man raised both brows at his comment. "I mean... It's different."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Peña breathes in deeply before doing so. "I don't know. We're... Complete opposites. She couldn't possibly reciprocate. Not like I would like her to, anyway."

Steve's lips pursed in a crooked smile. "So you do like her, then."

"Shit, of course I do!" He hissed. "I think."

"You think?" The blonde takes a sip from his coffee, engaged with the conversation.

"Yeah. I mean-" Javier clears his throat. "It's beyond just physical. That's what's messing with me." He plays with his blue tie when speaking. "Esta mierda me está atormentando. I can't rest well, her scent is all over me the whole damn day. Her eyes, man. I'd be doing the stupidest shit only for her to look my way. She has a contagious laugh..." He recalls, "I don't know if you've noticed."

"Uh-."

"Also, she'd just randomly start spitting the weirdest facts about literally anything. It's scary how much she knows. And I enjoy listening to her." He chuckles at his memories. "I can't get tired, really. I'm never tired of her. Anyone else... I have a limit. Joder. I could listen to her talking for hours and I'd be the happiest man ever. But, whatever this is... It's overwhelming. Cause I can't act on it."

Steve frowns. He couldn't believe that his friend, who was one of the most dedicated, gritty DEA agents he knew, was unable to act on his feelings for a girl. "So, I ask again... What's the problem?"

Before Peña could reply, another woman called their names. It was one of the secretaries with whom he also had had an affair with. Not that it mattered, though.

"Hey, is our translator here already?" She asked with a kind smile, standing in front of them.

"Yeah, she just arrived." Javier responds, "Is there anything we can help you with?" He points the folder she was holding.

"Oh, no. This isn't about that." She giggles, dismissing the question. "But now that you mention it- I'm aware that she's somewhat close to you, so... Do you happen to know if she's seeing anyone at the moment?" Steve shots him a cautious look at her inquiry, but he says nothing, remaining still as a stone.

"No. Not that we know of."

Javier's face twists with a sneer, painfully conscious of what his partner was doing with his answers. But he couldn't quite focus on them anymore, his eyes diverting to your location in hopes to catch a glimpse of your face. You were laid back on your chair, a pair of reading glasses sat on the bridge of your nose while scanning some papers. However, his attention drifted back to their conversation when the woman started explaining the reason of her doubt.

"My cousin is coming for the weekend and he asked me to show him around. It's kind of a set up, really, since my boyfriend's coming too. And well, I've gone out with her a couple of times. She's really nice and friendly... I figured she might be interested."

"I'm sure she'll say yes," Steve replied with animosity, "Where exactly do you plan on going?"

"Ah, there's this place downtown. It's not exactly a club, but a place to dance. Salsa and those sort of things."

The flashing image of you in a short dress, all sweaty while dancing closely with someone else had him feeling unsettled in seconds. Hell no. Once again his train of thought got lost as the woman went into your office, shutting the door behind her and leaving him with an awful taste of bitterness on his tongue.

"Fuck," he mutters, searching for a pack of smokes.

"Clock's ticking, Javs."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Time passes by quickly.

You come and go in between schedules, only staying in your office when you needed a break. Being Friday, most people had left already, but you still had a couple hours to fill in before going home. And since your work was pretty much done, you decide to sit back and relax, taking out a book from your purse. Although you don't get to read plenty before someone knocks on your door.

"Come in!" You shout in a calm tone, eyes still glued to the pages. Somehow, you knew exactly who it was even before he came in. "Agent Peña," you grit out, not bothering to glance in his direction, "how can I help you?"

He strode his way to the front of your desk, laying both palms down and leaning forwards. "I've been meaning to talk to you." He sounds grim, more serious than he's ever been with you before.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm a bit busy right now." Javier calls your name lowly, demanding your attention. Yet, you don't respond.

"Will you please look at me?" He barks in disheartenment. "Please."

You know deep down that if your eyes met his, all your barriers would crumble. But the man had a heavy presence, and it was one you couldn't quite ignore despite all your efforts. You put down the book, glaring up at him in defeat. And shit, you were right. The mere sight of him was all it took for your gaze to soften as he stood before you, his beige suit a bit wrinkled, hair slightly out of place and brown eyes round and big.

"What is it?" You huff, trying not to sound disturbed.

"I wanted to talk about yesterday. I-"

"What about yesterday?" He tilts his head to the side when you cut him off.

"Come on, cariño." Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. "Can we not do this?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand," you retort harshly, "Can we not do what? Act dumb? You are the one that said-"

"I know what I said." He states clearly, "I didn't mean it."

"Which part, exactly? The kiss? Or when you said that it was all a mistake?" Javier's hands rest on his hips as you carry on, "Look, I don't know what kind of treatment you receive from other women, but I'm not one of your pay girls, Peña."

His eyes narrow skeptically, "I'm aware."

You stand up from your seat, but don't approach him yet. "Right. Then why did you do it?" Your eyes pierce his soul with a certain spite. "Am I not good enough for you, Javier?"

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat. "How can you say that?"

"That's how you made me feel," you remark.

For a lingering second, none of you say a thing; a tense silence floating between you as you shared an intense, absorbing stare. It was difficult to come up with a reply that wasn't an apology from his part, cause he was past asking for forgiveness over something he didn't regret. He was burdened with the words he said, but not the fact that he kissed you.

And you can't find it in yourself to step away when he moves closer to your body.

He was being unfair, you thought. Every little action he made added to his cruelty; how he'd reach his hands to cup your face, clearly aware of his power over you and the way his eyes were devotedly looking at yours... Why would he do this after the way he treated you yesterday?

What a mean, mean man.

"You have it all wrong, amor," he speaks softly. "I'm the one that's not good enough."

It is as though he just slapped you across the face. "Don't give me that crap," you sulk out, "if you're gonna reject me, better be honest about your reasons." His hands slowly loose their hold on you as he is taken aback with your response, angling his shoulders to square off with you. "Do you not want me? It's okay if I'm not your type, but-"

For a second time, the irrational part of Javier's brain takes over his body and lets it do the work.

He kisses you again, and as of now, he does it most ardently. Just as simple as that, the primal instinct inside you gives in to him. It was unimaginable to think of any other sort of outcome.

He's rough in comparison to the previous kiss you shared; all tongue and teeth, heated and reckless. His hands are never steady, going from your hips to your ass while the other one grips the nape of your neck. You weren't any less eager: fingers running through his hair and fisting his suit jacket. Javier says your name in between the kiss, desperate as he messily tosses aside all the documents on your desk to sit you on top, establishing between your legs.

"How dare you imply I don't want you?" his voice is raspy when he pulls back, cupping your face in his big hand, fingertips digging in your cheeks. His lips move to your ear; heavy, hot breathes hit your skin and ruffle your hair while sending shocks of arousal to your core. "When you've been the only thing I've desired for months. Months, sweetheart. You know the torture you've been putting me through when walking around in these outrageously tight skirts?" You gulp, feeling heat spread on your lower stomach. "Answer, corazón."

"No-" you merely whisper, "I didn't know you... Looked at me like that." He laughs dryly, lips pressed alongside your jaw. "I hoped you did, though."

"Ah, so you did wish to torture me." He pulls your hair to throw your head back and further expose the skin of your neck, ripping a whine from your mouth. "What a merciless woman you are, sweetheart."

You smile unconsciously as your thighs cage his hips. "Me? I'm the one that's had to bear with your constant flirting, watching as you seduced every single woman that you crossed paths with. Oh, and let's not forget all the gossip and rumors I heard about you in the office..."

You feel his smirk graze your skin when his wet kisses slide to your collarbones. "What do they say?"

"That you're..." it becomes hard to talk when your mind can't think straight, "Amazing." His hand sets on your lower back in order to bring your body closer to his. "And so big..."

He comes back to your lips and you welcome him with an open mouth. Javier grunts when you mildly scratch his scalp and the sound makes your legs shake. Your lips only separate when oxygen suddenly becomes a necessity, and the way he looks down at you —hungrily, eyes darkened with lust—, makes your insides burn. His hand takes your wrist and carefully slides it across his shoulder and above his abdomen, letting your palm rest over the front of his pants, allowing you to feel how hard he's gotten just from the make out.

"See for yourself," he grumbles hoarsely. With a vicious grin, you apply pressure to his bulge, relishing in the throaty groan he lets out. "Still think I don't want you?"

"M’not sure." In response, Javier hums in your ear. "I might need a little more convincing."

"Oh, you will have it, corazón," he coos. "Yesterday you said that no man has ever given you an orgasm. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Can I change that?" The heat in your core expands to every cell in your body at the proposal.

"Please," something shifts in his gaze when you verbally express your desire for him. He is finally getting what he has longed for during all this time.

At this point, none you could care any less about the place. The building was nearly empty anyways. Only now, with his head buried between your breasts and fingers caressing the flesh of your thighs, do all the thoughts and fears in Javier's mind dissipate.

He's got you were he wanted you all along.

He unbuttons your blouse, but doesn't remove your bra, his hands too busy while pulling your skirt all the way up to your hips, exposing your plain black underwear. A cocky smile spreads across his face at the sight of how soaked you are already. You start panting, growing embarrassed when he lowers himself to his knees in front on you, avoiding all eye contact.

"What are you doing?" You blurt out, suddenly a bit shy.

"What?" He holds your knees to keep your legs apart, staring solely at your face. "Don't tell me that..." his expression becomes incredulous, "Three years and that boy never tasted this pussy?"

The heat on your face grows exponentially, "No one has."

"Shit, I'm one lucky bastard," he mumbles, mouth roaming your inner thighs. Javier senses how tense you are, probably feeling self-conscious. "Don't think too much about it, sweetheart. Just allow yourself to feel good, okay? I'll make sure to give you a good time."

"But-" air catches in your lungs when he nibbles the sensitive skin, "what about you?"

"Me?" He chuckles shortly, "Trust me, corazón. I do this mainly for myself."

You babble something that he doesn't quite hear, his fingers hooking on your panties to tug them down, dazed with excitement. He discards the clothing carelessly and throws your legs over his broad shoulders. The agent's eyes bore into yours, enjoying your flustered behavior as he calls your name soothingly.

"Look at me, hermosa," it sounds like an order, despite the soft tone. "Look at me."

You oblige, breath catching in your throat when he licks his lips and finally gets the view of your slick, exposed pussy. He dives in without wasting any time, flattening his tongue against your clit, circling a couple of times before easing a finger into you, moving it in and out at a steady pace.

"Fuck, Javi-" you cry, trying to muffle your moans in case anyone's around. And you practically feel him laugh at your vain attempts of keeping them on the low.

You briefly shut your eyes when he adds a second finger, curling them to hit all the right spots, making you throw your head back. You're positively dripping down your work desk, knuckles going white while holding it to keep yourself grounded.

"Come on, preciosa," his voice forces you to glance back at him, "told you to look." He takes his fingers out and you can't help but whine at the emptiness he left behind. "None of that, corazón." He reaches for your arm, taking your hand and placing it on his soft, fluffy hair. "Use me."

You can possibly cum just from that. The single image of him kneeled before you, head between your legs, eyes dark and greedy while asking to be used by you. It seemed like an image pulled from one of your darkest fantasies.

And fucking hell, did he look like one dark fantasy himself.

Your fingers run through his curls at the time as his mouth starts working you open, his tongue parting your folds and lapping up your slick avidly, tasting from every angle. The sudden action makes you squeal in surprise and pleasure, your legs tightening around his head instinctively. Consequently, he groans involuntarily and you mumble an apology, his hands coming to keep your thighs spread.

"Don't apologize," he says breathlessly, "that was fucking hot."

As he eats you out, his tongue finds the places that made your body shake and have your hips grinding against his face. He can't help but bask in the glorious view of you, all splayed out for him, the curve of your breasts as your chest rises and falls from the ragged breathing, cheeks flushed red and plump lips parted while looking down at him, eyes now hooded beneath heavy lids. He dreamt about this before. How you'd taste like, what you'd look like, the noises you'd make. Fuck, he saw this exact moment for weeks, playing in his sleep like a loop he couldn't escape from, waking up every morning with a hard on he could rarely get rid of with a simple cold shower.

This- shit, he's mesmerized.

His right hand coasts down to palm himself through his pants, just enough to relieve some of the ache he felt. He moans and the action sends vibrations throughout your body.

"Yes- keep going, please..." you feel so close now, your whole body trembling and abdomen tightening. "Javi, that's amazing."

You're euphoric, experiencing something unlike anything you've had before, aware of sensations you didn't know you could feel. His nose nudges your clit repeatedly and everything simply explodes. You pull his hair as a warning, eliciting a deep, guttural groan from him; but Javier simply grasps your thighs harder.

It takes seconds for you to reach your high, eyes teary and vision blurry from the shocking ecstasy that this new experience brought. He licks you clean before standing up slowly, softly stroking your exposed skin and aiming to grab a tissue from your desk, helping you rearrange your skirt and underwear.

"How was that?" he asks, wiping over his mustache while looking at you mischievously.

You can't think of any way to answer that could explain what you just felt; instead, you grab his tie and drag him towards you. He laughs gleefully when you search for his lips, covering half your face with his palm, gently brushing your cheekbone with his thumb before actually kissing you.

This time it's different. Deep, but not as hungry; simply affectionate. You can't breathe and it feels like you're floating. His eyes seem out of focus when your lips set apart and you can tell just how stupidly drunk he is. Drunk on you.

"Never thought I could feel... I wouldn't even know how to describe it," you mumble, tracing the lapels of his jacket.  "I didn't even think it was possible to be so... Wet, I guess."

He cackles. "Glad to know I'm doing my job right," you give him a half smile in return. "Though I still can't believe that somewhere in this world there's a son of a bitch who was lucky enough to have you by his side for years, and never even tried to give you head." You roll your eyes, slightly embarrassed. "Seriously. If I were your man, I'd be begging for you to give me a taste. A la mierda eso, I'll beg you now."

Despite the joking note, he kind of meant it. Now that he had taken a bite from the forbidden fruit, he needed the whole damn thing.

"Gracias, Javi." You peck his lips, mind still clouded from the post-orgasm bliss. "Can I return the favor?"

He blinks a couple of times, "I- you don't have to. I didn't do it because I was expecting you to-"

"I know, Javier," you reassure. "But trust me... I want to." 

One of these days you're going to give the poor man a heart-attack. Somehow, you always manage to say the things exactly how he wants to hear them and precisely how he never expects you to say them. 

"Está bien, corazón."

You press a hand to his chest and softly push him backwards, "Take a seat." He lifts an eyebrow in surprise, but still does as told, immersed in this new dynamic. 

He sits on your chair, legs spread just enough to give you room to settle. It's now your turn to be on your knees for him, every move you made being monitored by his keen eyes. Javier's heart is beating so fast it actually hurts. He feels as if this was his first time getting blown, like he doesn't even know what to do with himself despite his experienced record. You're fairly inexperienced in this area, but he gave you enough confidence and safety to ask. Your face rests on his inner thigh as you look up at him through your lashes.

"Tell me, Javi. How do you like it?" you ask, losing coyness and slowly unbuckling his belt without breaking eye contact. "Would you like me to gag on it?" His eyes widen at the question, "Do you prefer it if I lick or spit? Tell me how to please you, Javier."

He inhales sharply, "fucking hell", you smile at him when pulling down the zipper delicately, "I want you to stop talking or else I might just lose it."

"Oh," you palm him through his briefs, feeling his hard, hot cock throbbing under your touch, "so you like my voice?"

He tangles his fingers in your hair, "I like everything about you, if that's where we're going." Not a second after speaking, the phone on your desk started ringing and he shot you a cagey glance.

"Answer it," you tell him, pressing light kisses to his clothed crotch.

"¿Ahora?" Your eyes sparkle with a certain naughtiness that he didn't think you were capable of having.

"Sí, Javier. Pick up the phone." Cautious, he reaches for it and takes the call reluctantly.

"Peña," he sulks out as you swirl your tongue over the damp spot that had formed on his underwear. His eyes shut for a split second and his entire body shivers. "No está aquí. ¿Le paso algún mensaje?"

To be fair, you were there, probably just a little too tongue-tied to answer. There was no shame in admitting how much you were enjoying pulling him out and rejoicing yourself in every single contented sigh, jolt, or twitch he made when you started stroking him. Whomever was calling clearly had an important matter with you, since he wasn't hanging up and was struggling to keep up with the other side of the line, simply grumbling affirmations such as 'sí, entiendo, ajá'. And you were painfully teasing the man, as if he wasn't worked up enough.

"The rumors were true, I see..." you ramble and watch him smirk at your comment.

You give a firm squeeze to the base, pumping a few times before twisting at the head, already leaking all over himself. He can't look at you and he's set on that, one hand white-knuckling the edge of your desk as the other holds the phone, mouth agape. But it was unfair. You wanted his attention; all of it. Even if that meant getting caught.

So, in order to get it, you slowly lick the tip and gather the precum that oozed there on your tongue, growing rather fond of its salty flavor. He snarls, eyeing you in a grave manner. But for god's sake, the sole look on your face when taking his cock fully into your mouth could send him into oblivion.

"Yo se lo haré saber." Was the last thing Javier said before abruptly ending the call, immediately letting out the lewdest moan you've heard of him so far. And that alone is making you wet all over again. "You truly are something else," he rumbles between heavy, shallow breaths. "Putting on a little show like that- Fuck."

His hips jump upwards when you take him farther, his fingers running through your hair as he mumbles an apology. Your jaw goes slack once you start bobbing your head up and down his length, your throat and mouth feeling so full of him, lips cradled around his length as if it was your life purpose.

He was panting, groaning and calling your name repeatedly, murmuring praises that encouraged you to take him deeper. His thighs tremble every time you hollow your cheeks around him or run your tongue on the underside of his dick. Your hand goes to massage his balls and he throws his head back in sheer pleasure, cursing under his breath.

Never had you given such a messy blowjob before, drool dripping all over him and your free hand going to rub your clit over your panties, cunt aching for him once more. But he throughly enjoyed it like this. How you moaned around him, the way you lapped at his slit and sucked him earnestly. And it goes without saying how much you loved it too.

"Shit, that's it-" you know he's close when his words become incoherent, his breath disjointed and muscles tightened.

You pull back shortly, your hand still jerking him off, "I want to swallow it," you purr, his hand gripping the back of your neck.

"Yes, god- yes."

Despite the lightheaded feeling, you take him in your mouth again, going as far as you could. His eyes lock with yours and that's all it takes for his load to spill all over your tongue and down your throat, his orgasm hitting hard. You do as you said, not giving much thought to it and purely admiring how fine he looked in this precise moment, absolutely lost in his pleasure. Once he finally rode it out, you release him, gently kissing the tip. He sighs loudly, his soft whimpers barely audible as the aftershocks of his high strike his body.

You can't help but smile as you stand in your feet, knees surely bruised. He looks up at you, shaking his head and mirroring your expression before rearranging his pants and straightening his suit. It's like he was seeing you for the first time, now in a completely different light.

"Want a ride home?" your response was obvious.

Javier had completely forgotten the reason why he came to your office in the first place.

And the lack of information gave you the wrong idea of why he really came looking for you.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Saturdays were meant to be enjoyed. They were supposed to be rest days, used to spend time with friends or family, maybe go to a club or join someone for a roadtrip. They definitely weren't meant to be dull, and let them pass by with tons of shitty work.

Javier and Steve had been all day locked up in Murphy's apartment, going through some of the most recent information regarding the cartel. Connie was there too, not really participating but giving them moral support and, more importantly, beers. Peña constantly went in and out, going to his own apartment to gather some more papers, and even taking a second shower to clear his head. He was hugely stressed.

"I'm spent." He complained. "Nothing new is going to happen today, I'm dropping this for the night."

His friend nodded in agreement, suddenly distraught by his wife cursing out of nowhere. "Everything alright?"

"It's raining," she said, looking through the window. Javier wasn't paying that much attention until she mentioned your name. "She had a date tonight. I helped her pick up a dress and..."

His head turned at that, wincing. "A date?"

"Yeah, sort of. Mia invited her. You know, the secretary." Steve's eyes narrowed.

"You said you talked to her," he hushed. 

"I did..." Javier clears his throat, "I mean, no. Not exactly."

The blonde frowns, "so what happened, then?" his partner shrugs, a dim grin drawn on his lips. "Actually, I don't want to know."

"I dropped her off here," he explained, "after... Well, it doesn't matter. There just wasn't a particular talk about the subject."

Steve intends to say something, but the other man solely ignores him, gathering his stuff quickly in order to not dive in that distinct topic that could only spur him on in the wrong ways. And frankly, he didn't want to talk about it. All the choices he made were mistaken and it was entirely his own fault.

So what if you had a date? How did that concern him? The other night you were pretty clear about wanting to have something with 'no feelings, no strings attached, just fun'. He was merely helping you out, as a friend. Nothing else. Because, at the end of the day, he couldn't really be anything else besides that. And he wasn't able to figure out if he wanted anything more; much less deserve it.

Javier walked off to his apartment, mind wrapped around you.

The rain had gotten worse since he left, lightings striking across the sky and raindrops crashing violently against the closed windows. The weather did not seem to help dissipate his troubled thinking. He didn't even realize his feet had stopped moving right outside your door, nor when his hand knocked on it.

You were shocked to hear that you had visitors, and the feeling sank deeper when you saw him standing there with a stern face, arms crossed above his chest. He appeared to be upset, in a way you hadn't yet seen him. However, when his eyes roamed your body you were able to pick up on his tensing muscles.

"Am I walking in on something?" he questions lightheartedly.

You shake your head and farther open the door to invite him in. "I had plans today but we had to reschedule."

Javier decided to play dumb, "What sort of plans?" You dismissed the inquiry with a subtle hand gesture, locking behind him. "You look stunning, by the way."

It was nothing but true and it made it difficult for him to focus on whatever he came here to do. Your hair and makeup were done differently tonight and the red dress you were wearing wasn't exactly discrete, but neither revealing.

"Thanks. You yourself look very handsome too." He snorted sarcastically. "But I bet you already knew that."

In your eyes he always did look charming, but at the moment the vibe was outstanding. His hair was curlier than usual, —probably due to the humidity in the air— and he was wearing a black shirt with plenty of undone buttons that gave a nice view of his golden skin, paired with those pants that would just stick to him like a second skin. There was also that tension in his posture that gave a certain roughness to his exterior, in some way making him more alluring.

"So, what brings you here? As I said, I had plans but now that they're off the table..." He wasn't looking at you, playing around with his fingers, "Would you like to watch a movie? I still have the dvd we rented-"

"I need to talk to you." He blurted out, readjusting the watch on his wrist.

You blinked in confusion, "Sure, what is it?"

His mouth dried all of the sudden, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I- don't know how to say this..."

"Maybe sit back and- I'll pour you a drink." You don't wait around for his reply, walking straight to the kitchen. The place wasn't big, so everything was pretty much in the same space.

Javier sat down on the big, brown armchair, feeling the leather crack under his weight. Beside him there was a small reading table decorated with a vintage lamp and an ashtray that you had gotten specifically for whenever he came to visit, along with a pack of smokes. The lights in your apartment were warm and almost all of them were on due to the lack of light that the night and the rainclouds provided. But even now, the chill air from outside could somehow still be felt. Truth be told, it was actually quite cozy to you.

"It's about yesterday," you hear him say while poring some whiskey into two glasses. The mention of the subject makes your heart flutter.

Talk about deja vu.

"Yesterday?" Anxiety drifted your thoughts through the worst scenarios possible. "Oh, don't worry about it, Peña. You don't have to give me 'the talk'. We're still friends, alright? Nothing's changed."

You couldn't possibly tell how he physically flinched at your declaration, neither how much it stung. You cross the living room to sit on the couch across him, barely on the edge of it so your bare legs were still flushed to his knees. He takes the glass you offer, but instead of drinking, he sets it down on the table.

"So it meant nothing to you," the man asks in a low voice. "Right, cariño?"

Shit, of course it meant something. But you could not tell him. Not him.

Javier was the type of man that would sleep with you and then move on. He wasn't a jerk, but this heartless fame that he had didn't help. Telling him about your crush and how the events that went down yesterday simply encouraged it was like signing a death sentence to any bond that you two had at the time. And you sincerely didn't want to say goodbye to whatever it was that you both had built together.

"Yeah, we were just fooling around," you said, taking a sip from the alcohol before placing the glass next to his.

"Fooling around," he echoes your phrase, his mustache twitching prior to swallowing down the drink.

"Whoa- Is everything okay? I feel like you're keeping stuff to yourself." His behavior was starting to get you worried.

"I'm merely realizing how stupid I am." Javier's hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes and he sloppily takes one out.

"What do you mean?" You wonder, moving your feet nervously.

"It doesn't matter," he objects, a sardonic air in his voice and mannerisms. "You got a light?"

Puzzled, you take a lighter from your purse, glancing at him in bewilderment. "Did you want it to mean something?"

"Maybe," he shrugs, "I don't know."

The fag hangs loosely from his lips, but you don't hand him the flame just yet, your next movement catching him completely off-guard.

You stand to sit on his lap, forcing his focus on nothing else besides your presence, your body, on you. His chin tilts upwards, eyes fixed on your face with a perplexed spark.

"Talk to me, Javi," you plead softly, your left hand resting on his exposed chest as the other lights the end of the orange filter, the fire illuminating his dark, beautiful gaze. "For once, be honest me. O por lo menos sé honesto contigo mismo."

His heart pounds relentlessly and he's absolutely sure you can tell. Despite the cold ambience, his skin was burning hot under your touch, muscles finally starting to relax underneath you. Javier takes a long drag, his elbow propped up on the armrest as his other hand lays flat on your spine.

"You already know everything, corazón."

"I do not, Peña." You clutch his shirt in anger. "What's up with you? Ever since I came to Colombia you've been turning my life upside down. You never wanted me to go out with anyone, always using the same stupid excuses about it being 'too dangerous', as if I was just some silly kid that couldn't take care of herself." He feels your weight shift on top of him, and it's so distracting that he can barely keep up. "But you also didn't seem to want me. Every other single woman in this country was worthy of your time and recognition; everyone but me. I've been open with you, I've been vulnerable, and you... you just keep sending this mixed signals that are driving me insane! This push and pull game has to stop. What- What do you want from me?"

Screw it.

Screw all of it.

The nicotine in his system kicked in, your smell probably more intoxicating than the alcohol he just drank. Javier wanted answers, but he needed to be straightforward in order to get them.

"You, sweetheart. I want you."

A small frown forms on your face, "Me?" your voice comes out unsure, "Why me?"

His head jerks backwards, hitting the backrest of the seat, a cloud of smoke dancing in between you from the red, burning dart. "You're seriously asking me why I like you?"

"Clearly."

He laughs wryly. "Yo qué coño he de saber, hermosa. I genuinely don't know. 'Been trying to figure it out for a while now, but it's a dead end. You're naive and short tempered, but also sweet and smart. Too fucking much, I might say. Too smart to be seduced by me." You giggle and as he said before, it's contagious. "Which is why I never told you. I didn't want to... Lose you."

And then it clicks for you.

It wasn't that Javier didn't want to be with you. It was that he didn't want you to be part of his world. Yes, you are young and certainly unaware of many things. In contrast, he feels corrupted. He was part of a crude, violent world that would endanger your safety, sanity— your precious ignorance that kept your life so pure. He convinced himself you didn’t feel the same so he wouldn’t have to face the truth.

It must've been hard for him to admit, you know it. Cause it was for you as well.

"Javi, you know the first thing my coworkers told me when I started hanging out with you?" He smiles playfully and shakes his head briefly. "That they knew I was gullible and I shouldn't fall for your gentlemanly façade, cause I'd only end up with a broken heart." Javier stares back into your eyes fixedly, unfazed by your words. You wriggle on his lap, straddling him. "You wanna know the truth?"

"Enlighten me."

Your dress is hitched up, the naked skin of your legs taunts him, your knees spread around his thighs in a way that has his head spinning. You're electrifyingly close. And yet so far at the same time.

"I tried to listen. But failed miserably," you say lowly. "I- " the pads of his fingers rub soothing circles on your upper leg, "I kinda... Fell for you. Shit, I'd get so jealous when your 'informants' would ring the office's phone."

He smiles, full lips parting around the cigarette. "I fucking knew it." You snort, tracing his collarbones with your index. "Why didn't you do something?"

"I didn't want to be tossed aside," you admit in shame.

His eyebrows twinge slightly as he ashes the filter, "You really think that low of me?", he scoffs.

Up until now, you hadn't realize that those words could potentially hurt him. "No. But I was scared and had to look out for myself. After one disastrous long-term relationship, falling for someone as exciting and... outgoing, wasn't my most clever move."

His body goes limp below you, eyes meeting yours with a hint of yearning mixed with soreness. "I see. I'm an asshole that will break your heart. Anything else?"

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Javi, that's not what I meant..." you cry, but his gaze is dark and stern, dangerous to a certain extent. It makes your stomach turn to think that you might've offended him. "You know I-"

Nothing else comes out, phrases getting stuck in your throat. His hands are no longer on you and the silence and impassivity he exudes are unbearable.

"Show me," he coaxes, and it takes you second to comprehend what he means, until he talks again. "Show me you're not scared anymore."

In other words, Javier wanted you to prove him how much you wanted him. He blows the smoke right in front of your face and other than finding it annoying, you think it's rather hot.

You duck down, both your hands on his shoulders as you shift your weight on top of him. He still doesn't move a a muscle, solely watching as your lips inch closer to his. When they barely brush against the other's, he vaguely turns his face away, doing this a couple of times as a way to provoke you.

"¿Acaso no quieres besarme?" you grumble.

"Al contrario, corazón." Peña admits, "Pero quiero que tú también lo desees. Quiero que tengas tantas ganas de besarme que no puedas contenerte. That way you'll understand what I've felt for the last five months."

So that was the catch. You give him a smug smile, snatching the cigarette from between his fingers and taking a drag under his piercing gaze, blindly putting it out before crashing your lips against his. Your hands hold his face, thumbs running along his jawline as he eagerly kisses you back. The agent groans when you exhale into his mouth, the smoke rolling off your tongue right into his own.

His hands coast up your thighs, slowly making their way to your ass beneath the fabric of your dress as you sigh against his lips when he firmly squeezes the flesh. The kiss is sloppy and abrasive, needy and sensual. He holds the back of your neck with one hand while his lips travel south, caressing and nipping your jaw and bare shoulders.

You grind your hips against his slowly, feeling the excitement between his legs and your own arousal growing. You watch as he delicately tugs down the straps of your dress, letting them fall loosely on your arms and deepening the low-cut on the front, your breasts spilling out.

"No bra? You really had everything sorted out, didn't you?" His voice is lust-strained, eyes gazing up before burying his face between your tits.

"Christ-"

Your nails dig on his shirt when you find a steady pace that creates just the right amount of friction between your clit and the hard bulge on his pants. All the while, Javier tweaks your nipple with his fingers, flicking his tongue over the other— thus, you become noisier.

"Don't worry, hermosa," he whispers, "I'll make sure to treat you how you deserve. So you won't think of running off with another man ever again."

You hum, ruffling his hair while he worked at your sensitive bud, groping your breast with a hand as the other guided the movements of your hips. You're wet in seconds, the smell of his soap making you all fuzzy, added to the constant stimulation he was providing.

"No, Javier." You huff, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck, peppering kisses all over the exposed area.

Both his hands are now on your hips, barely holding as he lets you do as you please. The buttons of his shirt scrape your delicate nipples, increasing the ache on your cunt. He's panting, growing weak with the sound of your moans, the feeling of your lips on him, your tongue licking the hot skin, —strictly where his pulse could be felt— and Jesus- the way you moved had him throbbing painfully. You take a second to contemplate in gratification just how wild you could drive a man even without actually letting him fuck you. It made you realize exactly how much power you had over him.

"No? No, what?" He muses.

"I don't want any other man. You've ruined me for them." Wordlessly, he follows your motions as you sit back on his legs. His eyebrows jump up when he sees the mess you'd made on his pants, guessing your underwear must be drenched by now. Your fingers creep towards his belt, leisurely undoing it along with the fly. "I didn't want anyone else. And after what happened at my office... I was doomed."

The man exhales heavily, running a hand through your locks. His eyes gleam endearingly —such a rare sight on him—, something you're certain it's strictly for you.

"Kiss me again."

It doesn't sound like an order, but a plea.

And how could you say no to him?

When your lips crash together once more, it's like heaven on earth. Everything's blurry, even the storm outside disappeared. All that matters is this precise moment.

His fingers loom over your panties, gasping in your mouth at the dampness that welcomes him. He rubs his thumb over your clit, snatching a small whine from you as he impatiently pushes the fabric to the side. Instinctively, your hand slithers towards his lower abdomen, grasping the base of his already hard cock to pull it out and slowly coming to rub the wet tip. Gently, you bite his bottom lip before breaking apart from the kiss, making him groan in protest. His digits glide between your folds as he eases two fingers inside, making your knees feel weak around him.

"Fuck, Javi-" you grip his shoulder for support when he adds a third one, fascinated by how responsive your body was reacting. "Please..."

"Hm?" he kisses your temple lovingly, "What do you need, sweetheart?"

"You. Inside." How pathetic, you thought. Begging like this— well, it was certainly something a man like him would love. But you'd never experienced this sort of passion, where you desperately wanted to get dicked-down. Javier showed what it is to want, and to be wanted. "Please, I can't- wait any longer."

"Here?" a faint nod, "you want to take control?"

Timidly, you tug at his shirt and search for his eyes. "I've- I have never done this before... Been on top, I mean."

The agent snorts in disbelief. "Seriously? Can't fucking believe it." He still work at your core, ripping out silly whimpers from you. "No te preocupes por eso, corazón. I can guide you, if that's what you want."

"Yes." You reply almost immediately, "Of course, only if you'd like that too-" he takes his fingers out and guides them straight to his lips, licking them clean.

"I'll do anything you ask, hermosa. Just say the word."

For the love of god.

"You can do with me as you please, Javier." You utter, "I'm yours anyway."

His eyelashes bat twice, taking in your words. Then, his lips curl up in a smile and things happen very quick, in a way you can barely register what's going on. He holds you up with one arm, pulling his pants down just enough to give himself some mobility and manhandling you into a position were you could receive him with no trouble. This way, the head grazes your entrance and the sensation is already making your nerves buzz.

"Go on, sit on it."

You use the back of the seat for support and let the man guide you, feeling your back arch in ecstasy as you slowly adapt to his size. He stretches your walls deliciously, though it takes a lot of effort not to collapse on top of him.

"That's it, baby. You're doing so good,” Javier says, voice shaky between shallow breaths. "You look so pretty taking me like this."

"You're so big-" you manage to say, your hands digging into the leather material to keep yourself put together as you settle every last inch of him inside you. And indeed, he was fucking huge in comparison to anyone else you had before.

"Don't close your eyes," he tells you, "Look at me. Mírame a los ojos, preciosa." And so you do, his dark, ardent gaze is all you can see. "Look into my eyes when you ride."

He fills you up entirely and his words make your chest flutter, absolutely lost in everything he was giving you; his scent, his stare, his body. Simply him. Javier Peña.

You're determined to please him, to show that you can be everything he's ever wanted and more. In the midst of all, you lay a hand on his chest for stability as your hips roll to set a pace, struggling to maintain focus when his cock was hitting spots inside that continuously sent drops of liquid pleasure down your spine.

"That's my girl," he coos, pressing light-feathery kisses to your jaw. "My beautiful girl."

Oh, that was it.

His voice, filled with lust and admiration, makes your head spin and heart pound relentlessly. Even though you want to say something in return, you can't muster up the words, reckless cries being the only sound leaving your lips.

You have completely lost any sanity left in you, consumed by this new light of passion that he has managed to ignite. And Javier loves it. He loved that etching confidence in your eyes and the way your tits bounced in front of his face as you jumped up and down his cock, moaning his name. He's in fucking paradise.

His hands slither towards your ass, splaying his palms to hold you. He helps you out, thrusting his hips up deeply, harshly; filling every spot you were unable to. Your bodies move in synch, unconsciously attuned to recognize each other's desires. It amazes you just how much fulfillment you can receive from sex, when in the past it was nothing more but pain and nuisance, a simple duty to make a man happy. Now you see it: your pleasure was his pleasure too. It became crystal clear with each kiss, every touch or shared glance.

"Javi- I can't..." inevitably, you collapse on his shoulder, your legs growing weaker by the second.

You feel warm all over, the storm sounds mixed with the filthiness of his groans and sexual demeanors thickened the air. He embraces you with one arm around your waist and a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you still and taking over the situation. Your fingernails lightly scratch his scalp as he grinds his cock inside you, building an amazing heat between your thighs and making that bundle of nerves pulse each time it grazed the buttons of his shirt.

In the thick of the moment, you lick the delicate area in the underside of his ear, raising goosebumps on his skin and drawing a gruffly moan from his lips. He can tell how close you are, in fact, he can feel it; your pussy swallowing him whole and clenching tightly around his throbbing shaft, edging him further.

"I won't last," you warn, dragging your nails over his shoulders, under the shirt. "Javi, it's too much- I feel so..."

"Fuck- I know, corazón," he grumbles, his thrusts become rougher and it makes your head spin. "Say it again."

You know what he wants to hear, it's perfectly simple to figure out.

For heaven's sake, he looks divine. His lips slightly parted, head thrown back and a fire gleaming behind his brown orbs, focused merely on you. He grounds you with a grip of steel on your hip while your fingertips roam across his features, wanting to imprint this exact moment in your mind forever.

"I'm yours, Javi." It comes out as a devoted prayer as he leans forward to kiss the hollow of your throat, his teeth and mustache teasing your reddened skin.

"That's right," he grunts, the sound of his hoarse breaths and your dripping cunt suddenly being muffled by a whir in your ears and your vision going hazy. 

Javier takes great pride in your corrupted expression and the broken whines that escape your mouth when you finally reach your high. His pace quickens and he cradles you in his arms, your hands enveloping his neck as your whole body quivers from the intensity of your orgasm, still crashing into you. He can't hold back his own noises, chasing his release desperately while also fucking you through yours. This angle where his lower body is firmly pressed against your pelvis applies new pressure to your clit in a way that has you calling for god.

And the way you soak him down to his thighs, the way you squeeze around his length— has him coming with one last, deep thrust of his hips. He calls your name but you can barely hear it, too distracted by the warmth of his cum inside you.

Even after he's finished, Javier won't let go of you. Not that you want him to anyway.

He takes a second to revel in the moment, knowing he had been craving this ever since he laid eyes on you. You can feel his heart hammering under you, feel the way he —rather slowly— softens inside and both your bodies go limb.

And still, he refuses to part, swaying a palm across your bare back. You feel sore, sticky, but overall, serene. At peace. 

"Javi?" you say his name and it sounded perfectly poised despite your exhausted exterior.

"Mhm?" your hot breath hits his golden skin as you try to settle down your accelerated pulse and failing miserably at the sight of his adoring smile. "What is it, preciosa?"

"Would you stay the night?" He laughs breathlessly at your unsure tone.

"On one condition," he muses, picking your interest. "Promise you won't go out on that date."

"I don't know..." you play dumb, bucking up to get on your feet while struggling with your wobbly legs. "It's not exactly a date so, does it matter?"

You rearrange your dress and ruined underwear, settling on the couch beside him as he mirrors your action.

"Not really, no," he's very aware of your taunting and is willing to lead you on. "But you've made me greedy. Now I want you all to myself."

His words draw a smirk on your face. "Are you saying you'd be jealous?" The agent shrugs, aiming for another cigarette. "I won't go. Though, I ought to give Mia a good excuse for canceling our plans."

Javier smiles cockily, taking the unlit dart to his lips. "Just tell her you've already got a man waiting for you."

[butch-with-a-deep-voice]

Long-Distance date/bonding ideas I've learned while making it work with my femme

Streamed Movie Night: Discord has a function that let's you stream video and gaming alike! I'd recommend Nitro because otherwise stream quality is gonna SUCK (and you need to do some weird fiddling to get services like Netflix to work) but you can enjoy movie night with your boo

Tabletop Simulator: If you both have about $20, and a computer with even a low budget graphics processor, this program is invaluable. The base games are neat but the real trove is in the Steam Workshop. Mod makers upload hundreds of boardgames from Catan to Azul to outright heavy ones like D&D and Warhammer. My femme and I now have a weekly boardgame night (she actively challenges me at strategy games and it makes me so happy to have a partner that does 🥰)

Coffee shop dates: Go to a place where the shop has wifi (or you have a really good data plan with your phone), pop your headphones in, and just video call. I promise you, there will be more people there who find it sweet than those who find it weird.

Spotify Jam Sessions: I don't know about other music apps, but we both have spotify and it now has a function that let's you invite others to a shared listening session. Music is really important to both my femme and myself, and the ability for us to literally listen at the same time and talk about the music is truly quite lovely.

Parallel crafting time: Admittedly, I'm Neurodivergent as hell, and parallel play baseline is big for me. But pop on a videocall and make some crafts together. Bonus points if you get similar materials and share what you've made together

Call every night: no seriously, even if you both are busy the entire day and can't talk, call for at least a half hour or so to round your day off. That lack of certain forms of intimacy means you need to be really on top of other forms. On top of affirming love for one another. If you're trying to make long distance work long term, calling to just. Be with eachother is so important.

Schedule Time: As an extension of the above, just because you're calling every day, doesn't mean ensuring you have dedicated time for eachother isn't important. I'm talking like. An afternoon/evening once a week type thing. Be together for a long period of time while you can't be physically together.

Technology has honestly made what I always thought impossible for myself feel possible. The advent of videocalling my femme every day helps so much of the potential pitfalls that could have happened, and the best part is its more or less free (I pay for discord nitro but I digress). Don't get me wrong I'm having my hard days still. The inability to hold her when I want to take care of her is particularly bad. I show care and love through things like physical touch and food so much. But getting creative, and being consistent have really made this feel possible and sustainable until we get to the "next stages" bridge.

If you have ideas you found fun/helpful please toss em in the replies, tags, etc. Always open to more date ideas with my girl 💕

[nonclassyparty]

tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)

(prologue; when we were kids)

and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school

6 and 8 years old;

Your mom helped you build the snowman.

An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.

The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.

(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)

After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.

Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.

"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.

Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.

"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.

All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.

"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"

But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.

"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.

You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.

They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!

She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."

"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face. 

"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.

"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.

"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"

You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"

She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."

So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.

-

"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!" 

Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.

When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it. 

The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!

He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.

Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.

But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!

It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else! 

The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.

You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.

Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.

-

10 and 12 years old;

"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!" 

Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.

He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.

Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.

"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.

And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.

"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"

"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.

Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.

"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.

"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.

Stupid Beomseok.

-

Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose. 

There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?

Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.

He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.

Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.

Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.

 Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek. 

Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.

Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.

The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.

Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl. 

Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.

Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.

"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.

"Wha-?"

And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.

"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.

Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.

"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.

(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)

-

14 and 16 years old;

Wooyoung has a girlfriend.

You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.

Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.

That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking. 

You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.

He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too. 

His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.

So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.

He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.

And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.

You even saw them kiss. Just once.

When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.

Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.

Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder. 

She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.

"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.

Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.

You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included)  but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.

You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.

Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.

Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.

You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.

High school was scary.

"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.

"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"

You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."

A crush. As if!

She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.

-

"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.

He snorts, "Yeah."

You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.

The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.

He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.

And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.

Since you're such a crybaby.

He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.

Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.

"I think she has a crush on you."

He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.

"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"

"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."

Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."

A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.

He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.

Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder. 

"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"

"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."

Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"

She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.

As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.

-

18 and 20 years old;

From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.

Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.

Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo. 

To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.

You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.

So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.

Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.

With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.

Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either. 

Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.

But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence. 

All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.

With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.

Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace. 

He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.

It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.

It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.

"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"

You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"

"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."

"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."

He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"

After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.

A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;

"Do I really look funny?"

"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."

"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.

Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.

Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.

Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.

"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"

"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.

"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."

Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.

You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.

An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.

"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.

"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"

"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"

The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"

"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."

He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.

"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."

"Girls....like that?"

"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."

"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.

"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.

But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.

Eunwoo was one of those guys.

"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."

"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.

"Yeah, I'll walk home."

"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"

"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."

"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"

You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."

So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.

If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.

You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).

Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.

Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.

But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.

"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.

That ends up being your last straw. 

You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.

Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.

He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.

You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.

Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.

He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.

Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something. 

It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.

-

"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand. 

He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.

"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.

You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.

"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."

"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.

"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"

"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"

Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.

The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"

You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.

But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."

Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."

His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.

"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"

Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.

"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.

"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.

"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."

Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."

Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.

Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.

"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.

Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."

He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."

Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"

You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."

Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.

But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-

"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."

Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.

There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.

"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.

It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,

"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.

"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"

"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."

Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.

Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-" 

"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.

When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."

You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.

"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.

Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.

He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.

When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.

But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.

Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand. 

Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk. 

"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.

Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."

His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.

Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."

He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.

Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.

"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."

Likely thing to happen.

The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.

Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.

Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.

He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."

Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.

You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."

Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."

He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."

Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.

Why can't you just be nice to her?

The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.

He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.

You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.

"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."

He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.

Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.

Your brows raise.

"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."

You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.

"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."

And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.

-

19 and 21 years old;

"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!" 

Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.

The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.

"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.

Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression). 

So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.

And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.

"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."

You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.

In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.

But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.

In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.

You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team. 

"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.

The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.

‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just  ready to fight.

 You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall. 

"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red. 

With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.

Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-

"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"

At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,

"Number nine! Crybaby!"

There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.

A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.

The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.

You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-

"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"

Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years. 

Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.

When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.

You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;

"Jung Wooyoung!"

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

K's Master List

Hello there! I'm K and welcome to my side blog!

Minors please do not interact with my blog. I will block you. Blank blogs and ageless blogs have the same protocol. It's nothing personal, just trying to protect myself.

I do not do requests. It has nothing to do with you lovely people. I did requests for a previous fandom I was in and because I'm a natural people pleaser, it just became an unhealthy cycle. So, now I only write what I feel like writing.

Please do not copy or repost (i.e. copy and paste elsewhere - reblogging is a different thing and greatly appreciated) my work. This is the only place that I publish these works.

I don't do a tag list for all works since this side blog is exclusively dedicated to publishing and reblogging my own Top Gun content and an occasional announcement.

I do tag lists for ongoing stories/series. Simply reply to or reblog the work/series and say that you want to be tagged

To be tagged, you must have a reference to your age in your bio. No exceptions. It's nothing personal, but because this blog is 18+ Only, I'd look like a dumbass hypocrite if I tagged ageless blogs. Help me help you and put your age in your bio/pinned post.

Thank you for visiting and I hope you enjoy my works! My actual Master List is below the cut.

Works are separated by character. Characters with more than five posts have a separate master list. Major content warnings (i.e. pregnancy, death, etc.) are provided but please check each work for more specific warnings.

If you see a [*] symbol, it just means that work is more suggestive.

If a work is listed with "OC | Reader," the 'Reader' is biologically related to an established character (i.e. Maverick's daughter).

OC characters might have an established race/appearance, so check the summary/warnings of that work first.

Top Gun

Nick "Goose" Bradshaw

See Separate Master List

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Handyman - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

Summary: When it comes time to give your newborn daughter a bath in the kitchen sink, it conveniently breaks. Fortunately or unfortunately, Maverick is a handyman.

Top Gun: Maverick

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

See Separate Master List

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

See Separate Master List

Javy "Coyote" Machado

A Walk Down Memory Lane - Bradshaw!Fem! OC | Reader

Summary: Rooster and Tweety Bradshaw look through their mom’s belongings as Tweety’s wedding to Coyote approaches.

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia

Come Here - AFAB!Reader

Summary: You have your period. Fanboy takes care of you.

Family Man - GN!Spouse!Reader

Summary: After a long day at work, Fanboy returns home to complete his most important job: taking care of his family.

Robert "Bob" Floyd

See Separate Master List

Beau "Cyclone" Simpson

The Admirals Strike Back - Wife!Reader (Mitchell!Reader)

CW: Consensual and Very Much Legal Age-Gap Relationship (About 15 years); Non-Traditional Father-Daughter Relationship (Between Maverick and Reader)

Summary: Maverick knew that his somewhat estranged daughter was married. He just didn't know who she married.

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Bleeding Hearts - Male!Bradshaw!Twin!OC (Braedon)

CW: Hospitals; Exes; Unresolved Feelings; Best Friend's Brother

Summary: After the bird strike, Phoenix's ex, who just so happens to be Rooster's twin brother, comes to check up on her.

Daggers (All 7)

THE FAMILY AFFAIRS COLLECTION >

Mav's Reaction to Each of the Daggers Dating His Daughter - Mitchell!Fem! OC | Reader

Summary: Maverick finds out that his daughter is dating someone that he knows when she invites her new partner to dinner. And so he makes it his mission to greet them at the door first.

The Daggers and Their (Secret) Kids

CW: Pregnancy, see warnings for additional specific CWs by Dagger (include Reference Character Death, Strained Relationships, Divorce, etc.)

Summary: Headcanons about the families that the seven Daggers could have had going into TGM with, since there's nothing about their families mentioned in the movie.

The Love Game - Fem!Reader (Glitch)

CW: Unrequited Love; Angst; Emotional Angst; One-Sided Relationship; ‘He’s in Love with Someone Else’ Trope

Summary: Glitch has been in love with Hangman for years but he’s getting married to another woman.

A.N. Multiple Pairings: Hangman/Glitch; Hangman/Fem!OC; Glitch /Mystery Dagger

[beingsuneone]

Tragedy

PART ONE | PART TWO

SYNOPSIS: You hadn’t lived in the Spring Court for a long time, not since the Night Court murdered your entire family except yourself and your brother, Tamlin. You don’t think about it much, except when you argue with Rhysand, when it becomes a threat. You always promise him that you’re sick of him and you’re going to return to Spring but you never do. Until you do.

FANDOM: A Court Of Thorns And Roses

PAIRING(S): Rhysand x Tamlin’s Sister!Fem!Reader

RATING: G

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Cassian, Azriel, Tamlin, Mor, Amren

GENRE/AU: Pre-Amarantha/cusp of, some fluff, some angst, Lost Royalty Au (Tamlin’s lost Sister)

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

WARNINGS: Physical Violence (thanks Tam), mentions of arguments

A/N: the dividers looks best on dark mode, also dividers and header made my me :) also, this is both the first thing I’ve finished and the first fic I’ve posted since last year!! (My old fics aren’t up anymore) I reeeallly wanna write a pt 2.

DEDICATIONS: n/a

CREDITS: n/a

The snow crunches softly under your feet, which are already halfway to freezing and you’re only fifty paces outside of the townhouse.

You’d just had another fight with Rhysand and had threatened— for the millionth time— that you were going to return to Spring Court and live with your brother, Tamlin. The only member of your blood family still alive.

Both Rhysand and yourself know it’s not true. You’ve never made it down the first street in Velaris before you’re crawling back and begging Rhysand to forgive you. (Or visca versa)

Partly because you love him and largely because you’re terrified to return to Spring, No matter how petty your pride wishes to be.

When you were a young Fae, you had gone for a walk in the garden with your guard; It was late at night and you had been up due to nightmares. However, when you got closer to the Manor in Spring you heard a distinct scream and several loud noises, and your guard had immediately herded you as far as he could from the manor. All the way out of spring, and through the wall.

There, you were shunned by humans, and hunted by many; until a small family took you in, not caring about your pointy ears or inhuman beauty. They didn’t mind the flowers you magicked into existence or how you made their human babies laugh by shape-shifting. You were never dangerous to them, so they protected you until the day they died.

That was the day you returned to Prythian, mourning the loss of the only real family you had ever known.

Eventually you ended up in Night Court, wandering aimlessly around the vast nothingness of the court; you wondered why such a large and powerful court would seem to have almost no Fae in it— or even civilizations, for that matter. All you could see for miles and miles was mountains, trees, grass… anything in nature but no Fae.

You settled into a cave on the side of a cliff and foraged whatever food you could find. It wasn’t much but it kept you alive.

Until one day, a large winged man at the entrance of the cave, scared the ever-loving shit out of you.

“Oh- my Cauldron!” You had exclaimed, staring at who you now know to be Cassian.

He had given you a weird look and rudely remarked. “You’re awfully small for a Fae.” Then he amended, “although Amren is much smaller.”

You hadn’t known who Amren was, or what in the world he was talking about. “Who are you?” You asked him skeptically.

Cassian had opened his mouth to reply but then Rhysand walked through the door.

“I feel we should be asking you the same question.” He said smoothly. You had been immediately taken by him, his Deep Purple eyes and shadowy aura.

So much so, you almost hadn’t noticed the Mating Bond snapping into place.

Your eyes widened and one of his twitched as his cool expression dropped a moment. Rhysand, as good as he is at masks, wiped his emotions from his face a moment later.

He said, “Why don't you come along with us and tell us along the way.” He had paused and looked you up and down. “Certainly, it will be better than staying in this cave?”

You had just stumbled to your feet and nodded, taking Rhysand’s hand when he had extended to you.

That’s the moment that breaks you every time, what makes you turn right back around into Rhysand’s arms.

You remind yourself that he’s been with you for centuries now and he’s helped you heal more than you ever could on your own.

He’s the one who told you, despite his history with your family, that Tamlin was still alive; he was honest about his Family’s and his involvement in your family’s murder.

It had been hard not to hold it against him but you eventually forgave the man he is, not the kid he used to be. Besides, Spring had killed his family first, so, you supposed it had become an even playing field.

“Love,” Rhysand’s voice comes from behind you. “Please come back, I’m sorry.”

You turn around slowly, your eyes stinging with tears that threaten to flow. “Why do I do this every time?”

He sighs, and gently laces his fingers with yours. “We don’t think rationally when we’re arguing, Darling. It’s okay,” He pulls you closer and you feel yourself relax.

“Besides,” he continues. “I think you should go visit your brother— as much as I hate the thought of it.”

You pull back and look up at him. “Surely, he can’t have grown to be that terrible, Rhysand, he was a good brother when I left.” You think back to before you’d left but it’s so long ago it feels a bit blurry and out-of-reach. “Maybe inattentive but certainly not mean.”

Rhysand looks into your eyes, there’s an emotion loaded in his that you don’t take the time to decipher it because you aren’t sure you want to know. “My personal feelings skew how I see him, Darling, you have to see for yourself.” He pushes a stand of hair out of your face, and gently kisses your forehead. “Maybe it will be different with his own sister.”

You rest your forehead on his chest and he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Can we go back inside now?” You ask quietly. “My feet are freezing.”

Rhysand just chuckles and disconnects from you, save for taking one of your hands and leading you back towards the townhouse. “My love, next time you threaten to run away, please wear a coat and proper shoes.” He says playfully, flashes you a teasing smile.

You mock-glare at him, but can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face. “No, actually, I think I’d quite like to freeze to death before I ever make it out of Night.”

“Of course you would.”

…..

“How far you make it this time?” Cassian smiles when you and Rhysand walk in the door, Azriel is already building a fire and Mor is smiling brightly in a chair in front of the budding flame. Amren is sitting in one of the other chairs grumbling about the lack of good blood to drink or something— you loved her but she’d always confused you.

“Didn’t make it down the block.” Rhysand says back to Cassian, before he sits you down in front of the fire to warm up.

You shrug him off, not needing him to baby you. “Knock it off, Cassian.” You say roughly, not actually mad but feeling even colder now that you’re in a warm space. You turn your head back to Rhysand, who's already leaning on a wall across the room. “And you, Mister Automatic-Heater, come back here.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He says as Mor snickers at you. Rhysand sits down next to you and pulls you into him, using his magic to warm you up. You both know the fire never works fast enough.

You sit there for a long time, just lost in Rhysand’s presence, long enough that the others clear the room and go off to do their own things.

It’s only when everyone is finally out of earshot that Rhysand leans down, brushes his lips against the shell of your ear and whispers, “I love you, darling.”

You shiver and turn your head to face him before you place a kiss on his cheek and whisper back, “I love you more.”

“Impossible.” He shakes his head, pulling your face upwards, with two fingers under your jaw and his thumb under your chin.

You reach a hand over his and brush his hair out of his face, before you push his arm down and settle your hand on his cheek.

Then, you press your lips to his.

…..

“Okay,” Rhysand sighs, you know he’s nervous about leaving you here. “I probably shouldn’t enter Spring, so I’ll wait here. Use the bond if you need me, please.”

You place a hand on his cheek, and get closer to him. “Rhysand, I promise you, I’ll be okay.” You swipe your thumb soothingly on his cheeks. “I have to do this.”

He nods, placing his own hand over yours, while nuzzling into your hand. “I know, my love, you can absolutely handle yourself.” He pulls back, and gives you a reassuring smile. “Alright, go.”

You nod your head once and walk over the border to Spring; before you take another step, you turn back. “I love you, Rhysand.” You say, assuredly. The words have more weight to them than normal, like you’re trying to convince both yourself and Rhysand that everything is going be alright.

Luckily, the Manor rests right on one of the edges of spring, so it’s easy to find after all this time.

After a few minutes, you reach the front gates. A guard tilts his spear into your path so you have to stop.

“What is your business here?” He says gruffly.

You straighten your back and try to find the most regal parts of yourself. “I am Y/N of spring court, High Lord, Tamlin’s sister.” You're sure you said it so demandingly that he’d just let you in but the guard just looks you up and down.

“Spring Court High Fae… In Night Court Clothes?” He shakes his head. “Plus our Y/N died several Centuries ago.”

You sigh. “I don’t need to convince you, I just need to speak to Tamlin. Please.”

The guard stamps his spear, as if to tell you to go away.

So, you pull out your last playing card. “Okay, Fine. As the High Lady of the Night Court, I demand a meeting with your High Lord.” You pause. “Unless you’d like to directly deny both myself and my High Lord?”

This sends the guard into a tizzy. He opens the gate and leads you inside. He abandons you there though, and leaves you with a red-haired man.

“Who are you?” You ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “I am Lucien. Who are you, and how did you convince the guard to let you in?”

You straighten up once again. “I am Tamlin’s sister, Y/n.”

He looks you up and down and gives you a ‘you’re joking, right?’ Look. “You’re in Night Court clothes.”

You throw your arms in the air and let them fall back down. “Yes, thank you for stating the obvious. Obviously, I believed all my family to be dead and sought a home elsewhere.”

“In the Night Court. The home of the people who killed your family.” His voice is flat.

“I ended up there, but it is not where I originally went. My personal guard, Claude, took me to the human world to keep me safe from the previous High Lord of the Night Court. He was hunted down for being Fae.” You stop, feeling the annoyance bubbling under your skin; still, Lucien looks as though you’ve just spun an elaborate story. “Just let me see Tamlin, he will recognize me.”

Lucien doesn’t move.

You continue. “Do not make me use my status again please.”

This catches his attention. “What status? because if you really are from Spring Court, you certainly don’t have any.”

Rolling your eyes, you pull out the ‘High Lady’ card, once again. “If you must know, and I’d much prefer you leave me to tell this to Tamlin, but I am the High Lady of the Night Court, and that is how I got inside.” You stare at him for a moment. “Can I see my brother now, or must I find him myself?”

Lucien practically scoffs at this point. “Now I really don’t believe you. It’s unbelievable enough that Tamlin’s sister would live in Night Court but, High Lady? That is not even a real title.”

You are really starting to get annoyed. “Okay, well, first, I didn’t even know that Night Court was the one to kill my family until I’d already met Rhysand, and second, we’re mates! I don’t really get to choose that, do I?”

You’re about to say something else but you stop. “Why in the world am I arguing with you. I don’t even know you. Where is Tamlin?”

“I’m right here.” A new voice enters the conversation; it’s deep but familiar, and there’s a new edge to it that makes your skin crawl.

When you turn to face him, he stops in his tracks. His eyes widen a fraction, and his lips purse.

“Y/n?” He says, taking a tentative step towards you. “Is that you?”

You sigh in relief. “Yes, it is. Although I’ve had a hard time convincing everyone else of that.” You close the gap between yourself and your brother and hug him.

“I thought you were dead.” He says quietly. “We never found your body. I assumed the awful Night Court took your body just as our father took their wings.”

You freeze at the mention of the wings. They are Rhysand’s Mother’s and Sister’s wings. Then Tamlin seems to notice my attire. The air turns cold, a power you thought only Rhysand and maybe the Winter Court possessed.

“Why are you wearing Night Court clothes?” He says, tugging on your sleeve. You pull away from him, just a few paces.

“When I escaped,” you start, feeling inexplicably nervous as Tamlin stares down at you. “Claude took me to the human world. I lived there for at least a century before my human family died and I came back here.” You stop, gauging his reaction. “Then, I assumed everyone else had died that night and couldn’t bear to come back to spring, So…. I just walked, and walked, and— you get the point.

“Eventually I ended up in the Night Court and I lived in a cave for a long time before Rhysand found me and—”

Tamlin cuts you off. “Rhysand? Why do you talk about him with so much familiarity?” His teeth grind and he looks positively fuming. “You do know that he’s the reason our family is dead, right?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“You would betray our family like this and become part of the Court who caused our demise?”

“No, Tamlin—”

He turns his face away from you, his fists clenched. “No sister of mine would behave this way.”

Your mouth drops open, but you snap it shut. “Tamlin, when I met Rhysand, I didn’t know who killed our family.” You explain calmly. “I was just a starving woman, living in a Night Court cave.”

He glares down at you, an air of superiority hanging around his head. “And how did you learn that it was Night Court? Who killed them?”

You take a deep breath. “He told me. Honestly, truthfully, he simply told me.” You stretch your shoulders nervously, and prepare to tell him that thing that you suppose will anger him most.

It's a reasonable reaction, you think; after all, if you’d been in his place, you’d be plenty angry that your sister was conversing with people who killed your entire family.

Before you can get out though, Tamlin speaks again. “You will come live in Spring with me.” It’s not a question, he is telling you what you must do.

Your eyes soften. “I cannot do that.”

“You can and you will.” Tamlin says with a finality in his voice.

You give him a pointed look now and reiterate, “No, I cannot and I will not.” A tug on the bond pulls your attention away briefly, and you realize how sick with worry Rhysand must be. You tug back to reassure him. “Tamlin, I live in the Night Court, that is my home.”

You know sugar coating your situation will not help, but based on his reactions, it’s becoming hard to get out.

“This will be your home again.” He says it so plainly, and though he tries to leave no room for argument, you know that you must argue.

“I’m the High Lady of the Night Court, Tamlin. This cannot ever be my home again.” You say sternly.

He falls quiet and unmoving for just a moment before he explodes.

“Not only have you been cohorting with our enemies, but you have married the worst one of them all?” He roars, you haven’t heard someone yell at you so thoroughly for a very long time. Even when you argue, Rhysand never yells.

“Rhysand is not a bad man, Tamlin, no matter what you may think!” You snap back.

It takes you a moment to register what happens next, but, before you can, you're on the floor and your cheek has a harsh sting.

When you compose yourself and realize what happens, you whisper. “Rhysand was right about you.”

His face goes red once more but he just releases a strained breath and spits, “High Lady’s do not exist, no matter what he tells you, dear sister.” Then with the meanest sneer you’ve ever seen in your life, he says, “Do not come crawling back to me when your life falls into shambles.”

You rise to your feet, dust off your pants, and try to retain your composure. “You are not the brother I remember, Tamlin.” Then, you turn and begin walking to the door. “In fact, I am not sure you are that brother at all.”

The manor’s door shut behind you and you tredge back to Spring’s edge where you know Rhysand’s comforting arms will be waiting.

You see him before he sees you, but his jaw clenches as soon as he does.

“What did he do to you.” He says it so flatly it doesn’t sound like a question; he closes the distance between you two and runs his thumb over what you assume is a mark on your face.

You try to make light of the situation to hold back the tears that are gathering in your eyes. “Things got a bit physical.” You amend, “on his end, at least.”

Rhysand does not appreciate the joke. “I should’ve gone with you, he never would have tried anything in front of me.”

You shrug. “I suppose that shows the kind of man he is.”

Rhysand turns your cheeks to get a better look at the mark. “No, Darling, I think this does.”

He lets his hand fall from your face, and so you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your stinging face in his chest. “You were right, Rhys. I should have listened to you.”

You can feel him shake his head. “No, you needed to see for yourself; I should’ve been there to prevent the worst of it.”

You pull away from him and look back towards the Manor. You spot Tamlin watching the two of you from a balcony, but you are far enough away, you can’t make out his expression.

Rhysand stares back, a silent promise for retribution, one way or another.

“Can we please just go home?” You tug on Rhysand’s sleeve. “I want to rid my mind of this interaction.”

He looks back down at you and smiles tenderly. “Of course, my love.”

…..

You had fallen down into your shared bed with Rhysand and let the tears silently fall while Rhysand goes off to do whatever it is he needs to do.

You had told him you wanted a minute alone; after probably only ten minutes you had drifted off to sleep.

Now, you’re being shaken awake by Mor.

“Y/n, wake up.” She sounds panicked so you shoot up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You say, as your heart pounds, every fear you’ve ever had races through your mind.

She looks deep into your eyes. “We can’t leave Velaris,” her expression reflects sorrow. “And Rhysand is gone.”

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

[haru-natsuka]

Second Male Leads Are all Yanderes but I Won't Rest Until I Win My Love Back (Female Reader x OCs)

CHAPTER 2

Story will start after synopsis

Every second male lead who appeared in this world had a hidden yandere side that can emerge at any moment and turn them into a twisted and obsessive villain.

As someone with a severe case of the "second male lead syndrome", you are determined to pursue your love for the second male lead, leaving the original male lead to become the second.

While you were busy chasing after the second male lead, the original male lead kept on bothering you and trying to get you to choose him instead.

"Don't you dare to come any closer!" You snap at the original male lead, your tone sharp and firm.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me? You?" The yandere stares at you, a menacing look in their eyes, as their body slowly moves closer.

"Too close! Step back!"

"Your words mean nothing to me. You can't control me. I will come as close as I please, you can't stop me."

As if a yandere was not enough, when you chose to ignore the original male lead, another second male lead suddenly entered your life, further complicating the situation.

The yandere and the upcoming second male lead both seem determined to have you for themselves, and they were both very possessive and pushy in their approaches to you.

You just wanted to be happy with your true love. Yandere or not, you would stick with your crush!

CHAPTER 1 <<

CHAPTER 2: THE REJECTION

"It's alright Adrian. My love is only for you" His eyes widened as you wiped his tears away, your unexpected gesture making him feel even more loved and cherished.

"I know and that's the reason that I love you too, Y/N. Your love is the only one I desire"

Although his tone had cracked slightly due to his tear and emotion, he spoke with sincerity and genuine heartfelt affection toward you, as he acknowledged and accepted your feelings towards him. His words carried a gentle and caring presence but also a sense of affection and love as he held your chin, gently drawing your face closer towards him and gave you a sweet kiss and!-

... If only Adrian would reply with such a kind and accepting response, you would had screamed in joy. You would welcome death out of happiness. It had been countless time since you confess your love to him but his reply had always remained the same...

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Adrian replied, his tones were gentle and empathetic as he smile apologetically. "But... I appreciate your confession" He continued, only replying out of courtesy.

A tissue would not be enough to amend your broken heart. Where was the bucket for your tears to collect all of your pain and sorrow? This harsh reality was too much to bear. You wanted to weep due to this rejection!

You wiped the crocodile tears at the corner of your eyes with your handkerchief. Whenever, there was involvement of Adrian, you would be this extra dramatic. It was not like you did not know the result, but it hurts too much to face your real emotion.

"I figure you will reject me, Adrian," You hide the lower half of your face with the handkerchief as you stared at the ground in pretend despair. "What to do... fate do this awful things to us but I will not succumb to such awful setup! That's why please be patient in receiving my confession again. I'm confident with my endless dedication, you will eventually accept me."

You took Adrian's hands in yours and shook them excitedly up and down. It was a little rude but your crush was too kind to reject your action. Instead of being mad at you, he simply smiled and lightly let his fingers the back of your hands as a soft chuckle escaped from his lips. It was so melodic with the "ha ha ha" rhyme. A true masterpiece!

'My man is a true angel! No, angels are existed because of him!'

He understood you were simply trying to cheer him up after the unfortunate event of earlier. He could heard his close friend and crush were still engaging in a conversation that he never wanted to hear.

Why they did it when he was with them? Should he be happy for his best friends happiness? Then, what about his happiness? Squeezing your hands in response to his sadness as he looked back at you, still maintaining the soft smile that never reached his eyes.

"Thank you, Y/N, for being by my side" Adrian sincerely said from the bottom of his heart but still, you dislike the look of his that about to cry. Your lips formed a smirk as you decided to tease Adrian, a hint of mischief in your tone as you chose to brighten your crush's mood.

"Is that an invitation for me to be by your side 24/7 per hour?" You asked playfully, eyes twinkling with delight as you pull his hands closer to you.

"Not that long though." He chuckled, "You cannot enter the boy's dormitory."

"I can disguise as one!" You giggled as you imagined the possibilities. "We can even share a room and spend the night together! Just thinking about getting to talk with you till night make my blood rush..." His cheeks reddened slightly at the words you had just said without much thought.

He released your hold on his hands, gently running his fingers through your dark brown hair as he removed some leaves that stuck from your hiding early. His gestures were gentle and caring, as if he was handling a delicate porcelain doll. This was the guy you always loved, gentle, considerate and kind. Happiness and affection welling within you as he continued to run his fingers through your hair.

"A young lady like yourself should not spend the night with a man alone, and you will immediately get caught by the guard, Y/N. A pretty lady like you would be too radiant for a person to ignore" Adrian warm warning and compliment made you blush more. You could not help but to stare at his beautiful pair of blue eyes.

'Did Adrian just call me pretty? I can feel flowers blooming in my heart! Is that even possible?'

Instead of spending time with his close friends like usual, that day, Adrian spent his entire day with you. He even drew a portrait of you beautifully, depicting the rich dark brown of your hair. The portrait was so lifelike that it looked as if it had been taken from a photo.

However, you were born with dark brown eyes, just bit lighter from your hair colour. It was not hard to get the colour right given Adrian dedication for his paintings.

'But why, Adrian? My eyes are not purple like Liesel...'

You tempted to rip the painting apart but it was a gift by Adrian. He consciously rejected you and even he subconscious mind did the same. You still kept the painting carefully in your diary... only after you poke holes at the eyes area. The painting look creepy with hollow pair of eyes, but it was better than having those purple things staring into your soul.

>> CHAPTER 3

[babygirl-diaz]

Heart to Heart to Heart

This fic is dedicated to the anon who sent me an ask saying "Don't write poly, it's a sin." I wish you a pleasant day and enjoy your fic!

***

It was their one-month anniversary and Eddie wasn't sure Buck and Tommy even remembered it. Or if they even wanted to celebrate it. He was too embarrassed to ask. This was his first relationship with two other people and he was so into them. They lit up his entire world and made him feel something no other relationship ever did.

"What's wrong?"

Eddie looked up to see Hen giving him a concerned look.

"Nothing," Eddie shook his head.

"Sure looks like something," Hen replied and sat down next to him on the sofa. "Is everything okay with Buck and Tommy?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. I just- just-" Eddie sighed before saying, "-When I was with Shannon, we kinda celebrated every little milestone we had. From our first month together to our first kiss, etc. And I loved that. I loved having a silly little anniversary for everything. And the smile it brought to Shanon's face always made my day better."

Hen nodded along but it was clear from her expression that she didn't quite get where Eddie was going with this.

"-It's my one-month anniversary with Buck and Tommy," he explained.

"And you wanna celebrate it?" Hen asked and a small smile twitched on her lips.

"I do," Eddie replied. "I really do."

"Then go for it. What's the problem?" Hen continued to ask.

"You have to understand, I've never been in a relationship with a man before, let alone two men. So I'm just wondering if they're gonna wanna celebrate it or they'll find the whole thing ridiculous," Eddie replied and looked down at his hands.

"Well, you'll never know if you don't ask," Hen told him.

"But what if they laugh at me?" Eddie asked and couldn't help but pout a little.

"Then do you really wanna be with them?" Hen asked.

Eddie was taken aback by that question, but he knew Hen was right.

That evening, Eddie stopped by a flower shop and bought two bouquets, one for Buck and another for Tommy. They were simple bouquets of red roses because he was cheesy like that.

They were going to meet at Tommy's that night and when Eddie reached his house, he stayed in the truck a little longer than necessary, just looking at the flowers on the passenger seat. He wondered if he should take them. In the end, he just said fuck it and took the bouquets with him. He knocked on Tommy's door and waited patiently for him to answer.

"Hey, baby," Tommy greeted him cheerily after opening the door.

"Hey," Eddie replied awkwardly.

"Hey, Eds!" Buck appeared behind Tommy. "What's wrong?" He asked with concern in his voice.

"Nothing," Eddie tried to assure him. "Um... I got these for you two!" He quickly told them, handing them the bouquets.

Both of their faces lit up like Christmas trees as they took the flowers from him.

"For our first month anniversary?" Tommy asked.

That took Eddie aback. "You remembered?"

"Of course we did! Doh!" Buck chuckled and stepped aside to let Eddie in.

Once Eddie was inside, both Buck and Tommy planted a kiss on each of his cheeks.

Eddie blushed profusely at that.

"Come on, gotta show you something." Buck took Eddie's hand and led him to the living room.

Eddie turned around to look at Tommy for answers but he just shrugged.

"Ta-da!"

Eddie's eyes widened when he saw the scene before him. There was a table set up for the three of them with all sorts of food and a candle in the middle of the table. There were also two sets of the same red rose bouquet sitting on the table. "Wh-" He started to say in disbelief.

"Happy anniversary, baby!" Tommy said in his ear after wrapping his arms around Eddie's middle.

"I can't believe you guys did this!" Eddie said.

Buck wrapped his arm around Eddie from the front, sandwiching him between himself and Tommy. He kissed Eddie's forehead, making him smile. "You love anniversaries. So could we not celebrate our very first one?"

"How did you know I love anniversaries?" Eddie looked at him confused.

"You told me, silly. Don't you remember?" Buck asked.

"I did?"

"Yeah, you were once telling me about Shannon and how you two enjoyed celebrating every little anniversary together," Buck replied.

"So we figured we should continue the tradition," Tommy added, kissing behind Eddie's ear.

"You two-" Eddie started to say but he really teared up this time. "I can't believe-"

"Well, you better believe, baby," Buck told him and kissed his forehead. "And the best part is that we all ended up bringing each other red roses. We're such saps."

"That we are," Tommy agreed. "There's another first time we haven't had yet. At least not with you," he said pulling away from Eddie.

Buck did too and wrapped his arm around Tommy's waist instead, pulling him close.

"I- I'm still not ready," Eddie told them awkwardly and shifted from one foot to another.

"That's not what we meant, baby," Buck assured him.

Eddie looked at them confused and Tommy chuckled before saying, "Our first kiss. We haven't had that yet."

"But we've kissed before," Eddie told them, still feeling confused.

"Yeah, we kissed at Maddie's wedding when you pulled both of us close and planted a sloppy kiss on our lips. But I am talking about our first proper kiss, where you let us explore that pretty mouth of yours," Buck suggested.

Eddie looked between the two of them and blushed again.

"We of course don't have to if you're not ready," Tommy quickly assured him.

"Yeah, of course not," Buck added.

"No, no, I am ready. I want it. I just- I didn't realize that we haven't kissed since the wedding," Eddie replied.

Buck and Tommy looked at each other before taking each of Eddie's hands and leading him to the couch. They all sat down and Buck pulled Eddie into his lap.

"Do you wanna go first?" Buck asked Tommy.

"No, be my guest," Tommy replied and kissed Buck once.

Eddie felt his heart thrum in his chest as he watched them kiss.

Buck then pulled away and tilted Eddie's chin up, bringing him forward, and kissing him. It was a slow kiss. Very different from the one he shared with Buck and Tommy a month ago. He opened his mouth when Buck's tongue traced his lips and let him in. Buck was respectful and didn't push Eddie. He rested his hands on Eddie's waist and left them there. He also let Eddie set the pace of the kiss. Eddie felt like his whole body was on fire. He grasped onto Buck's shirt and pulled him closer so that he could feel his body and his heart pressed against him. They soon parted for air and looked at each other. "You good?" Buck asked.

"Better than good," Eddie replied and wondered if his lips were swollen just like Buck's.

"Holy shit, that was hot," Tommy chimed in. "I don't know if I'm ready to follow that."

"Tommy just shut up and kiss me," Eddie told him, feeling a bit more confident, and slipped into his lap instead, straddling him.

"God, you're so beautiful," Tommy pointed out and stroked his cheek with his thumb and pointer finger.

Eddie leaned in and kissed him instead. Tommy's arms wound around Eddie's waist and he pulled him closer as he kissed him. Like Buck, he took it slow as well. His lips were rougher than Buck's and waited for Eddie to let him in out of his own will. But when Eddie let him in, it almost felt like he was ready to consume him. His tongue wet and heavy in Eddie's mouth, explored every inch of it and he drew out moans from him, which he then swallowed back. They kept kissing for what seemed like hours before coming up for air.

Eddie felt dazed after kissing him. "You two are going to be the death of me," he told them when he found his voice again.