#They also truly can’t imagine never once wanting to be with a man

[h3artshapedkisses]

It’s the way you can tell most of the lesbian community are full of bi-hets just by how enraged they are by a lesbian saying she’s proud to have never kissed, dated or had sex with a man. Why are you offended by homosexuality? Shouldn’t you be happy for her? Hm..

Also I hate when the fauxbians who have never had sex with a man are like “I just never happened to have sex with a men because no man wanted me lolll I’m a gold star but ashamed to call myself one :((.” Like as very femme young woman who never has done anything even slightly romantic with a men but has had boys ask me to be their girlfriend and even male friends try to ask me for intimacy since a very young age, and has had to put her foot down and firmly say no ever single time, its so weird that they are deliberately erasing gold star’s life experiences to just being “ugly”. If you would have then you are a bisexual. Full stop.

[honeyhotteoks]

lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page. 

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath. 

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it. 

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face. 

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you. 

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today. 

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more. 

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page. 

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess. 

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative. 

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry. 

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through. 

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt. 

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs. 

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already. 

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson. 

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement. 

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’. 

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him. 

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,” 

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat. 

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,” 

Your breath comes a little more quickly. 

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,” 

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him. 

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?” 

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand. 

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,” 

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already. 

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling. 

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?” 

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait. 

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?” 

You smile again. 

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?” 

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot. 

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.” 

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open. 

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,” 

Your chest thumps hard. 

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.” 

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention. 

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?” 

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady. 

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen. 

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.” 

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions. 

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?” 

Fuck. 

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,” 

“Fuck,” You whisper. 

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,” 

You’re nodding again. 

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.” 

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs. 

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due. 

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,” 

Your legs spread a little wider. 

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants. 

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing. 

You love him like this. 

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,” 

You pull it back reluctantly. 

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,” 

You comply immediately. 

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,” 

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone. 

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,” 

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear. 

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,” 

Your breath catches. 

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,” 

A moan bubbles up out of you. 

“Hands off.” 

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,” 

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next. 

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,” 

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause. 

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,” 

You follow his instructions. 

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,” 

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot. 

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?” 

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting. 

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest. 

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,” 

You don’t have to be told twice. 

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,” 

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to. 

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,” 

Pleasure rocks in your gut. 

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,” 

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,” 

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling. 

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?” 

Pressure drops in your belly. 

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,” 

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back. 

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.” 

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful. 

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you. 

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,” 

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can. 

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,” 

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,” 

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel. 

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,” 

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere. 

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,” 

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot. 

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,” 

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over. 

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,” 

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you. 

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes. 

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,” 

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you. 

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.” 

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you. 

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,” 

You blush again. 

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,” 

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling. 

You are so, so fucked. 

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat. 

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post. 

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company. 

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit. 

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day. 

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five? 

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall. 

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries. 

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention. 

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now. 

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone. 

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here. 

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning. 

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering. 

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby? 

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found. 

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?” 

You’re frozen. 

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows. 

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,” 

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,” 

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks. 

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?” 

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,” 

“Iced or hot?” He asks. 

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me? 

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,” 

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,” 

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed. 

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest. 

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line. 

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,” 

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?” 

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,” 

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

You shake your head, “No, first time,” 

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head. 

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,” 

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,” 

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?” 

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,” 

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer. 

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,” 

Blush creeps up your neck. 

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head. 

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.” 

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?” 

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up. 

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,” 

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,” 

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,” 

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age. 

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella. 

“Seven,” 

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,” 

“Tomorrow,” You nod. 

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,” 

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,” 

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.” 

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,” 

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,” 

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!” 

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,” 

“See you again,” 

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer. 

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account. 

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual. 

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home. 

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening. 

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos. 

He’s lovely. 

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something. 

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table. 

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?” 

“The train,” You glance outside. 

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,” 

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,” 

“Oh,” 

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?” 

Flirting, then. 

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?” 

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,” 

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block. 

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits. 

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles. 

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns. 

Do you tell him? Do you lie? 

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t. 

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking. 

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts. 

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.” 

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?” 

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes. 

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,” 

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?” 

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,” 

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?” 

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,” 

“Recognized me?” 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,” 

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,” 

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down. 

It was so, so nice while it lasted. 

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,” 

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,” 

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,” 

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,” 

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire. 

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch. 

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,” 

“Undrinkable?” You blink. 

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,” 

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?” 

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,” 

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait. 

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you. 

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,” 

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly. 

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?” 

“No,” You tell him firmly. 

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you. 

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,” 

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,” 

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,” 

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.” 

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you. 

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,” 

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,” 

“Oh,” You soften. 

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious. 

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,” 

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,” 

“Right,” You murmur. 

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” 

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting. 

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.” 

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking. 

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,” 

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,” 

You wait, your stomach in knots. 

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks. 

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,” 

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm. 

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,” 

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues. 

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,” 

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.” 

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes. 

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,” 

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening. 

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,” 

A small smile appears on his lips. 

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,” 

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,” 

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?” 

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,” 

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,” 

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?” 

You nod again. 

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?” 

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much. 

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.” 

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,” 

You nod. 

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him. 

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,” 

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words. 

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.” 

He nods once, his shoulders tense again. 

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,” 

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks. 

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,” 

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.” 

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.” 

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks. 

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,” 

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?” 

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,” 

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe. 

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday. 

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air. 

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?” 

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,” 

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.” 

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again. 

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?” 

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too. 

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,” 

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,” 

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him. 

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,” 

“Right,” You blush darker. 

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?” 

You nod quickly. 

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.” 

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time. 

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.” 

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs. 

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,” 

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,” 

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?” 

You nod. 

“And the roleplay?” He asks. 

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,” 

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips. 

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,” 

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?” 

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,” 

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater. 

  “Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,” 

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan. 

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,” 

The button opens. 

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,” 

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?” 

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons. 

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead. 

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,” 

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,” 

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly. 

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,” 

You nod, “So good,” 

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,” 

You’re close. 

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,” 

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right. 

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,” 

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,” 

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,” 

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,” 

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips. 

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,” 

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,” 

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming. 

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,” 

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple. 

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,” 

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge. 

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,” 

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.  

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move. 

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,” 

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise. 

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” 

You shiver, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,” 

“I think I��ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile. 

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,” 

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes. 

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,” 

“So come inside me,” You smile. 

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,” 

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,” 

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,” 

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,” 

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,” 

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions. 

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?” 

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,” 

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh. 

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,” 

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?” 

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit. 

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands. 

“Yes,” You answer quickly. 

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,” 

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real. 

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real. 

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?” 

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers. 

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you. 

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,” 

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble. 

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?” 

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body. 

“Soon,” He promises. 

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit. 

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,” 

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,” 

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,” 

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something. 

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor. 

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,” 

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,” 

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,” 

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing. 

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,” 

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight. 

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks. 

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,” 

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?” 

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. 

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,” 

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,” 

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,” 

  “It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,” 

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair. 

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,” 

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,” 

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,” 

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,” 

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up. 

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,” 

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes. 

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss. 

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,” 

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,” 

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss. 

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,” 

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs. 

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you. 

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,” 

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?” 

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,” 

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs. 

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you. 

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants. 

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?” 

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet. 

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly. 

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he. 

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,” 

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed. 

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,” 

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him. 

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,” 

You nod. 

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,” 

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire. 

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs. 

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you. 

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,” 

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,” 

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open. 

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust. 

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress. 

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low. 

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you. 

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,” 

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins. 

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?” 

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,” 

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,” 

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him. 

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?” 

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,” 

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll. 

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips. 

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,” 

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer. 

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?” 

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together. 

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,” 

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan. 

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,” 

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin. 

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself. 

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,” 

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,” 

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you. 

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side. 

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?” 

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion. 

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you. 

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,” 

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,” 

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly. 

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little. 

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock. 

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,” 

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,” 

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,” 

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,” 

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,” 

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now. 

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,” 

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,” 

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,” 

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,” 

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips. 

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,” 

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet. 

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed. 

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble. 

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,” 

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good. 

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours. 

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,” 

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,” 

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly. 

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,” 

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling. 

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,” 

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge. 

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock. 

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?” 

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,” 

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest. 

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,” 

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together. 

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees. 

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.  

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment. 

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open. 

“Hey,” He murmurs. 

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,” 

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands. 

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you. 

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?” 

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise. 

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,” 

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,” 

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?” 

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones. 

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water. 

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam. 

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you. 

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all. 

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip. 

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap. 

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,” 

You look up from the rippling water. 

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks. 

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,” 

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.” 

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand. 

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.” 

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together. 

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?” 

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little. 

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,” 

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,” 

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back. 

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,” 

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly. 

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,” 

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,” 

“You like me,” You peck his lips. 

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,” 

[mockerycrow]

Emergency Contact (2/2) (Ghost x GN!Reader)

-> PART ONE OF EMERGENCY CONTACT

Summary: You never expected Simon to come to your aid, and Simon assures you that he would come every single time.

A/N: I genuinely appreciate the support of this concept <3 I truly did not expect so many people to want a part two, so here it is! please rb with what you think, i love to hear y’all’s thoughts! i’m honestly not the happiest with this, but i did what i could. i may rewrite this in the future.

[WARNINGS: Hospital setting, fluff, hurt/comfort, medical inaccuracies, ooc Simon.]

IT TAKES YOU FOUR DAYS to wake up. Four entire days for you to even move an eye muscle. Four days of anxiety, of Simon lying in wait, waiting for sign of life. Despite the doctors’ assurances of your condition, the confirmed brain activity, Simon was panicking.

He just couldn’t lose you, too. Not when he has such a great thing going for him, so when he learns you’re in a mini coma—induced by your own body to allow your body to rest and heal, he can’t help but freak out. His mind screaming that you’ll never wake up, that you’ll always by lying in a hospital bed, until someone in your family decides to come and pull the plug. He tried to keep himself preoccupied—he read books and articles on his phone, memorized each time the nurses came in to check your vitals, he even texted Price an update about his situation—it wasn’t much information, but he said something along the lines of something happened at home and he thinks his leave with have to be for a month, but there’s a good chance it might be longer.

Simon barely left the room—he couldn’t. Not when at any moment you could wake up, or any moment you could’ve died. He didn’t manage much sleep, either. Every time he managed to fall asleep, the same nightmare would play; what he imagined how your accident went. He imagined you walking down on the sidewalk towards the crosswalk down a street you both frequented together. You were always careful when walking—he knew you were having car troubles for the last few weeks. You press the button on the crosswalk pole to trigger the lights to turn red. Cars slow to a stop, and your crosswalk signs turns to a walking man. You quickly hurry across the crosswalk, but a car comes speeding down—and smashes right into you, full speed, sending you across the road. Simon is just standing there, watching. Completely unable to help. He always wakes up once he walks up to your mangled body.

Simon gasps quietly and jolts awake again, blinking the bleariness away, and the slow beeps and exhales of your machines come back. His rapid heartbeat begins to slow as he realizes that he’s still beside your hospital bed. He looks at you—you’re no longer on a ventilator, but you have an oxygen mask, a way to help your collapsed lung. It makes him feel a bit better, but Simon would very much prefer your eyes to be open, your fingers moving against the blanket you’d likely hate the texture of when you woke up—if you woke up—and he would want to feel your muscles moving under your skin. He also tries to ignore the fear of you having Amnesia after waking up.

Simon isn’t sure when he laid his head back down, but it shoots back up the second he hears a quiet noise escape you—it’s the first sign of life to Simon, his wide eyes scanning your body. His eyes fly to your hand, your fingers twitching a bit. Simon grabs ahold of your twitching hand immediately and looks at your face and he isn’t so sure why his heart is pounding beneath his ribs, but he doesn’t have too much time to focus on it as your arm twitches. It’s like you’re slowly coming back to life in a weird way, but Simon finds himself totally silent, like he can’t find the right words to say just yet. He doesn’t mean to hold his breath, but he does as he watches your shoulder twitch next, and then your eyebrows furrow. Your eyes are already closed, but you squeeze your eyelids together harder. Simon realizes that you haven’t had your eyes open for about four days, so he quickly dims the rooms lights and returns right back next to you. Simon reaches for your hand and gently holds it, watching you slowly get your surroundings.

Your eye flutter open slowly and you blink, and it’s obvious you don’t immediately process that you’re in the hospital. A croaky moan of discomfort leaves you and Simon sits up, the worry eating at his stomach. You look at Simon with unfocused and exhausted eyes and your eyebrows furrow again and your lips part.

“..Simon?”

He releases the breath he was holding and he nods, his black mask slightly moving as his lips move. “I’m right here, [name]. Right here.” Simon absolutely hates how shaky his voice is, and he watches you bit your lip as your eyes begin to fill with tears. His heart skips a beat—what’s wrong? Are you in pain? Are you scared? Simon decides he needs to know because he can fix it, he can help you, right? He needs to fix it—“Y.. You came for me..” You whisper, blinking a tear rolls down your cheek to your jaw quickly. Simon’s own eyebrows furrowed—did you think he wouldn’t? “Of course I did, love.” He murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I will always come for you.” You try to hold in the quiet sob, but your shoulders begin to shake. Simon reaches up and gently wipes away a tear with his thumb while he squeezes your hand. “No tears now, hm? You’ve.. You’ve survived the impossible.” Simon says, forcing his voice to be steady. His eyes begin to burn with his own set of tears forming. “I came as soon as I heard, [name]. Don’t ever think I wouldn’t come for you.“

Your lower lip curls as you try to not cry from his sentiment; this is the man who took you in after losing everything, and it took him a long while to even let you know of his actual name, let alone see his face unmasked. This is the man who does not tell you the details of his job, but you know that he could be killed from it. This is the man who sits next to you near his windowsill when you both can’t sleep—the man who wakes up, just knowing something is up. He makes you a cup of your favorite morning drink whenever he can, he signs his sticky notes with a poorly drawn skull instead of his name, he makes piss poor dad and army type jokes, annoys you with his cockiness and bought you a damn mattress and bed-frame—even thought he never had to. He remembers the little things about you, your favorite shows and games—your favorite books, your favorite foods, hell, he remembers every little awful story about your workplace and your job. He’s always been like a wild animal—you come too close and he flees, but if you’re patient do what he needs, he’ll come to you.

Simon blinks away the tears and he clears his throat, his voice hesitant as he speaks. “You made me your emergency contact.” His tone isn’t questioning or warbling in any way—he says it like a statement, a fact, which it is. You laugh quietly which quickly turns into a grimace, causing Simon’s thumb to stop moving over your knuckles for a moment. Of course any movement or sound would hurt. “I.. I had to put one down, I just.. put the first person who came to mind.. Y’know?” You murmured nervously. Simon’s breath hitches for a moment and he only responds with a “mmh” for the time being, which definitely makes you way more nervous than you started out to feel. Your heart monitor spikes for a moment, causing Simon to speak up. “Hey—just relax, okay? M’not mad, love. Not mad at all,” He begins. He glances away from you for a moment before looking back with such a vulnerable look—like he’ll break at any moment. “It was just.. a surprise. That’s all.” But both of you know it was more than just a surprise. It was a small declaration of prioritizing each other—you setting him as the first person to be notified for an emergency, and his acceptance of this role. Simon never thought he would be sitting here, beside anyone else than his teammates in a hospital setting.

Simon isn’t sure when he fell in love with you. Whether it was the first moment he laid eyes on you or way later down the road—he doesn’t know. What he does know is that this.. feeling, isn’t as scary as it used to be. People getting close to him used to terrify him and it still does—but.. there’s something about you. Something about you that makes Simon feel safe. Makes him feel like he doesn’t have to sit in the corner to watch the entire room, you make him feel like he doesn’t have to sleep with a hunting knife stashed under his pillow. You make him feel like he doesn’t have to question your motives with anything you do, you make Simon feel like he can just sit down and relax without having to worry about, well.. anything else besides from the question of what you’ll have for dinner that night. He tries to hold in the shuddery breath and when he can’t, his eyes dart away to your arm. You open your lips to speak again, but you begin to cough. Simon grabs the paper cup of water that has a straw in it that he’s prepared for you everyday just in case you had woken up and he slots the straw between your lips, which you greedily accept and drink down the cold water. It soothes the ache in your throat from being on the ventilator and from not speaking for a couple of days. Once you’re satisfied, he places the cup back on the side table. “Hey, Si,” You croak, your fingers weakly squeezing his hand. Simon’s eyes immediately meet yours again, searching for any hint of pain. You lick your lips, a light smile coming to them. “Two blondes walk into a bar. You’d think one of ‘em would’ve seen it.” He stares at you for a moment, his eyebrows raising. “Did.. Did you just..” You laugh weakly and nod, looking at him. “I did.” You clear your throat again and squeeze his fingers. “Did it because you’re in your head.. Don’t hafta think so.. so much when you’re with me, Simon.”

Simon brushes his thumb over your knuckles once again and he can’t help but silently agree—he doesn’t have to think about anything right now, he can just sit here, with you—even if it’s in a place like this, with you in a condition like that. Simon looks at you and you look back at him, into his soul—and for the first time, he doesn’t want to look away.

taglist;; @alwaystired--neversleeping @handsomeunderwear-art @indefenseofkara @kaysav608 @1-is-loneliest-number @rosee-sensuelle @kitty-satan1 @k4marina @rahmown @royalty-purple @bowtruckleninja @cumikering @silent-neptune @purechaosss @hauntedpass @mxtokko @meimhem [crossed out = not able to tag sorry!]

[pascalswift]

BURNING DESIRE

STEPDAD!JOEL x F!READER

SUMMARY : after all Joel did marry your mother, but she was oblivious to the motive behind it. Not silly love, it’s was you. It was always you, His sweet little stepdaughter.

WARNINGS : age gap (reader is early 20’s Joel’s late 30’s), dark!joel, perv!joel, step-cest, oral (f receiving), boob play, pet names, fingering, overstimulation, daddy kink, manhandling, mutual pinning, established relationship, (This is Short, sorry my loves )

JOEL MILLER WASN’T A EVIL PERSON, NO. HE WAS JUST CALCULATED. A very smart man, seemingly very stoic but once you break past the multi layered concrete you’d find someone that you’d never want to leave. Maybe that’s what enthralled your mother to jump into marriage so quickly, she truly believed he was deeply in love with her and she was he. She believed that she just happened to meet a professor at your college whom was single and yearning for the domestic things in life, but she was so utterly wrong.

To Joel miller, well he had found an in. One that allowed him full access to you, free to stare, free to do whatever he imagined without having to worry about a college or a student noticing the way he seemed to linger on you. After all, it was no accident that day when he and your mom “crashed” into each other.

So here he was now, arms crossed over his chest, Dress shirt screaming at the push from his large arms. The older man staring sternly at you as you sat on your bed promptly ignoring him. “I told your mother we’d meet her there.” Joel persisted and you huffed rubbing the heel of your palm over your eyes.

Your mother wasn’t your favorite person, she was money hungry, and self absorbed. She tried to claim she loved you, even more attempting to smother you after your father desperates this life a few years ago but time after time her true colors would peer through the blinds. So sitting at a dinner with her and her husband wasn’t something you’d like, especially if your step fathers brother/business partner was gonna be there. Your mother seemed to love his company…

Joel wasn’t dull he knew his wife likes his brother. But he also knew his brother wasn’t like that.

“Why can’t I just stay here? Tommy’s gonna be there and he’s good company.” You shrugged and Joel’s jaw clenched as he dropped his arms. “But I want ya’ there sweetheart.” Your heart raced as he walked closer to you, doe eyes looking up at him as his rough hand gripped your jaw angling your face upwards. “You just want attention huh?” Joel cooed before he bent down pressing his lips against your plush ones.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You mumbled as Joel pulled away, his brows raising as he crouched in front of you. He tossed the sheet off your legs angling your legs to the side of the bed, Your knees level with his neck. He tilted his head placing his hands on your knees as you were only in a pair of white cotton shorts with a tiny pink flower in the front center right under your belly button, and a plain pink tank top. He eyed the way your nipples imprinted the fabric of your thin tank top.

“Y’know what I mean baby.” Joel stated, his voice a bit lower. “If ya didn’t you wouldn’t be reactin’ like you are.” His hand slid up grazing your clothes nipple and you sucked in a breath. “If I give you somethin’ you promise you’ll get dressed after?” He was smirking, because he knew how to make you comply. You demeanor had changed from refusing to go to nodding with vigor whilst looking at your step-father.

His large rough hands slid up your thighs leaving goosebumps in its wake as his hands reached your shorts. He stood up hands grasping your waist as you tossed you further up the bed, a light giggle escaping your lips that made him smile as he climbed between your legs. Your heart rate was through the rough as he pulled your shorts and panties down in one go tossing them somewhere around the room.

He watched as your chest heaved and he yanked your tank top down letting your breast spring free and he groaned as he ground his hips into the bed to relieve some pressure. He leaned up taking a nipple into his mouth and your head lulled back with a whimper that turned into a light moan when his teeth grazed it. He pulled away pinching your other nipple before he lowered himself between your legs. Groaning at the mess of slick in your folds.

“Baby’s already wet f’me.” You nodded as he kissed your inner thighs, so close to wear you want him. “Word’s.” Joel muttered biting your inner thigh before soothing it with his tongue. “Just f’you daddy.” It escaped your lips and Joel nearly moaned at the way you said it, his hips moved on the mattress getting some relief as he finally flattened his tongue and licked a thick harsh stripe up to your clit.

You hands pulled at his hair as you moaned. Joel had quickly lost himself between your legs, it was supposed to be a little treat but it quickly just became a frenzy. His tongue dipping into your tight hole as You writhed. His arms were locked under your thigh pushing your stomach down not giving you much room to move. “s’good- mmgh”

Joel sucked your bundle of nerves harshly before, letting his tongue trace it before his hang slipped lower and his thumb pressed on your clit pulling up lightly, watching as you held onto your breast absentmindedly pinching and pulling at your nipples, before he returning to sucking and you felt tears brim your eyes as your abdomen felt hot. “D-daddy.” You whined as his other hang slid up between your boobs and both of your hands grabbed onto his larger one.

“I know baby, your bein’ so good f’daddy.” He mumbled as he used the pad of his tongue to lick down towards your weeping hole. His free hand that you were holding coming down as he poked at it with his index finger. Your hips jerked and you whimpered. “Gotta get you ready for later princess, ya’ want that hm?” You nodded eagerly but moaned loudly when you felt his thick finger enter inside you. Joel himself moaning at how warm and tight your walls were, barley just accepting his one finger he could only image what his cock would feel like inside of you.

He was so tempted to just fuck you after this but he didn’t wanna raise any flags. His finger pumped in and out of you and he already felt the way you clenched down on his one finger, your cries only spurring him on. Without warning he pushed his middle finger inside of your hole that was pouring arousal. The stretch was a sweet burn but quickly became just sweet as Joel’s mouth went back on your clit and his fingers pumped deeply inside of you.

He curled his fingers upward and you let out a particularly loud moan as the coil tightened in your stomach and heat slowly started to build up. “P-please- mgh. Daddy I’m g-“ Joel only sped up watching as your face contorted into pleasure. Mouth open with harsh breaths and brows furrowed. He curled his fingers up and sucked on your bundle of nerves watching as your orgasm hit you.

As he fucked you through your orgasm you were sure you blacked out for a minute. The pleasure washed over your body making your head push further into your pillow as you babbled incoherently. When you finally came down from jumping multiple feet in the air you felt Joel’s mouth still on your clit, his fingers still inside of you and your thighs attempted to close. Only to be cut short by his strength. “Daddy s’to much- m-“ you were unable to form a coherent sentence as Joel kept going, seemingly In a trance.

Tears started to fall down your cheeks as you yanked on his hair attempting to push him back but not outwardly telling him to stop, the pleasure being to enjoyable. “Gimmie one more baby.” His voice was raspy as he lifted his head only for a second before returning back to his place between your thighs pulling his fingers from your slick full hole. His fingers covered in your arousal as he smeared it over your clit, hearing your whimper of emptiness.

His hand slid up your neck and his finger tapped your bottom lip letting you taste yourself while he used his tongue to make you cum again.

Before you reached dinner you had already came three times, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle later.

thanks for reading <333

if you wanna be tagged just lmk and message me with requests I’m happy to write mostly everything <33

[fatuismooches]

I want to see each harbinger with a touchy lover/lover whose love language is physical affection 😭😭

Imagine the Harbingers when your love language is physical affection.

Pierro is learning to adjust. He probably doesn’t have the time or energy for large displays of affection. He’s already very exhausted from his heavy workload and life itself so lots of touching would be a lot for him. But let’s not forget this man is touch-starved. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say you’re the only thing that brings him happiness in this corrupted world. After the fall of Khaenri’ah, he probably isolated himself from a lot of things in order to focus on furthering the Fatui. So since you are really the link that reminds him that even he has a fraction of humanity left, Pierro does crave your touch. Just differently than how you might show it. He would enjoy simple physical contact for an extended period of time if that makes sense. Like, not anything overbearing, but tiny. You can pull up a chair and nuzzle yourself into his arm and shoulder while he works. It won’t bother him. You can keep your hand on his thigh as you do your own thing. You can try to hold his hand hostage, but it won’t work for very long, though it’ll give him a tiny laugh. Though, once he’s finally out of the office and has free time (which is extremely rare) he won’t say no to lots of cuddles in bed. Truly the only way he can relax. You didn’t hear this from me but he enjoys a damn good massage. Just start rubbing his shoulders in the right places and he’ll be putty in your arms.

Dottore has grown to like it, enjoy it even, and you know what his favorite thing to do is? Initiate it himself first when he sees you approaching so he can catch you off guard and then tease you. Assuming you’ve been with him for centuries since the Akademiya, by now he would have become accustomed to your touch. Sometimes he doesn’t even react when you wrap your arms around his neck (he’s a busy man, you know? He can’t always pay attention to you despite how much you complain in his ear! Though the segments will happily fulfill that role for you.) Touching the scars on his face will always make him stiffen, Zandik will never get used to that even though they don’t hurt anymore. The best time to get touchy with him is when he’s sitting at his desk writing or whatever, since you can easily cuddle him on his lap. Though make sure you’re prepared for it, this is Il Dottore after all. As much as Dottore likes it when you try to challenge him with that intellectual mind of yours, he also loves it when you’re quiet. If you can make sure you stay still for the most part and quiet, his lap and chest are all yours. He might even forget you’re there since he gets so caught up in his work but don’t get surprised when he breaks his pens… and then accidentally touches your clothes with an ink-covered hand. And don’t blame him if you wake up with cramps and sores… it’s well worth it though!

Akademiya Zandik is the embodiment of “what the hell are you doing get away from me.” And literally, everyone knows this, he does have a notorious reputation after all. There was one time another student placed their hand on his shoulder and he physically recoiled and looked as if he just got burnt. Everyone makes sure not to bump into him in the hallways. Pretty much all of the physical contact he’s had was when he was beaten as a child, so he’s grown a hatred and discomfort for it. Zandik even despises brushing hands with the store clerks and merchants. He can’t fathom the fact that touch can be comforting and even healing. He can’t hope to understand the idea that hands are used to love, not only to hurt. So if your love language is physical affection, well… you’re going to have to hold off on your plans for a long time. I know it hurts, but be happy you managed to get into a relationship with this guy first. You persevered a lot, right? You’ll just have to persevere some more. It takes a long time for him to warm up to your touch, much less constant touchiness. And don’t push it. Be patient. The first time you two hold hands is monumental. In due time the two of you will be cuddling together after a long day of performing illegal experiments behind the Akademiya’s back. 

Columbina wholeheartedly enjoys it of course! She is an affectionate queen herself! Bina can easily sense you creeping up behind her to trap her in a hug, and she happily lets it happen. She will really just let you do what you want, and she loves how you two have the same love languages since it’s a win for everyone (minus the Harbingers, Pierro has to tell her to focus during the meetings and missions instead of clinging onto you.) It is funny to think that you two actually have schedules - first, you’re holding and pampering her, and then she holds and pampers you… yes, a very beneficial relationship, and no one is left out of the affection and love. If you want to hold hands for every activity, go ahead! Honestly, you two could glue your hands together and daily life wouldn’t be affected too much since that’s how it already is like… how cute. Though I hope you have good shoulder strength because Columbina will literally drop half her body over you for an extended period of time. Cuddles of course are heavenly, though more often than not, you two end up in a tangle of limbs and have fallen off the bed with the blankets, trying to separate. Oh and if you’re touching her wings? Make sure to be very gentle this time! (Otherwise, she may playfully bat you with them but accidentally put too much force into it and send you a good few feet away.)

Capitano is very confused at first but will go along with it happily. The tall and romantically awkward man doesn’t understand why you’re always insisting on holding or touching hands, but when you look so happy and smile so brightly, he could never refuse you. He doesn’t understand when you plop yourself on his lap out of nowhere, or when you cuddle into his chest, but he doesn’t dare move a muscle. He’s not even sure what a “love language” is in the first place until you mentioned it offhandedly once, and then the next day he’s reading a very detailed book about it in his private office. Capitano’s face is completely neutral but inside he’s secretly very touched and honored by your love language. Like, he knew you liked him, but this just solidifies how much you truly loved him. For some reason, he treats this as revolutionary news even though you two are married. Sometimes it doesn’t process that someone as lovely and amazing as you can love a monster like him. After acknowledging how much physical affection means to you he will open himself to you whenever he’s not busy. He will make sure you’re comfortable and cozy, because if you get cramps, or get too cold, or too hot, or whatever possible discomfort, he won’t forgive himself. Is he taking tips from the couple's advice book? Yes. Touch him all you want, he won’t be able to reciprocate very well other than a pat on the head and back or two but don’t worry, he’s learning.

Scaramouche will act like it’s the worst thing that’s ever been bestowed upon him… initially. Human touch is something that has a long, not-so-good history with him considering all his betrayals. Just the mere thought of it sickens him sometimes, he doesn’t think he could ever get used to it again. Though, the puppet has gone through many stages, many changes in his life, you being one of the major ones. A big change usually is accompanied by many small ripples in one’s life, and that is exactly what you do for him. If you’ve managed to make it to this point, a relationship with him, you two have probably touched a few times. But only a few. It is not something he’s accustomed to. So you will have to rein in your need to have your hands all over him and your desire for tons of smooches. Taking it slow with physical affection is key, but you will be rewarded. Scaramouche will slowly begin to tolerate your affection, behind closed doors, however. The only affection that happens in public is when he’s jealous and pulls you into his arms. Toleration turns to him internally begging for more, however, he will never voice that out loud. The Harbinger longs to feel you hold him from behind, as he mumbles curses and how you were so needy under his breath. He hopes that you’ll take matters into your own hands and kiss his cheeks so he doesn’t have to ask. He wishes for you to caress his chest, the place where his heart is vacant. In your arms, maybe it’s okay for Kunikuzushi to be the vulnerable and emotional puppet he wishes he wasn’t… But don’t get too cocky. He will still dodge your attempts at hugs and watch as you comedically trip over your own feet, and then walk away and softly smile at your whining and pouting behind his back.  

Wanderer already knows how this goes. After all, you have forgotten him, but he could never forget you. He has every part of you etched into his eternal memories, your touchy habits, your kisses, your hugs, how you always try to sneak some hand-holding in to see if he wouldn’t notice. And of course, some things never change. After you two have gotten together again, you still do the exact same affectionate touches as before, as if nothing has changed at all. But he has changed. He is no longer Scaramouche, or Kabukimono, or whatever names he had called himself before. Wanderer seldom complains or makes multiple comments about your affection, nor will he be begging for it frequently. Instead, he has a more neutral-positive take on your affection. When you need him and his touch, he will be there silently. And so he will let you drunkenly mumble into his shoulder and cling to him in the tavern, not caring if that Scribe and the other blonde boy are looking at him. He’ll let you give him a peck on the cheek as thanks for helping you shop even if the mercenary and village leader are chuckling at the sight. He’ll let you greet him with a great big hug even if Sumeru’s Archon smiles knowingly at the sight. Wanderer will let you indulge, for he thinks that you deserve at least that for everything he’s put you through.

Kabukimono is admittedly confused at first, but in no way declines your advances. Your touch makes him feel quite happy after all. But, is it normal for one to be so touchy with their partner? He has seen other couples display such affection, but you seem to provide it far more than the average person! Whether it’s just a mere brush of fingers stroking him or a hand on his thigh, you always seem to be touching him affectionately. The puppet wonders if there is any real meaning behind these lingering touches that he does not understand yet. Surely there must be, right? He knows that some humans have odd habits, as you would put it. But nope - it is simply “how you show love,” your words echoing throughout his mind. How you show love is through your soft and gentle touches, your rough tackling when you’re feeling devious, the playful pulling of his cheeks, and always finding an excuse to kiss him. And he can’t say that he dislikes it! Though, it leaves Kabukimono to wonder - how does he show love?

Sandrone has no clue what to do or make of the situation. Physical affection is something that she is really not familiar with, even if the relationship has been going on for a long time. And someone who is huge on it? Oh boy, you’re going to kill her. I bet once, her face probably got stained with grease or something since she works with machines a lot, and you moved to wipe it off and her face just turned completely blank and still. Just completely unmoving, her hands literally frozen in the position they were in as your fingers tenderly brushed against her cheek. You may or may not have broken Sandrone because for the first time in your life, you heard her stutter, and then she avoided you for the next few days. So, not good at all really, but then again not in a bad way. She won’t get mad at you exactly, but she will not respond or reciprocate because she genuinely doesn’t know how. It is a super strange feeling to her, liking someone else’s touch. Do try not to do it while she’s working, because she will get distracted and then mess up on her project, and then proceed to lose it and then go turn some poor souls into dolls to let off steam from how ill you make her feel. Will she ever get used to it or get better at reciprocating? Well, I’m sure you’ll be staying with her for a while, so you’ll find out down the line.

La Signora enjoys it to a normal extent. There are times when she will be possessive and demand that you shower her with complete and utter adoration which you happily agree to. Though there are times when she will have to decline your offer - she knows you are a needy lover, Signora teases, but she too has work to do. And how will she focus on her duties if you are constantly luring her attention to you instead of where it needs to be? Signora promises to give you what you want later. Though, you will be touching Rosalyne a lot more than you think. Why? Because you help her with her own routine. You will help her do or undo her hair, which means rubbing her scalp gently and combing her hair. (Be careful! She will get annoyed if you pull on it too hard.) You love doing her nails for her, because that means you get to hold her hand for a long time. Please, brush your fingers softly against her face as you adjust the black mask on her face. Please, trace along her collarbones as you put on the black neckpiece that runs down to her chest. Signora doesn’t particularly think much of your super affectionate nature, she just knows it’s a part of you and will even use it to her advantage. You give really good massages, she’s noticed.

Pantalone feels his smile grow every time you unabashedly touch him, because he too will be physically affectionate with no shame. I don’t think you’ll win against this man because he’s just that good. You’re kissing him? Well, now he’s got you trapped in his arms littering kisses all over your body. You’re hugging or holding his hand? Well, now you’re being held hostage by him because he’s not letting go for anything. Every single time you’re touchy with him he will turn it around on you and be the one caressing you instead. All with a damned teasing smile as if this doesn’t fluster him the tiniest bit. Pantalone is the kind of guy to have his hand on your thigh under the table at every chance he gets. He will have an arm linked around yours at every social gathering or party there is. He will have you on his lap while doing anything possible - in his office doing paperwork, reading a book, even merely having a regular conversation. I don’t know, he’ll tell you about Snezhnaya’s economy if you want. You get my point. So, in conclusion, he is really one of the best to have your hands all over, so long as you’re prepared to receive what you give.

Arlecchino doesn’t really know what to do… she didn’t even know it was possible for someone to be so touchy-feely. You cling to her more than the children do! She’s rather indifferent to it, she won’t reject it, but she won’t exactly encourage it either. She is a woman who likes her personal space, after all. Though at times she does enjoy your kisses and hugs, sometimes she just needs to be by herself, and your constant affection can be distracting… Though, Arlie does like it in moderate amounts. For example, coming home after long days to be pampered and kissed all over by you. As much as she looks unsettlingly composed and unaffected, even she feels the weight of her responsibilities sometimes. When you two finally have the time to cuddle she won’t be irritated at how you won’t let go, and will stroke your hair as you’re buried in her chest. All Arlecchino asks is that you don’t do it in public, because even the orphans are beginning to whisper about how “Father is oh so lovey-dovey and mushy-gushy with [Name]” and she really can’t deal with that right now. 

Childe is a cuddle bear himself, so expect to be evenly matched and also appreciated for your love language. Although Childe doesn’t really show it or acknowledge it himself, he is probably a bit touch-starved. That’s what falling into the Abyss and joining the Fatui as a kid does to you. So if you want to try and squeeze him to death affectionately, go ahead! He will be accepting the challenge and doing the same to you. If you have the need to always be holding his hand or gripping a piece of his clothing, he will let you. Even if you’re in the streets of Liyue, onlookers passing by, or in the privacy of your own home while he’s cooking (he will literally cook with one hand, don’t test him.) If you have the sudden urge to kiss him silly out of nowhere, by all means, he welcomes it. And he will reciprocate it ten times harder. He finds it rather adorable, to be honest. I’m sorry but he definitely tickles you as revenge if you glomp him too hard or something. It’s all in good fun though! Ajax is not one to waste your affectionate habits, whatever little time he has with you will be spent wholeheartedly loving you to the fullest.

[allywthsr]

I‘LL NEVER LEAVE YOU | (l.norris)

part two to Finding Lando on Raya

summary: part two to Finding Lando Norris on Raya, how you spend the evening, flying to Spa for tire testing and a date in the evening

wordcount: 9.8k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT! (p in v, oral, taking pictures while doing it)

notes: sorry for the delay, but I was kinda blocked! The end feels rushed, but I genuinely didn’t know what to write, sorry. Anyway, second smut so be gentle. And thank you for all the positive feedback!!!!❤️‍🩹

”You want to order some McDonald’s and stay over?“

You looked at Lando, how could he be so perfect? Only minutes ago he was buried deep inside of you and now he was a sweet angel.

”Sure!“

He grabbed his phone from his night table and opened Uber Eats.

”What do you wanna eat?“

You named him your go-to McDonald’s order and he chose a chickenburger menu.

”It should come in like twenty minutes. Enough time to repeat what we just did.“

”Let’s eat first, you tired me out, two orgasms are more than men normally become out of a woman.“

”I‘m just a pro, what can I say.“

You shoved his shoulder playfully and he laid down next to you. He opened his arm and you laid your head on his naked shoulder, pulling up the duvet to cover you both. He slowly caressed your shoulder with his fingers.

”So where are you from, Y/N?“

”I was born in Y/H/N and moved to London two years ago for this job. I meet new customers that want to buy some products from us.“

”Do you travel a lot?“

”Not really. Every now and then, yes. But mostly I meet them in London in our office. But tell me, what’s it like being a Formula One driver? Is it as luxury as it always looks like?“

”Sometimes, I mean we get to stay in fancy hotels and whatnot, but it’s hard work as well. The G-forces your whole body has to resist are heavy, so we need to train a lot, I hate it so much, you have no idea. The traveling is also tiring. I hate being away from my family and friends so much, but at the same time, I have more free time than you probably have. But that free time is mostly filled with training, it’s rare I have two weeks off in a row.“

”I get that, but it’s still your hobby, no? I can imagine that having your hobby as a job is the best thing.“

”That’s true, but I don’t know, I‘m super happy and grateful to be where I am but at the same time, sometimes I‘d like to have more privacy. It’s always dangerous for me to hit up women because they could always post it on social media and I‘m the asshole you know. Or when I’m in Monaco, I can’t go out with a woman, she‘s immediately my girlfriend. My cousin once visited me and she got death threats afterwards. That’s not nice. But it comes with being a ’celebrity‘ I guess.“

When he said celebrity he did quotation marks in the air.

”So you meet up with a lot of women?“, you asked him jokingly.

”I poured my heart out and that’s the only thing that stuck in your pretty head?“, he let out a laugh.

”But don’t worry, I never had such a pretty and nice girl before, you‘re truly special. Not one of them wanted to eat McDonald’s with me, claiming they‘re gonna be fat afterwards.“

”Don’t worry, I was just kidding. I can’t say I know what you’re feeling, because I don’t. I can wander through London and no one asks me for a picture, but I imagine it to be hard. Having no privacy I mean. But if you ever want to talk, you know who to call. And whoever turns down a free McDonald’s meal is just stupid. Especially if you have such a hot man next to you.“

You put your hand on his chin, caressing it, where a slight stubble grew.

”I actually don’t know who to call, I don’t even have your number yet. I’ve been inside of you and don’t even know what your profile picture looks like.“

You smiled up at him and chuckled.

”We can change that later, I‘m too comfortable right now“, you pressed a kiss on his neck.

”You said something about Pirelli tire testing earlier?“

”Yeah, tomorrow in Spa. I drive around the circuit in different cars and my F1 car, testing possible new tires.“

”Oh really? That’s fun.“

”You should come.“

”Isn’t that something only people from the team can attend?“

”You can sit in my garage, that’s fine.“

”Lando we barely know each other.“

”And? I like you, I think that you like me. Come as a friend, I won’t say you’re my fuck friend.“

You chuckled at that. But should you? What if people see you somewhere because someone posts it and you get the same treatment his cousin got?

”Won’t there be paparazzi?“

”No, at least not that I know of. It’s only an event for included people, it’s not even publicly announced.“

”But still, won’t it be weird?“

”Let’s get to know each other then, I won’t be weird.“

”Are you sure? I‘m just the girl you fucked because you needed it.“

”Y/N, you’re a human, not an object I am using. If you wouldn’t have stuck out to me, I wouldn’t have liked you. I would’ve never texted you.“

You stayed silent, didn’t know what to answer. Only your hand went to his neck and fondled it, wanting to show your affection somehow.

”What’s your favorite color?“

”Really?“, you chuckled.

”Answer it, then we won’t be strangers anymore and you can come tomorrow.“

”I like a light blue, but it changes. You?“

”I like a neon yellow, like the color on my helmet. Favorite ice cream flavor?“

You told him your favorite ice cream flavor and you asked him the same question.

”Vanilla Ice cream, classic.“

”Favorite Holiday?“

”I love Christmas, I get to spend most time with my family, and also presents. Yours?“

”Must be Christmas as well. I love it when everything is gloomy and stuff.“

”You‘ve ever been on a yacht?“

”No, I’d love to, but I‘m not rich.“

”Want to come with me on holiday?“

”Lando.. it’s the same with tomorrow. I can’t just go on your family holiday with you.“

”Why not?“

”Because I‘m not your girlfriend or something.“

”Want to be my girlfriend?“

You scoffed and sat up, ”You need to calm down.“

”I was just kidding. I‘m leaving in a week, but we still have enough time to get to know each other. Consider it. You‘re different, I can feel it.“

”Let me think about it.“

”Take all the time you need, but I before our flight takes off I need to know.“

”I need to buy a plane ticket then.“

”No, we‘re flying with a private jet, we still have a few seats left.“

”Boujee, I see.“

”I am collaborating with a brand, so I don’t have to pay anything.“

”That’s even more Boujee!“, you laughed.

”Well, we could join the mile hig-”

Before Lando could finish the sentence, it knocked on the door. He jumped out of bed and pulled his Boxershorts, which lay somewhere on the floor up to his hips. When he opened the door, a hotel employee stood in front of it, holding a brown bag.

”Sir, you ordered from McDonalds, is that correct?“

”Yes it is.“

”Then here you go, bon appetit!“

”Cheers!“

Lando closed the door and walked back to the bed, where he sat down and opened the back, giving you your food while he laid his‘ down in front of him.

You took the first bite and moaned: ”I needed this.“

Lando looked at you with a crooked eyebrow.

”What?“, you laughed, ”never saw a woman enjoying her food?“

”I‘ve never seen such a gorgeous naked woman in my bed enjoying her food, no.“

”You‘re a flirt, you know that?“

He only smirked at you and took another bite of his chickenburger, while eating a fries right after.“

”Are you more of a McDonald’s or Nando’s type of girl?“

”I enjoy McDonald’s more, to be honest, I feel like it has a bigger variety of things I eat.“

”Same, if I had to choose my last meal, it would probably be McDonald’s.“

He took a sip of his Sprite and thought about more things to ask you. He wanted to get to know you, it felt like you knew each other for years already, yet it only has been a few hours. He felt super close to you, as if you‘ve been best friends, he wanted you to meet everyone, his family, his friends, and even Zak.

”What’s you’re favorite free time activity?“

”I like hanging with friends or family, I love to play golf and I like gaming. A mixture of all of them. I could never choose my favorite, I also like to photograph, but I barely do it anymore. What’s with you?“

”Well, I like reading, watching sports, or just chill at home. Shopping is great too, I always wanted to watch someone golf professionally.“

”Well, I‘m not a professional baby.“

”But probably more than I am.“

”Alright, when you come with me on holiday, we‘ll play a round of golf.“

”Lando..“

”Come on, it’s gonna be fun! Everyone will love you and you‘ll love them.“

”Let me think about it, okay?“

”I can give you a week, we’re flying from Heathrow, so just text me and join us.“

You took the last bite and thought about it, should you go on vacation with him? What would you tell your family? ’Hey mum, I’m going on a holiday with a stranger I met on a dating app, we fucked and he invited me, I’ll come back in a week!‘ Not so much fun.

”What should I tell my family and friends? I can’t just leave with a stranger on a holiday.“

”Why not? It’s not like we‘re strangers. I’ve been in you thirty minutes ago.“

You scoffed, he was right, but you still didn’t know him at all.

”I still don’t know you.“

”Hi, I‘m Lando Norris, born in Bristol, twenty three years old. I have two smaller sisters and one bigger brother, my parents are together, and together with my sisters they still live in Bristol. My mum is from Belgium, which makes me half Belgian but I can barely speak it. I went to school and went karting, had to re-take my theory driving test, and moved to the higher formula classes on my own accord, not because my dad was rich. I currently live in Monaco because I wanted to do something new. That’s basically everything about me. I live and breathe motor sport, that’s all I have in my life. And now it’s your turn.“

So you did the same, repeating everything he just said, talking about your family, about your passions, your job, and yourself.

”You see? Now we know each other and you can join me for the holiday.“

”Take me out on a date and then maybe.“

”Alright, it’s a deal. Tomorrow after tire testing.“

”Okay.“

You smiled shyly at him, you couldn’t believe you actually said yes to tire testing, but in the end, you only live once and who would turn down a free paddock experience with Lando Norris? Even if it’s tire testing.

”So you‘ll come with me to tire testing tomorrow?“

He got really excited and sat up in the bed.

”Yes Lando, I‘ll come with you.“

”You’re the best!“

With that, he laid himself on top of you and kissed you on the lips, which you returned with a moan. You moved your foot to give him more space and heard a crinkling sound.

”Lando wait, the bag is still on the bed.“

You tried to say in between kisses but he only hummed, clearly already in a headspace where he didn’t care. He distracted you with neck kisses and the bag was long forgotten. He wandered lower with his kisses and stopped at your boobs, sucking your right nipple slightly and licking over the left one when he decided the right one has gotten enough love. With each touch, you gasped, grabbed his hair, and pulled at the strands. You could feel him hardening against your lower stomach and you clasped his shoulders, trying to get closer to him.

”Lando, I need more“, you pressed out.

”More already? God, you’re such a needy little baby.“

He grinned and his hand slipped towards your slit, slowly pushing his pointer finger through your lips. He felt your wetness and moaned at the sensation, he couldn’t believe how wet you were already, he barely touched you.

He pressed his thumb to your clit and slowly circled it, you let out different sounds that made Lando shake, in a good way. He couldn’t wait to be in you again. He inserted two fingers and pumped them slowly in and out, getting faster with every thrust.

”You‘re so wet baby, it’s crazy.“

”All for you Lando, it’s all for you.“

He moaned, kissed your neck, and slightly sucked it, leaving a faint purplish mark. He licked over it to claim his territory once more, tonight you belonged to him and only him, maybe for the next weeks as well. He already loved your company, he didn’t need to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. With you, he could just be Lando even if you just met.

His pumps and circles became faster the louder your moans got, the pleasure you felt was almost unbearable, you wanted to cum but you needed a little more.

”I need more, a bit more“, you pressed out and with that, he added a finger, now you were filled with three fingers and that was what you needed, after a few pumps you came around his fingers with a loud moan, clenching.

”Fuck Lando, you‘re so good at this.“

He smirked and pulled his fingers out of your pussy, looking at them, he pulled them apart and your juices created little strings that connected between his fingers. His eyes focused on your face watching you, as he put his fingers into his mouth, sucking the juices off. With your pussy still sensitive, you felt the next wave of arousal rushing towards your lower area, that was the sexiest thing he did and the way he moaned when he tasted you again, made you go wild.

”I need to be in you again, you have no idea how gorgeous you are.“

”I need you too Lando, I need your dick.“

He laid on his back and removed his underwear he was still wearing from getting the McDonald’s bag earlier, and his dick sprung towards the ceiling. You almost started drooling at the sight. He was perfect, not too long but also not too short, thick enough, and little veins covered his length, making him feel amazing inside of you. With a grunt he positioned himself on top of you, pumping his dick with his hand a few times, getting ready for you. He coated his tip with your juices, by moving his length through your slit and slowly pushed it inside of you.

”You feel fucking amazing, I hope you know that.“

You moaned and pushed his head to yours, pressing your lips on his‘ and sliding your tongue against his lips. He opened them and you fought for dominance, he won but only because you needed to catch a breath, he stole your breath, that’s it.

He deeply looked into your eyes, feeling more connected with him than ever.

With slow movements he began to move, the room getting filled with the dirtiest slapping sounds you could imagine, his thrusts making you feel on cloud nine again, you were so happy you met him, this was way better than sightseeing in Amsterdam. His hand found its way to your clit, rubbing slight circles to get you to your orgasm faster, which worked. You were stimulated by your many orgasms today, you didn’t need much to cum. Just after a few minutes of him thrusting into you and circulating your clit, you came with a loud cry, no one could make you finish like he did. He pulled out of you, and with a pout, you looked at him, how dare he do that, you now felt empty and missed him already.

”I want to cum in your mouth angel.“

With big eyes, you nodded and he got up and sat at the edge of the bed, you followed him suit and sat on your knees in between his legs. His length hit his stomach and you grabbed his dick with both of your hands, you loved how heavy he laid in your hands. With slow movements you started to satisfy him, pumping up and down while you looked through innocent eyes at him. That made him go even more wild in the head and his eyes rolled back, his hands found their way into your hair and he pulled slightly on your strands. You jerked him off and his tip started to leak pre cum, the slight white drops oozed out of his slit and your mouth watered. You opened your mouth and took him in your mouth, you could still taste yourself on his dick and moaned at the taste, the vibrations made him moan. Your tongue licked off the pre cum, the salty flavor wasn’t your favorite, but now you tried to get every drop. Lando guided your head a bit with the up and down movements, you couldn’t fit his whole length in your mouth but you tried with every stroke to fit more. You almost had it, but when you wanted to take the last bit, his soft tip reached your throat and triggered the gag reflex, you tried to ignore it, but you couldn’t.

With that, you pulled back to give yourself a second to breathe.

”Fuck, look at you. Eyes watery, makeup smudged, spit leaking out of your mouth, you look so fucking sexy.“

You grinned and darted your tongue out, licking a long stripe from bottom to top from his dick and with a swift move, you had him in your mouth again, but now only what fitted in without gagging again, jerking the rest of his dick with your hand.

”Such a good girl, fuck baby.“

His moans got louder and you could feel his member starting to twitch, you removed him out of your mouth and just jerked him on your tongue, and before he could warn you, his cum shot into your mouth, painting your tongue white. You looked up at him and he looked like a Greek god, his muscles prominent, head in his neck, and his eyes rolled back. You stroked him until he came back down and looked at you with a big smile, now you swallowed his cum while letting him watch you.

”You are something else darling, fuck. You look so pretty like this. Fucked out. Come here, I need to feel you close.“

With that he shuffled back and leaned with his back against the headboard of the bed, patting his legs, symbolizing you to sit down in his lap. And you did just that, you swung your leg over his leg and sat down, feeling his now soft dick against your pussy. This time there were no sexy feelings involved, you just went in for a hug, also needing the cuddle session you two had going on.

”Do you want to go and pee real quick? Then we can continue our cuddles, I just don’t want you to get sick.“

With a smile, you nodded and he helped you getting up from the bed, with an extra sway to your hips you went to the en-suite and did your thing, coming cleaned up back to see him looking comfy under the covers. You went to the living room where you first sat on the couch today and saw both of your phones laying on the table, you took them both in your hands and returned to Lando. He opened the blanket he was laying under and you slipped in, immediately you were pulled towards Lando, settling into his body nicely.

”You are really comfy, you know that?“, you said to him, he was the perfect mixture of trained but cuddly.

”You know that you are fucking gorgeous?“

You chuckled and gave him his phone you had in your hand.

”So we can exchange numbers.“

With that you opened yours and clicked onto the contact app, creating a new contact with the name ’Lan <3‘ and giving him your phone, at the same time he gave you his phone to save your number. When you saw the contact name you let out a quiet laugh, he saved you as ’Chicken nugget❤️‘.

”Chicken Nugget? Really?“, you laughed.

”Yes, the way you ate the chicken nugget earlier was super sexy. And also you are a chicken nugget. Small, the outside crunchy and perfect, the inside soft, and the taste perfect in general.“

You shook your head while laughing.

”The inside soft?“

”I could only feel you with my dick but you felt really soft.“

With that, he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked at you. You slapped his chest lightly and smiled, he‘s such a goofball, you were glad you met up with him.

You exchanged phones again after putting in your numbers and put them on the bedside table, wanting to feel close and you didn’t need your phone for that.

”So Y/N, tell me, do you meet up with random guys often?“

”Not really, I went on a couple of dates with guys, but nothing more, one or two led to a one night stand but I left as soon as we were done, no need to stay. They all didn’t treat me right, too much in their own head, only talking about themselves. What about you? Do you hit up girls often?“

”Sometimes, but the most girls only come to get a picture with me or to kiss me, you know, to brag about it on the internet or something. I rarely go on a date with a girl that is not interested in Lando Norris but in Lando. I‘m glad I found you, it feels like we have a different connection.“

”I feel the same, you know. It feels like we‘ve known each other for years already. And by the way, I‘m interested in you. Not Lando Norris the racing driver but the boy Lando, that lives in Monaco and loves spending time with his friend.“

He just smiled at you and kissed your forehead.

”I‘m happy you agreed to meeting me, I just wanted a quick fuck but I’m not gonna let you go now. I want to take you on actual dates and get to know you. I will schedule something for tomorrow night, yeah? After tire testing.“

”I‘d love that Lan.“

With that, he kissed your nose and you closed your eyes, kissing his chest.

”What do you want? Italien or something else?“

”Italien sounds good. Thank you.“

”I‘m gonna make a quick call.“

With that he got up, grabbed his phone, and went to another room to call a restaurant or something, you didn’t know. But with that short time, you grabbed your own phone and looked at the notifications, some from Instagram and other socials, and messages from friends and family. Your best friend's messages stuck out to you.

He returned, still naked and with his phone in his hand.

”We have a reservation at 7:00 pm tomorrow, wear something nice.“

”We have to get my stuff tomorrow before we go. When do we even leave and how? Spa isn’t exactly around the corner.“

”The helicopter takes off tomorrow at 11:00 am. That’s the easiest and fastest way. We can go to your hotel before we leave for the airport and gather your stuff, don’t worry.“

”And it’s really okay I‘m coming with you?“

”Yes baby, don’t worry. I invited you. What do they wanna do? Kick you out? Then I‘m out as well.“

”Okay“, you sweetly smiled at him and opened your arms. ”But now come cuddle again.“

He did just that, falling into your arms, and now he was the one settling on your chest, hugging you and you closed your arms behind his back as well. His arm reached for the nightstand, where he placed his phone and grabbed the remote control for the room. He pressed the button to close the curtain and then he turned on the lights, dimming them to create a nice atmosphere. Lando put the remote back on the table and caressed your side, which tickled slightly.

”What’s your favorite position?“

”Lando!“

”What? I need to know, this won’t be the last time I was in you“, he let out a laugh.

You giggled.

”Well, I like good old missionary. It’s underrated I think. Everybody is always saying that it’s boring, but is it too much to ask for that I want to look my partner in the eye or kiss him? But I also like speed bump, something where you are close to the other. If it’s just a one night stand I wouldn’t mind doggy. What about you?“

”I can only agree with you, I like missionary as well, I want to feel close to my girl or else I don’t need to have sex with her. As you said, a one night stand is a different story. But I also think that I‘m open to new things. I’d rather try out new stuff with my girlfriend rather than a stranger.“

”So I‘m not a one night stand to you? We fucked twice and it was only missionary. Technically I‘m a stranger to you.“

”But it doesn’t feel that way you know? As soon as you stepped through that door it was like meeting an old friend, I felt comfortable. And during sex, I just wanted to be close to you, hold and kiss you“, with that he left a kiss on your chest.

”You’re pretty sweet you know that?“

”How can I not when you’re around?“

You just smiled and combed your hands through his hair, enjoying the silence. After a while of just listening to each other's breaths you wondered what time it was, so you grabbed your phone and it was already 10:42 pm.

”Would you mind if I would get ready for bed? I‘m kinda knackered.“

”Go for it, I‘ll join you, I have to brush my teeth as well.“

With that, you both got up and you pulled your stuff out of your bag, putting the charger next to the bed and you took your toothbrush and your makeup remover with you to the bathroom, where you saw a through his phone scrolling Lando. When you walked in, he locked his phone and looked at you, smiling.

”I just asked Zak if it would be okay for you to come and he agreed, so you won’t be a bother tomorrow.“

”That’s nice, I‘ll thank him tomorrow.“

You both stood in front of the sink and you brushed your teeth together.

”It feels like we’re a married couple, brushing our teeth together“, Lando mumbled due to the foam that formed in his mouth.

You just nodded and noticed how true that was, it felt like a routine how you brushed your teeth together. When he spit the foam out and washed his mouth and face, he left with a kiss on the back of your head and the words: ”I‘ll wait for you on the bed.“

You took your makeup remover and removed everything you had applied to your face earlier, you indeed looked fucked out, smudged eyeliner and mascara, concealer that wore off due to you crying when you choked on his dick. You were a mess. So when your face was Makeup free and cleaned up, you returned to Lando in the bedroom, still naked by the way.

”Can I lend a T-shirt? I forgot to pack an extra.“

”Sure, you can grab the one I wore today, I swear I didn’t sweat in it.“

With a smile you looked for it and found it on the floor, you took it in your hands and pulled it over your head, secretly inhaling his scent that lingered on his T-shirt.

”You look cute in my stuff.“

You blushed and laid down next to him, plugging the charger in your phone.

”When is your alarm ringing?“, you asked, needing enough time to gather everything from your hotel room before taking off to spa.

”I think like 8:30 am? It’s pretty early but like that, you have enough time for packing your stuff in your hotel. I think it’s easier if I pack everything here and then we go together to yours. That way we won’t have to drive multiple times to our hotels.“

You nodded and cuddled into his side. He let his fingers slip through your hair, caressing it.

”Can I braid your hair?“

”What?“, you sat up.

”I want to braid your hair, I always saw my sister do it but I never was allowed to try it on their hair, they always said I would tangle it.“

”Do you even know how to braid hair?“

”Kind of? My ex girlfriend always asked me to do it but I never wanted to, but your hair is so gorgeous.“

You blushed at the compliment, he didn’t want to braid his model ex girlfriends hair but yours? Your hair hasn’t been braided in ages, it would be nice to feel that feeling again.

”Sure, it would be fun. I need to get my hairbrush first, they’re kinda tangled.“

You got up and went to your bag, where you kept a small hairbrush for emergencies. You quickly but carefully brushed your hair and sat on the bed, where Lando already waited for you.

”Three strands, and then just put one over the other, right?“

”Yeah, like that. Do you know in which order to put the strands over the other?“

”I think so, I‘ll just try it out.“

With that he combed through your hair with his fingers and created three strands, gently putting the right one over the middle one, repeating it with the left one.

”Can you pull it a bit tighter? That way it won’t be that loose.“

Before you could end your sentence he already pulled it a bit harder, now it looked better, he thought. He kept on braiding your hair until he came to the end.

”Do you have a hair tie?“

You grabbed one that hung around your wrist and gave it to him, feeling how he tightened it around your hair.

This moment felt so intimate, you found it hard to believe, you just met today. This was soulmate behavior, you got along perfectly.

”I think it’s decent.“

With that, you turned around a saw a smiling Lando.

”Wait let me take a picture of you.“

You blushed and mumbled an ’okay‘. He got his fancy photography camera out and instructed you to lie down.

”Lay down on your front, that way your face won’t be visible, just your hair and I can put it up on my jpg side.“

”You want me to be on there?“

”Sure, you’re a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful personality.“

”You’re a simp.“

”That’s not what you called me earlier tho.“

A grin slid across your face, when you thought about that moment. He wasn’t a simp when he was buried deep inside of you, that’s true. But the thought of you being on his jpg side gave you butterflies in your stomach, that meant you were a little special to him, you‘ve never seen a girl on there.

So you did just what he asked you to, laying down on your stomach, he made sure you could see your braid and you heard the camera click, indicating he took a picture. He took a few more pictures and then tapped your shoulder to tell you he was finished.

”Let me see!“

With that, he clicked on a button and the pictures he took appeared, it didn’t even look stupid, like a good Pinterest inspo even.

”You’re actually good at it. The braid looks good too!“

”Thank you love, but how can it be ugly when the muse is perfect?“

You pushed his chest and he fell down on the bed, the camera still in his hand. So before you could react he took a picture of you sitting on the bed on your knees and you let out a scream.

”What are you doing? I don’t look good, I‘m not even wearing makeup.“

”You don’t need makeup, you’re gorgeous without it, and I want to have a beautiful picture of you, is that too much to ask for? Pose for me baby.“

You let out a laugh and you heard the camera click. Next, you squeezed your cheeks with your hands, creating a little pout. Now he got up and put his left hand on your right cheek, cupping it gently, camera now full in your face, click. His thumb on your lips, click. You opened your mouth and sucked on his thumb, click. He put the camera away and removed his thumb from your mouth, pressing his lips on yours, his tongue entered your mouth and you fought for dominance.

”Baby you taste so good“, he whispered in between kisses.

A whimper left your mouth and you kissed him ever more, the more kisses that passed the filthier they got, creating loud smacking noises every time they met.

”I need you“, you moaned.

”You have me.“

You looked into his eyes and they got darker, now a lusty dark green. The excitement was very present in your pussy, due to you not wearing panties, you could feel your wetness forming and slowly dripping down.

”I want you out of my T-shirt and then I want to take a picture. Is that alright with you?“

You moaned at the thought of him taking pictures of you doing the deed. So the only thing you could do was nod your head.

”Words, baby, I need words.“

”Yes, Lando.“

”Good girl.“

With that, he pulled your T-shirt up and tossed it over his shoulder somewhere in the bedroom. He cupped your breast and kissed you. Taking the camera in his hand, while still cupping your boob, you heard the camera doing a click sound. Fuck this is so filthy.

”Look into the camera.“

You did what he asked you to, hearing a moan from him when you did.

”Fuck baby, you’re so hot and sexy, I hope you know it.“

He squeezed your nipple and let go of his camera, fumbling with his underwear, struggling to get it off. When he finally did, his cock sprung towards the ceiling, obviously being turned on by the filthy things you were doing. You laid on your back and spread your legs, he now got a good vision of your glistening pussy. Taking the camera back into his hand, he took a picture of you laying like that, and another of his thumb brushing through your pussy lips, collecting the juices you created again.

The room was filled with click sounds from the camera and your moans or heavy breathing. The sexual tension was almost unbearable in the room.

He now took his cock in his hand and smeared your wetness, that lingered on his thumb, on the tip of his cock, prepping it. Sliding into you, was one of his favorite things already. You could hear the camera click, taking pictures of his dick shoved inside of you, you couldn’t wait to see the pictures. He threw the camera to the side and now concentrated fully on you, moving in and out of you. With each thrust, you both came closer to your orgasm and when he circled your clit with his fingers, you were done for. Quickly he grabbed his camera and could take a picture of your face when you reached your climax. Eyes rolling back, mouth slightly open, and quiet little moans escaped your lips. Shortly after he pulled out and finished on your stomach, he rolled off of you and calmed down next to you. You wanted to clean his cum off of your tummy, when he let out a loud: ”No! I want to take a picture, give me a minute.“

You laughed and waited for him to recover, he snapped the picture and you got up and went into the bathroom, cleaning the mess up with toilet paper. Returning, you pulled the T-shirt from Lando over your head again and laid down, you were tired out from all the sport you did today. Lando also looked like he was tired out, ready to sleep.

”But now, let’s actually go and sleep, it’s late and we have to get up early tomorrow.“

You nodded and turned to lay on your side, facing Lando. He did the same, after turning off the light with the remote that laid on his bedside table and you both looked the other in the eye. Eventually, Lando pulled you close and you cuddled, until you both fell asleep in the other's arms.

—————————————————————————

The next morning you woke up lying on your back, with Lando lying on his side, facing you. The brown haired boy was still fast asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful. You took a deep breath, smelling Lando everywhere, it was like taking a bath in his smell, a bath that you never wanted to get out of. Turning around, you looked for your phone, tapping the screen gently it showed 7:49 am, great, you had another fifty minutes of sleep and you weren’t even tired. With that you turned around again, showing your back to Lando and shuffling close to him. When your back met his chest, he laid his arm around you, even in his sleep he wanted to be as close as possible.

You did fall asleep eventually, Lando’s scent lulling you back to sleep. But a loud beeping sound woke you up again, after what felt like two minutes of sleep. You groaned and pressed your back more into Lando, who let out the same sound as you did. He turned his body to snooze his alarm and cuddled back into you. With you being pressed tightly against him, you could feel something hard pressing in your lower back, you didn’t need long to figure out what it was. You wanted to tease him a little and wiggled around, acting like you tried to get comfortable.

”If you don’t stop, we‘ll not make it today“, he growled. Letting out a chuckle you stopped and turned to face him. When you looked into his eyes you let out a: ”Good morning.“

”Morning baby. How did you sleep?“

”Very good, thank you.“

”We sadly don’t have all day in bed, we need to get up in like thirty minutes, I need to pack everything, we go to your hotel, pack everything, and then we leave for the airport at 10:30 am, where we take off at 11:00 am.“

”Okay.“

You put your hand on his cheek and stroked it.

”You are very handsome, you know that?“

”Not as gorgeous as you are, tho.“

You smiled and pecked his lips, letting your thumb glide over his eyebrow. You both were startled by the loud ringing of his alarm, he ended it and clicked on a button on his remote control to open the blinds and let more light in. He laid down on his back and opened his arm to come closer to him. And you did just that, cuddling to his side and stroking his bare upper body, slowly but surely your hand wandered lower to where his dick was.

”Baby I swear, if you don’t stop, we‘ll never leave.“

”I can give you a handie or a blowie, I won’t need thirty minutes for that.“

”But it’s only a morning boner, he‘ll go away soon. And I don’t want our relationship to be built on lust you know? I genuinely like you, and not only because you are fricking hot and you give good blowjobs.“

”I really like you too, you know. And I don’t want it either, but a boner is a boner and it would be a shame to waste it.“

You looked up at him and blinked in a flirty way. When he didn’t protest, you positioned yourself on top of him and freed his dick, which sprung towards you when he did. Saliva formed in your mouth at the sight, you didn’t waste any time and got to work, spitting on your hand, wetting it to gently jerk him off. When you touched him he let out a moan, you were some kind of magician, he was sure, a handjob never felt better. After you got him fully hard with your hand, you put your mouth on him, swirling your tongue around the head and helping with your hand on the rest that didn’t fit in your mouth. The louder his moans got, the closer he was to a release, you wanted him to cum, so when you cupped his balls and slightly tickled them he came with a loud moan, painting the insides of your mouth white. You swallowed like the pro you are and came back up to him, laying down on top of him. His arms closed behind your back and he kissed your nose.

”You’re incredible, you know that? Not only a gorgeous soul but also incredibly good at giving blowjobs.“

You both laughed and he gave you another kiss on the forehead.

”We need to get up, or else we will be late. Breakfast is at the circuit, is that okay or do you want to order something from the hotel restaurant?“

”I‘m good, don’t worry.“

With that, you got up and Lando followed you into the bathroom where you brushed your teeth, hair, washed your face, and got dressed in the sweats and T-shirt you had on yesterday. You didn’t bring any makeup with you, so you had to go barefaced for now, but that wasn’t a problem. You packed your stuff in your bag, which you brought and sat back on the bed after asking Lando at least five times if you could help him pack, which was five times denied, Lando scattered his stuff in his suitcase. In between you went, folded the clothes, and packed them back neatly, as well as sorted out everything else so they would fit and it would have a system. After twenty minutes he claimed he had everything and when you reminded him of the bathroom he rushed there and gathered everything. You could only shake your head at the way his brain wasn’t fully working in the morning, but in a cute way.

So when he was finally finished and zipped his suitcase, he said: ”You didn’t need to do that for me you know? I appreciate it anyway, thank you love.“ And he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

You made your way to the lobby and then outside, hopping in one of the many taxis that waited outside. Lando named the driver your hotel address and paid him generously after arriving. Both of you went up to your room and you started with doing a light makeup for the day, you didn’t want to look too caked up but a little bit never hurt anyone. You also changed into something fancier and looked not too much. Lando chilled on your bed just like you did in his room minutes prior. When you had everything packed, it was 10:28 am, just like Lando said, you had to leave for the airport at 10:30 am.

”I‘m done!“ and with that he got off the bed and took both of your suitcases in his hand, rolling them behind him.

”You do know that I can take my suitcase as well, you don’t need to.“

”But I want to, I wish I had another hand to hold yours but sadly I don’t.“

You smiled and went to the lobby where you again, hopped in a taxi that brought you to the airport. Due to traffic, you arrived at 10:49 am, giving you only ten minutes until the helicopter was to start.

”Lando, why are you so slow? We need to catch it.“

”Will you calm down? I don’t think the helicopter, that is specifically rented for me, will take off without me“, he laughed and when you thought about it, it did make sense, now you could only laugh after slowing down as well. When you arrived at the VIP check in, you were taken to the place where the helicopters were, one guy loaded both of your stuff in the back and another guy showed you what and what not to do on a helicopter, just a safety check. And when you finally sat in it, with your headphones on, you got butterflies. You were really doing this, going to spa with a boy you met the day before. He could easily kidnap you now, nobody would know, well your best friend would know. You had faith that he wouldn’t do such thing and before you knew it, you took off and flew through the air to another country.

The flight was fun, you and Lando talked without a break and took funny pictures, but only selfies this time. Which reminded you, that you haven’t had a look at the ones you took yesterday evening. So when you landed, a car picked you up and drove you to the circuit, the butterflies only intensifying now. You were about to meet people that were holy to Lando, what would he say? Would he introduce you? And if yes, as what? Girlfriend? No, you guys aren’t together. As a friend? Technically you weren’t even friends. As the girl, he chatted up on Raya and took her to spa because she‘s a good fuck? No, he couldn’t. But you reached the circuit before you could think about it more, the door opened, Lando got out and held his hand out to you to help you get out. You took it gladly and hopped out of the car, you thought he would now release his hand, but no. He kept yours in a tight grip when he started walking toward the entrance. You followed him and smiled. Holding his hand was a good feeling, you felt protected and safe, especially in this new surroundings. Walking towards the McLaren hospitality, you now were shaking with nerves, you didn’t even know why. Meeting new people always made you feel this way.

”Are you okay?“

”Yes, Lan. I‘m just nervous. Meeting your people and all that.“

”Don’t be, they‘ll love you. I spend a lot of time with them and I know how they are, you will love them too, they’re just like me.“

”Just don’t leave me alone for the first ten minutes please.“

”I‘ll never leave you, darling.“

With that, you entered the building and you were met with a lot of people. He immediately greeted everyone that came up to him to say hi, he even took a few minutes to chat with them. So when you made your way to the offices of Zak and Andrea, you were shaking again.

”Relax love, there are barely any people here. It’s not a race weekend, only tire testing with Pirelli.“

”Barely any people? Lando that place was filled with humans!“

”Yeah, but don’t worry, the garage won’t be as filled.“

You reached the offices and Lando knocked on a door, when the door opened you were met with Andrea.

”Morning Andrea! I just wanted to let you know that Y/N will be joining me today, I spoke with Zak and he said it wouldn’t be a problem.“

”Of course not! Welcome Y/N! How are you?“

”Thank you, I‘m good, a bit nervous, it’s a lot to take in.“

”Yeah I get it! Why weren’t you there on the weekend? You missed a good weekend!“

”Well I uhm“, you looked at Lando for help, what should you say?

”She wasn’t free so I took her today, I wanted her to see what I do“, Lando said for you.

”What a shame! Maybe you can come to a race after the summer break, it’s way better than just tire testing.“

”I‘d love to, thank you.“

With that, he said his goodbyes and went back to work, and Lando was already knocking on the other door, which belonged to Zak.

He opened the door and was met with the same smile Andrea had.

”You must be Y/N! It’s nice to meet you.“

”Thank you for letting me come. It’s also nice to meet you!“

”Ah don’t worry, Lando always has free spots for a plus one. What exactly are you to Lando? I’ve never seen or heard about you before, no offense.“

”None taken, uhm I‘m uhm, a friend of Lando’s?“

You wanted to sound confident but it came out more like a question, because you really didn’t know what you were.

”Yeah exactly, she‘s a good friend and we met in Amsterdam, I figured why not bring her you know.“

”I get it, I get it, well have fun Y/N. Maybe we‘ll see each other again.“

”Thank you, I hope so too.“

You squeezed Lando’s hand and he said his goodbyes as well and pulled you to his drivers' room.

”Wasn’t that bad, was it?“

”It was fine, yes.“

”Come on, meeting the guys will be easier.“

Due to the rain, he pulled a rain jacket over his hoodie and gave you one as well. You pulled it over and it was too big on you, but you loved an oversized look. So you went to the garage where people stood and worked a little on the car, just cleaning the remainders from the weekend.

”Guys this is Y/N, my uhm friend.“

Lando did the rounds with you and introduced you to everyone. They were lovely, they all welcomed you with open arms and made you feel comfortable. When it was time for Lando to make his way around the track, you had no trouble with staying with the crew and chatting.

It did get uncomfortable when one of his mechanics asked how the two of you met, but you said online, and judging by their looks, they understood what you meant.

After two hours Lando was done, he had already done his meetings and now was fully released for his summer break. He, again, took your hand and held it until you walked to the car, picking you up to drive to a hotel. You thought he would let go of your hand once you were in the car, but you were wrong. He held it even when you sat next to each other, talking and getting to know each other.

When you arrived at the hotel, Lando checked you in and you both went up to the room. It was a rather small room, but enough for one night. It now was 4:00 pm and you still had three hours until the date with Lando. Lando removed his shoes and jumped onto the bed.

”It’s bouncy, the last bed was hard, what do you think is better?“

”I think hard, when you fuck me, the whole bed will shake.“

He smirked and patted the space next to him, on which you laid down. When you cuddled into his side you noticed you tired you actually were, you didn’t catch much sleep during the week due to you working late and having to get up early, and last night, Lando kept you up for most of it. You needed a nap, and when you looked Lando into his eyes, you noticed that he felt the same.

”Should we take a nap? I‘m fucking tired.“

You nodded with your head, ”I was about to say the same actually.“

You both removed the denim you had on and now laid down on the bed again, cuddling under the blanket. You were glad he texted you, it felt like he was the best company ever and you only met him a day ago.

Two hours later you woke up, feeling completely out of this world, you needed a few minutes to figure out who and where you were. When you saw Lando being asleep, you thought about waking him up. After all the date would start in an hour but did he need that much time for getting ready? You doubt it.

So with that you got up and started to do a little heavier makeup look, nothing bad, just a touch up and the eyeshadow got a shade darker. You picked out the clothing for later and after thirty minutes it was time to wake Lando. With your hand on his shoulder, you started to quietly shake him.

”Lando, baby, wake up. It’s almost time for us to leave.“

You felt him stir and look at you with the same expression you had earlier, he clearly was somewhere else, so you laid down next to him and let him wake up in peace. After five more minutes, he finally came back and started getting ready as well. When he saw you in your outfit, you just put on, he couldn’t help himself but stare. He‘d never seen such a beautiful girl.

”You look fantastic baby.“

You could only blush.

The restaurant he chose was only a five minute walk, so you didn’t need to catch a taxi.

At 6:50 pm you left the hotel and made your way to the restaurant, Lando held your hand and you couldn’t feel more safe than now. It didn’t even bother you, when you passed a group of young men, which normally would have freaked you out.

When you arrived, the nice lady showed you to your table, it was in a more secluded area, where you two could have some privacy. Sitting down, the waiter came and took your drink order, after a few seconds you both settled for a fruity cocktail. The pizzeria wasn’t as filled with people as you had thought and you were thankful for it. You skipped through the menu while talking with Lando, he couldn’t choose either, too many yummy things were listed, and you eventually both settled on pizza. You could never go wrong with a pizza, could you?

You liked how easy things were with Lando, you never had a silent minute, and you were always talking about something. Learning new things from the other with every word. He was such a goofball, always making you laugh and giggle, as well as he was a gentleman, paying for the meal and helping you with your chair. He complimented you with everything you did.

When the pizzas arrived you only stopped talking, when the mouth was full, otherwise, you talked about your future plans, family, your jobs, hobbies, and whatnot. You couldn’t remember anymore, it was so natural at this point, that it felt like your hundreds date.

Lando ordered the bill and paid the meal, not listening to your protests of wanting to help him with that, he only gave you a stern look, but in a funny way. When you made your way out of the restaurant and into a park that was nearby, Lando wanted to ask you a question, he had on his mind the whole day.

”So will you come with me and my family on holiday?“

part three

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY TWO

in which eddie is honest. for real, this time.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, discussion of/allusions to smut from last chapter, angst, not edited (what's new though), upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.1k+

→ a/n: welp. this... yeah, this is a lot. i truly hope it's worth it. in the waiting, anticipation, and length. if it isn't... my bad. i'm sorry in advance. also, please note, pov change only applies to the memory.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

22:00 ──────────────ㅇ─ 24:00

His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”

—

HOUR TWENTY TWO – 1:00 PM

You can’t speak. It’s as if you’re frozen; every muscle, including your tongue, has gone rigid. Every racing thought escapes just beyond your reach. Every single one of the last twenty two hours pound behind your rib cage, and you think you might just faint. Right here, right now. The blood rushes your ears as your body goes ice cold, and even the railing cutting into your palm seems to drift away from you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t even try to deny it. He knows you heard what he said – he can’t take it back. It’s written plainly on his face that if he could, he would swallow back down those disastrous words. He’d grab that destruction four letter word right out of the air, no doubt, and set it aflame. He’d blow away the ash if he could guarantee you would have never heard it.

But he can’t. You heard him. 

I’ve loved you for so long. 

Everything is heavy. The air, your limbs, your godforsaken tongue. 

“Say something,” he suddenly begs. You’ve never seen Eddie look so desperate, eyes wet and voice cracking, “Anything.” 

You want to answer him. Your bones ache with the need – the need to reply, the need to question, the need to do anything but stare at him with what he must surely mistake for horror.

Were you horrified? Were you?

You don’t know. 

It’s why you can’t answer him. 

“I-” he starts up again, breaking down even further right before your eyes. You want to reach out, to coddle him, to tell him it’s fine. But it’s not fine. 

You don’t even get the chance to ruminate on just how not fine it is, or that heat beginning to come to a boil in the pit of your stomach, because the sound of one of the neighbors exiting out onto their own balcony interrupts the infinitely delicate moment. 

“Hey there, Eds-” You don’t know what actually interrupts the gruff man that steps out, who exudes familiarity with Eddie until he takes in the scene before him. 

Eddie, completely fucking naked. You, with only a shirt on. If it weren’t for the moment at hand and the trembling emotions coming to fruition inside of you, you’d probably find it comical. You’d probably find a way to join in the old man’s single guffaw before the two of you meet each other’s gaze and become aware of what exactly is happening.

But it’s not funny. You’re both fucking naked — physically and emotionally — and it’s not funny.

You’re mortified as both of you are scrambling across the balcony, a whirlwind of discarded clothes fisted and nearly tripping over each other to shove back into Eddie’s living room. That embarrassment now trickles down into the start of a boil, everything in you becoming red-hot from how flustered you’ve become and the way you can’t have a second to just process it all. 

When you turn to face Eddie once the sliding door has slammed shut, his cheeks are the brightest pink imaginable. 

“What the fuck,” you whisper out, trying to steady your breathing, trying to take it all in. 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your adrenaline is almost making you sick. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he catches your whisper amongst your stoic silence and seems to forget the moment that his neighbor had just shattered, voice clear as day as he pulls his curtains shut. You swear you catch the old man still staring, still laughing, and you’re just grateful that you’re not the one completely nude, “I had no idea Mr. Jenkins would come outside, usually none of those fuckers see the light of day before sundow-”

“Your neighbor just saw us naked,” you almost scream. You want to shout, want to throw everything in sight. You crave to flip that coffee table in the center of the room and throw a fit that outdoes even the most petulant of toddlers.

“I know, I-“

“If you say sorry again, I’m walking back out there,” you take a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm you’re shaking body, “And I’m throwing myself off the fucking balcony.”

Maybe you’ll be able to laugh about it in five years. A year, even. Hell, a month or as soon as next week. But you can’t right now; all you want to do is cry.

Some random man just saw you naked. Eddie apparently fucking loves you. 

It might be the sleep deprivation and it might be the fact that it feels like the Universe is laughing in your face at every turn right now. Whatever higher power exists seems to be waiting around every corner for the chance to kick you repeatedly as you stumble to this finish line. And you can’t fucking take it.

So you give in. You give in to that childish need to stomp your feet and scream until you’re blue in your lips.

“I just- Fuck!” Eddie jumps a bit at your exclamation, he’s still naked, “I can’t catch a break! I can’t catch a fucking break. First, I’m showing up here, and I’m stuck with you for twenty four hours. I’m stuck with the man I hate for a whole fucking day,” you’re full on pacing, not caring how ridiculous this scene would appear to anyone. Your hands wave erratically in the space around you, and all Eddie can do is stare, tense with wide eyes, “And I cry in front of you, have full breakdowns in front of you. I listen to you remind me over and over how much you truly despise only to now suddenly find out that, hey! I actually love you! And do I get to process that? No. Because now, some fucking old man that lives next door to you has seen my goddamn vag-“ 

Eddie’s entire demeanor collapses. “Oh, so now I’m back to being the man you hate?” 

You pause your ranting, realizing what you’ve said. 

You’re just angry. You should have thought before you spoke, before you opened your mouth and began to spew your venom, because you can see the way the words have struck Eddie. Not your intention.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“But you said that,” he flatly argues back. 

Your stomach twists.

“I’m just-“ your tongue is back to being heavy as the two of you face one another. Feet apart, worlds apart. “I’m fucking embarrassed, Eddie.” 

“You think I’m not?” he scowls, and you try to tell your racing heart it’s a good sign. But it’s not. You almost preferred his walls dividing the two of you, “Shit fucking happens. We got caught — we fucking dirty talked about getting caught! Big fucking deal! Karmic justice or whatever bullshit people spew. It doesn’t mean I’m going to- It doesn’t change-“ he’s stuttering now, matching that exasperation that had you pacing just moments before. He huffs, a hand reaching up and dragging his bangs upward, harsh at the root as he finally drops his hands in his own defeat, palms slapping his sides, “Everything changes. You said that, not me. You said everything changes, and all it takes is a little bit of fucking embarrassment to go back on your word?” 

He’s still fucking naked. You still can’t think.

“I’m not having this conversation with you naked,” you whisper, almost in disbelief as you shake your head, “I’m- Put your fucking clothes on. Please.” 

“Put my clothes on?” he scoffs, taking a step closer to you, “Put my clothes on? Do you mean the same clothes you just insisted I take off not even ten minutes ago?” 

“We were having sex!” you yell. You’re sure if the old man is no longer on his balcony, he can hear you through the walls. Hell, even if he is still outside, it’s likely he hears the screaming match beginning, “Why- Why are you turning this on me right now? You just said you fucking love me! The least of our issues right now is me telling you to get fucking dressed!” 

“Why are you lashing out at me right now?” Eddie’s voice is louder than yours, something more broken inside of it, “I-“

“Clothes,” you grit out, avoiding his eyes as you start to yank your panties on violently, “Now.” 

You can still feel him. His essence is dripping between your thighs. And you don’t find any sense of enjoyment in it, you don’t savor that quick-fading warmth nor the reminder of the pleasure he’d just brought you. It just reminds you of the words he had said all while not even looking you in the eyes. He couldn’t even face you as he had admitted it. 

One thing at a time, you try to remind yourself. One fucking thing at a time. 

Eddie’s own redressing is another sight that maybe, hopefully, one day you’ll look back on and laugh at. But right now, it can’t spark any amusement in you. Not as all your emotions slam back into you at full force.

You’re embarrassed. You’re confused. You’re angry.

“Happy?” he spits out once his boxers are on, shirt tugged back on so hard over his head that his curls frizz up.

“No,” your eyes are burning, and you feel it again. All those desperate emotions. Like a wild animal inside of you has begun to claw at your insides, making you bleed from the inside out. 

Eddie loves you — and he has, for a long time, apparently.  

Eddie’s neighbor has seen you naked. Saw your full bottom half exposed.

You’ve managed to hurt Eddie’s feelings, again.

Eddie fucking loves you and never thought to mention it. He has for a long time.

All your tempered strings snap, that wild and stricken thing inside of you finally cutting loose.

You don’t know what you’re angry at. You’re angry at him, and yet you’re not. You’re angry at the situation, and yet you’re not. You are bitter from words withheld and you are sour from every moment that paves the road that brought you two to this very moment.

You’re just angry.

“What did you mean?” the question comes out sharply enough to make his own defiant anger fade ever so slightly as he physically flinches, “I- I need to know what the Hell you meant, Eddie.” 

Anger is metallic on your tongue. It seeps from your skin, floods the air, only further dampens everything already so heavy. 

The longer he doesn’t answer you, the more smothering the entirety of the apartment becomes.

“Just tell me. Make it make sense, because right now?” you pause for a deep and shaky breath. Your eyesight is blurry now. Eyes red rimmed with tears that will surely sear your cheeks if they find the nerve to be shed, “Right now, I don’t get it. Over and over and over again, you have reminded me that you hate me. Prior to tonight, it was safe to assume that scorning my existence was one of your favorite pastimes. And I know, I get it — everything has changed. But- But-“ 

How can anything change if you weren’t honest to begin with? 

Did anything change for him? While you were discovering and tending to sore feelings that had been festering for a while but had never seen the light of day, was he only nursing an old wound? 

“But what?” his voice drops low. His entire demeanor has dropped, cowering down before you. His head dips down, his shoulders droop with prepared rejection, you watch the man before you, the man you had just let defile you and the man you had just worshiped on your goddamn knees, turn to dust.

A shaky gasp. Wobbly knees. The blood rushes through your ears again, flushing out any noise except the two of you breathing out of sync. His deep breaths, accepting and welcoming a rejection he was so sure he was receiving. Your shallow breaths, panting and rapid and trying to just get everything to slow the fuck down.

You were right. Once the tears shed, they burn a trail of Hellish fury right down the center of each cheek. “When I say everything has changed between us, what does that mean to you?” 

He’s undressing an old wound, an open slash that seems to be unable to form a scab. You’re pressing on bruises, aching parts of you that had purpled from his neglect long ago. It’s clear as day now — the difference.

You no longer care about the embarrassment of being caught.

“What do you want it to mean?” 

“Don’t do that,” the tears fall faster now. You can’t even begin to dig into this chasm of emotions. Are you angry at him? Are you disappointed by the circumstances? Do you love him? “I want an answer — I need your answer. You promised me your honesty, so give me it. Now.” 

His eyes meet yours, and your entire world seems to fold into itself, “It… doesn’t mean much. It doesn’t change much.” 

Everything has only changed for you. 

“So it means nothing, then? You have me at your disposal, you have me on my fucking knees for you, you tell me you fucking love me, and it all means nothing?” 

You’re twisting his words and you know it. But you can’t help it, can’t stop it. 

“I never said that!” his voice is no longer low and quiet. Sudden worry creases beside his eyes as his mouth goes slack in shock, “I never said it meant nothing.” 

“But it doesn’t mean much, right?” You hate your wet cheeks. You hate the way everything in you is somehow slow-breaking, yet suddenly shattering. An unnerving juxtaposition that is drowning you and sending you reeling over and over again, “It doesn’t change much, right? Because when I said that, Eddie, I meant it – everything fucking changed for me. It wasn’t- It’s not- This isn’t just some throwaway thing to me. Not even a day ago, I thought I had to hate you with everything I had. I thought I had to hate you.”

And I don’t. Not even a little bit. Even right now, when I should. 

“Is that what you think I’m saying?” his voice is low where your voice has risen, his face calm where yours has gone stormy. 

Where you’re on fire, he’s treading still waters. The opposite dilemma that has always existed, and the one you had the nerve to see as poetic. But water meeting flames is never poetic. It never ends well. You should have seen that coming from a mile away.

“What am I supposed to think?” you also quiet your tone to match his. You wonder if the neighbors really had heard a thing. You almost hope they had, that this argument is affecting someone else’s day the way it’s affecting you, “You’re standing here, and you’re telling me it doesn’t mean much, and-“

“It doesn’t change much,” he corrects, and you’re now the one flinching at the crack in his voice. “Not for me. Not when I-“

Not when I’ve loved you for so long.

He can’t even finish his own sentence.

“So what does it change?” you throw your hands out in exasperation, “If it doesn’t change much, what has it changed?” 

There it is again — his silence, your anger. 

“Is it not enough to just know it changes something?” 

If you were stupid, you’d take his tone as pleading. You’d mistake it for begging. But you can’t. For all your fury, you can’t believe that he’s actually stooped so low as to beg for you, especially after what he’s just said. Time and time again, you had repeatedly cracked yourself wide open for him, and he’d managed to rip your heart right out of your chest with such a simply yet damning statement. The most casually cruel bit of honesty he had offered you yet tonight: that nothing changes.

“We’re back to square one,” you choke out in realization, “I- Fuck. This entire time, you weren’t honest with me.” 

He opens his mouth quickly, and for a second you believe he’ll offer an explanation that can soothe over the ache. He’ll come up with an excuse that you can buy, he’ll explain himself in a way that proves you wrong, and the sweet oblivious bliss can return. 

“No,” he says instead after careful consideration, “I wasn’t honest with you.” 

Your tears are running rampant as you only nod slowly, pressing your lips together in defeat, “Awesome. Great,” you reach up, sniffling as you swipe at your nose, still silently quiet but no longer awarding him with any display of your rage, of your hurt, of anything but your acceptance, “No, really, that’s- Cool. Nothing changes. I get it.” 

I’ve loved you for so long. 

It didn’t make sense, but you don’t have it in you to dissect it any further. He had loved you the entire time, and still set out to make you bleed. His grand admission doesn’t change a single fucking thing. 

You don’t say another word as you grab your pair of jeans up into your fist, being sure to move slowly and not in the haste every nerve in your body calls for. You need to leave – you need out of this apartment, and you need to never see Eddie Munson again. It wouldn’t be a far leap from what your friends already deal with. If the friendships take blows of damage from it, so be it-

“Where are you going?” he asks, standing stiller than a statue as he watches you.

You grab your bag, “I’m leaving. The deal’s off. Or- I don’t know. Tell them the bet’s off-”

“The bet is not off-”

“It is,” you turn to him, absolutely frozen in your resolution, “It really, really is. You can even fucking lie to them if you want, I don’t care. Figure out a way to get the money but I don’t want it. I’m done.” 

“So that’s it?” he scoffs in disbelief. When you pull on your jeans, when you sling your bag back over your shoulder and begin to walk to the counter where your phone was left, he realizes that it’s really happening. He realizes you’re truly done, “No questions? I just told you I wasn’t fucking honest, and you’re just going to walk away, not even demand I tell the tru-”

“I’m tired of pulling the truth from you,” you finally move with some of the aggression you felt, hand smacking the counter beside your phone, “If you care so much, if you love me, I shouldn’t have to beg until my knees bleed for you to actually be honest with me,” you take your phone, shoving it into your back pocket before you look at him, “I can’t keep doing this. You were always right. They’re your friends. Congratulations, you got what you always said you wanted. You won’t have to deal with me anymore – consider this a farewell from your life. I’ll make sure no one invites you to my fucking funeral.” 

You assume he grabs you due to your cruel reference to his insult from the very beginning of the night, that he’s going to fight you for that bit of your oddly calm speech. But when his hands wrap around your bicep, and you face him with those silent tears still racing, what comes out of his mouth stuns you. 

“I’ll be honest,” he is pleading, he is begging, “Stay, and I’ll tell you everything. I don’t even fucking care about the bet — we can call off, everyone else can go to Hell. I don’t care about the money, I don’t care about the bet, I just-” he pauses, and you watch the desperation building taller and taller within him, “Stay and let me explain.”

You should tell him no. You should tell him to go to Hell. If you stay and hear him out, it will only end in pain for you. You should leave.

Instead, your bag begins to slip off your shoulder. 

“You have ten minutes,” you whisper as his hand finally releases its grip, “Explain.”

—

SIX MONTHS EARLIER - EDDIE’S POV

If he were smart, Eddie would’ve kept his word.

He’d told them he wasn’t showing up. He’d told them he had work (not a complete lie), and that he wouldn’t make it tonight. He just hadn’t felt like drinking anymore — not since two weeks prior, when he’d gotten black out drunk while hanging out with Nancy, throwing his own personal pity party. 

Pathetic.

It wasn’t just that killer headache that had been haunting Eddie since that night. It was much more than that; it was solid and palpable regret. He’d thrown back too many beers, mixed it with some sort of wine coolers that Nancy offered him once he started to feel the buzz. All it took was just a bit too much alcohol in his system, and suddenly, his rant that Nancy had agreed to indulge him in became so much more. One moment, he was just complaining about you. And the next, he was rambling, letting less harsh words slip between the complaints, more compliments than things he wanted you to change. One wine cooler in, and he was no longer complaining about the way everyone had been fawning over you after a full six months of friendship, but instead the way that your sad eyes and pouting lips following him around a room was cosmically unfair. 

He didn’t remember much of the rest of the night, and he was glad when Nancy had given him a pitiful look over the cups of coffee she offered. 

He’d told her. He knew he’d admitted his stupid, annoying, despicable crush on you to her. Probably whined about the way you and Harrington had clearly had something going on. Definitely spoke too much about how badly he wanted to experience your gentle hand in his calloused one, or to feel your arms wrap around his neck in greeting rather than daggers from your glare every time he entered a room. Hell, he’s sure there was a good thirty minute period amongst the fuzzy memories where he’d sat on the edge of tears as he continued to mumble about how he wasn’t good enough for you.

Nancy Wheeler, his best friend, finally knew. Six fucking months of keeping it under wraps, and Eddie Munson had finally slipped up.

And she clearly hasn’t forgotten as Eddie had prayed she would every single night as she’s the one to answer his knocks on Steve’s door, grinning with the hidden knowledge.

She’d texted him with one last plea for him to show up. Insisted everyone was here. Went so far as to make him a list, and made sure to add your name at the end. It had been phrased like an afterthought on the screen, but he knew her too well. He knew Nancy purposefully mentioned you.

“Munson! Finally! It took you long enough,” she squeals, clearly already halfway to drunk before she quiets down, “And you said you weren’t coming. Wonder what, or who, changed your mind.” 

“Fuck off.” 

It had been a bad day. Work, classes, a phone call with Wayne that had just left Eddie disheartened and terribly homesick. It was selfish, but the thought of seeing you in passing tonight, even if you did seem to dislike him just as he had intended, made it all a bit more bearable. 

Coming home. Seeing you felt like coming home, even if you’d slammed the front door on his face.

He follows Nancy down the hall, a pit growing in the bottom of his stomach, heavy as ever. He shouldn’t have even wanted to see you. The last time he had seen you, you’d been out for blood, blatantly ruining a date he’d managed to bag with Chrissy Cunningham. Chrissy, who never gave him the time of day in high school. Chrissy, who was clearly set on using him as a rebound during yet another break from Jason. Chrissy, who’s only flaw wasn't just the fact that she wasn’t you.

“Eddie, my man!” Argyle greets Eddie the moment he enters the living room. He’s lounging on the couch, Jonathan to his right and a space where Nancy clearly had occupied now empty. 

Eddie nods, still feeling the week weighing him down. No sight of you yet, “Hey, man.” 

He just wanted to see you. One glimpse, preferably before you’ve caught sight of him, and he’d be fine. He’d learned to live with those fleeting moments the last six months, he could keep it up for just a bit longer.

He’d get over you eventually. Even if it killed him.

He had to give his plan time to work. So far, he’d done well, easily offering you a cold shoulder and nothing more after that first night. It wasn’t easy — he doesn’t think anyone would find the task of being cool towards someone as radiant as you easy — but he’d done it. Brick by brick, his wall of invincibility was standing tall and strong between you two. It was safer this way, he had to remind himself. It was better to run off of brief glances of your smiles and laughter never directed at him than to risk anything more. He’d only disappoint you, or you’d magically disappoint him, and it would end in bloodshed. Someone like you, someone so good and kind and easy to gravitate towards, would leave Eddie broken beyond damage. 

You didn’t go for guys like Eddie. Steve had made that clear since day one.

Eddie takes the loveseat as Nancy returns to Jonathan’s side. He tries to make it subtle, the way he twists his head to glance around the room as he removes his jacket, eyes roaming until he finds you. In the kitchen, with Steve and Robin, tense back telling him you’d already noticed his arrival.

So much for seeing you smile.

He tries to keep up with the conversation going on. Argyle and Jonathan are having some sort of debate about aliens, nothing short of heated and passionate, and he’d normally be jumping in without hesitation. But his eyes can’t stop flickering to the kitchen and each time, he can see you downing even more alcohol. He knows you don’t like him, but did you hate him that much?

“You’re awfully quiet,” Nancy leans over to whisper as Jonathan grows in volume about another branch of a conspiracy theory.

“Just tired,” he flatly replies. He’s suddenly itching to get his hands onto some alcohol of his own. Fuck the lessons he should’ve learned a few weeks ago. Fuck his regret in confiding in Nancy.

“Was work rough?”

He hums pathetically in response, eyes glued to the kitchen still. To you.

Nancy’s eyes finally follow his focus, “Have you… I don’t know, ever tried just talking to her?”

He snaps from his daze at that, head turning quickly to Nancy, “I talk to her all the time.” 

“You do not.”

“I do too.”

“Never nicely,” she points out, narrowing her eyes, “You’re like a little boy on the playground, tugging on her pigtails until she figures it ou-“ 

“I don’t want her to figure it out,” he cuts off the assumption, eyes widening in horror at the thought, “Christ, Nance. I thought I made that clear when I ended up shitfaced on your couch.” 

Nancy softens. She can see what’s happening here, see every dampening thought that weighs Eddie down. He might not remember his drunken rambles, but she does. 

“The only thing you made clear is what a spectacular ass you’re making out of yourself,” her words hold no bite, only truth, “Who cares what Steve said that night? He was drunk.” 

“So was I,” Eddie’s eyes are back on you, palms running up his outer thighs until he curls them to fists by his hips, “I was drunk when I talked to you about her. Forget about it.” 

Surprisingly, his stubborn best friend leaves it be. Puts the pointless argument to rest.

Eddie’s feelings can’t rest, though. 

Every night, he tells himself it’ll all go away. The distance will make his heart grow harder, and he’ll eventually be able to wash himself of you one of these days. And every night, all the feelings you’ve sprouted inside of him only teem their way higher, up into his throat and choking him with every last breath before he falls asleep. He can’t forget those first few weeks, the way you seemed to think his coldness was a phase. You’d tried so desperately to seek him out at every function, sparked so many failed conversations with him that left him to burn. Every smile you’d offered him during that time, he’d taken for granted.

Even last week, when you’d interrupted his date, he’d let himself relish in the memory of your attention. Pathetic. 

Had you been jealous? Had you just been spiteful, finally giving him a taste of his own medicine? He couldn’t decide, wouldn’t let himself linger on the reasoning. But he’d remembered your touch, could still feel it scarring his skin wherever your palm of fingertips had rested as you’d scared off Chrissy. He’d even hesitated in the shower that night, pausing for a moment before washing over the shoulder you’d gripped when you’d first approached their table and embarrassed him without care. 

He deserved your spite. 

And he deserves to have to overhear the conversation you’re currently having in the kitchen. You’re going on and on about all the men you’ve had dates with, detailing out every one night stand for Steve and Robin who listen with eager ears.

It makes his stomach churn and twist sharply. Each new man you bring to your roster makes his throat burn with jealousy, plain and simple. And he knows it written all over his face when Nancy leans over and puts a hand on his knee, giving him a concerned look. 

Even the change of topic between Argyle and Jonathan on goddamn Bigfoot can’t overtake the sharp cut of your bragging. 

“I’ve never seen your eyes so green, Eddie.” 

He’s about to snipe back that his eyes are brown, and be unnecessarily cruel from his sour mood, when he realizes what she means.

“I’m not jealous,” he lies through his teeth.

“You very much are.” 

He doesn’t have it in him to bicker back and forth about this again. Not about you, and not with Nancy, “What does it matter? Like I said, me and her? Never gonna happen.”

He had said that. He remembers that, at least, from his drunken confession. He’s sure he reiterated that point several times once he’d made it past the point of coherency. 

“She’s lying,” Nancy casually whispers, pulling her hand back, “She- Us girls talk, you know? Just… she’s lying.” 

“I went on a date with Chrissy. It doesn’t matter.” 

And she has no clue how fucking hung up on her I am. She’ll never know if I have anything to do with it.

“You can keep saying that,” Nancy glances, making sure their other two friends on the couch are still too deep in conversation to listen in, “But we both know that’s not true.” 

Unsurprising. Even if Nancy hadn’t listened to him cry that night about all his miserable yearning, all his unrequited feelings born out of a mess he got himself into, she would have known. Eddie has tried to guard himself when it comes to you, but there’s some times his leashed affection can’t help but seep out. 

Whenever you stumble on sidewalks beside him, his arms and hands are the first to fly out. Whenever the group has gone out to bars altogether, he watches you like a hawk, almost daring the men surrounding you to disrespect you. Whenever your birthday came around, he’d bought that damn gift card to his favorite coffee shop, all because he saw you frequent it twice. Although, to be fair, he’d made Harrington be the messenger there. He wouldn’t have been able to look you in your eye, wouldn’t have been able to put up the bitter persona on a day that should be special to you. He didn’t want to ruin your birthday, so he’d simply sat on the sidelines. Let everyone else go out and celebrate with you. Let everyone else pour enough affection into your cup, even when he wishes his own could have been the final drops to cause it to overfill. 

He had to tread carefully. It’d be too easy — to let himself pour out all these silly feelings and meaningless attraction. One wrong move, and he’d cause his own undoing. His own destruction. It doesn’t matter if it would be by your hand; he’d only have himself to blame at the end of the day.

He’s lost in thought, still itching for a drink, when Nancy is suddenly standing over him. “We’re going out for a smoke, you in?” 

He shakes his head numbly. His mind is far away now, getting lost in all that he’s done wrong, all that he can’t have. 

He’s homesick. He’s watched the way you’ve interacted with Robin and Steve the entire night, and he’s goddamn homesick for a home that he’ll never hold the keys to. 

“You sure, man?” Argyle asks him, wiggling his brows, “I brought the good shit.” 

Numbing his mind with drugs. It’s tempting.

“I’m good,” he reaffirms, still speaking in monotone. He doesn’t have the energy to put up a brave face, too focused on his heavy chest and that miserable pit in his gut still. 

And everyone leaves. He’s sure there’s something poetic for his stormy mind to pick up on there, as he watches his friends gather without him and exit to the outside, but he’s more focused on a miniscule detail.

You’re not with them.

Meaning you’re still in the kitchen.

And God, he really should know better. He should stay planted in his seat and he should sit in his misery until they all return. Only trouble can come from not doing so. But then his body moves to its own accord, fueled by something wickedly cruel and terribly homesick as he grabs one of the bottles of beer off the coffee table. It’s Nancy’s, he’s sure of it. Her lipstick stains the opposite side of the rim he takes a swig from. The beer has long since gone lukewarm, but beggars can’t be choosers. He clears his throat as the bitter lingers on his tongue.

He should know better.

But he doesn’t. He really, really doesn’t as he enters the kitchen. You’re on your phone as he stands in the doorway, and there’s no time to hide what you’d been glancing over.

A dating app.

You spin to face him, and he imagines a world where your eyes land on him and light up. Something akin to that first night, to those first few weeks. Where you look at him with purpose, and he sees relief flood your irises rather than irritation or fear. 

No such luck. He only has himself to blame.

He can’t think of anything else to say, so like an idiot, he gestures vaguely with the bottle of beer towards your phone, “Those apps fucking suck.” 

That jealousy is still gnawing at him. Hateful, painful, reckless. 

You look down at your phone for a second, and click to exit whatever messages you’d been on. And then you look back up at him.

“You’ve used them in the past?” you question him, but he’s still stuck on all the recounts of your escapades he’d overheard tonight. Whether or not they were true didn’t matter. All he sees when he closes his eyes is you, with other men. You, looking at someone else with purpose, relieved eyes awarded to someone more worthy.

He’s lucky he can choke out a short, “Nope,” and make it not sound strangled. 

“Okay,” your attention returns to your phone screen, and Eddie’s returns to his internal battle.

He’s jealous. So goddamn jealous it’s insufferable. It’s not your fault – he chose to push you away, he chose to lash out like a child for his own sanity and his own safety. You’d ruin him; you’ve already ruined him without even trying. If he gave up on the act, on this carefully thought out plan, he’d be beyond leftover rubble of a man. He’d be gone beyond recognition, reduced to ash and smoke. A nameless, forgotten whisper of dust that people would only point to and say, see? Look at that. That’s what becomes of you when you never learn. 

He’s pined enough in his lifetime after girls like you. Girls who were too good for him. He’d done it with Chrissy, and it was still causing him nothing but trouble. 

That burden didn’t hang over Chrissy, or over you. It was all Eddie’s own fault. Neither of you could help that he wasn’t good enough; it wasn’t either of your jobs to fix him or lower your standards for him. You’d even been kind, you’d even nearly fallen into that trap. 

It was for the better. All of it was for the better this way. 

And yet the jealousy remains. The anger still thrives between his ribs, and begs for release. 

“Why are you even still on them?” he should think over his words more carefully as they begin to roll off his tongues. He knows he’s in the wrong before he even continues, “I heard you’ve been having a shit time with the guys on there – quite the opposite of what you’ve been telling Harrington tonight, might I point out.” 

Each word is sharpened so intentionally, glinting from raking against that anger inside of him. You don’t deserve their prick. Really, he should just be comforting you the way the others do – how Robin surely was, how Steve must be. 

But it’s part of the plan. So he tampers down the jealousy and he feeds into the anger, lets it consume him. Because making you hate him is easier than letting you like him. It’s easier to watch the one you can’t have sneer at you like the enemy than let them smile at you like you’re just a friend. 

“I-” you falter in your words, and he decides to straighten his back, takes a deep breath as he slips the mask on effortlessly. He hates how easy it’s become. He hates how quickly he turns everything with you into a fight, “You win some, you lose some. It’s the nature of the app.” 

Sometimes, it’s like a game. And he can pretend that your hatred, your distaste, is also all a facade. Like the both of you are two sides of the same coin. A playful banter rather than an actual argument between two people who can’t even call themselves friends. When he looks at it like that, blinded by his delusion, it makes the ache dull. Sends it away for a few fleeting seconds, convinces himself he really can carry on this way. 

“You haven’t made it sound like you’re losing at all, tonight. I nearly started a drinking game with Nance where we took a swig every time you said you managed to pull another ‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’. Quite the boy count you’ve got there, player,” he forces a grin as he leans on the counter, watching his words get under your skin exactly as he had intended. 

You’re cute like this. Clearly drunk, getting flustered. He revels in the way your face physically scrunches in annoyance, the way he can watch you gear up to fight fire with fire. A sick, twisted game of cat and mouse that always can entertain him in the moment and haunt him at night. 

“You’re bluffing. You couldn’t hear me from all the way over there.”

He wonders, for a second, if you’d caught him staring at any point. He wonders if you’d even care.

“We could.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“Yes, we could.”

“You’re lying.” 

You cross your arms, and he can’t help but watch the way they push your chest up. He can’t help but ponder on how much better it would all feel if this were really playful banter. 

He has to refrain from physically shaking the thought from his mind. 

It’s for the better. 

He narrows his eyes, he grips onto the anger again, that hidden jealousy. He should know better. He should stop it. The words even feel heavy on his tongue, terribly forced. Because his anger isn’t at you. 

“I’m lying? You’re the one who’s been telling Stevie nothing but lies tonight,” and oh, how ironic, for the liar to be calling out someone’s little white lies, “Why do you need to even lie about all that, anyways? It’s not like the truth would be any more pathetic than the act you’re putting up,” the words come out a bit easier when imagines the barrel of the gun pointed at himself, as if he were speaking so casually cruelly into a mirror rather than at you, “Everyone strikes ou-”

He’s clearly struck a nerve. And it aches, but he reminds himself that that’s the point. That’s his goal.

 “I’m pathetic? Just last week, you lied to the group. You were trying to avoid being where I’d be and told them you had to walk your neighbor’s dog.” 

He wasn’t trying to avoid you. He was trying to avoid Nancy after his entire drunken confession fiasco. 

“I did!” he continues to lie. Even with no one to show for, he piles up his lies high. Buries himself beneath them, beneath his pathetic act and worthless reasons. It’s probably for the best that you had assumed that he was avoiding you. 

“Your apartment has a strict no pet policy, Eddie.” 

The act cracks for a moment as he freezes. Why did you know about his apartment’s pet policy? 

“How do you know that?”

It can’t be because you care, or even get curious about him. He’s done everything in his power to cause the exact opposite, to make you be repulsed by him and to run the other way if you can help it. 

“I didn’t, but Nancy did,” He doesn’t even react to the roll of your eyes, unable to get riled up as he usually would at that. It clicks for him; it makes sense, because Nancy had stormed down his door not even a day later, “It’s all I had to hear about the entire night. How she wishes we could get along, how she hates when you lie to her. Thanks for that, by the way.” 

Eddie does feel guilty about that. He doesn’t mean for his own self-destructive behavior to leach out to his friends, or even you. His goal has always been to make it so that when he’s not around, he’s not even an afterthought to you. But selfishly, part of him preens at the idea of you being reminded of him, of you thinking of him when he’s not in the room with you. It’s a conundrum. It’s almost deadlier than his other option. 

“It’s not my fuckin’ fault you go out with my friends,” he grumbles like a damn child, almost pouting in his guilt. There’s another selfish sliver of him that’s also upset at that – upset at the fact everyone else gets to bloom with your friendship and positive attention, but not him. Once again, it’s his own doing. He really shouldn’t be angry at you about it. 

“And it’s not my fault that you don’t.” 

Times like these make him want to give it all up. He has to physically tense his body, tick his jaw and bite his tongue to avoid throwing the entire act to the side. He wants nothing more than to grab you by your shoulders and shake you, scream that sometimes it is your fault. But you don’t know it – you can’t read his mind, see past his intentions. 

You don’t know what Steve had so generously reminded him of that very first night. 

“Whatever. Why are you lying to Steve?” his voice is devoid of all emotion despite the storm brewing inside of him. He can’t even blame it on alcohol – he wishes he could, but his tolerance to beer can handle the single sip he’s taken. He crosses his arms, wrapping them around his body, trying to protect that terrible vulnerability only he’s aware of. When your position mirrors his, he wonders for a moment if you’re also feeling it. 

But you’ve been drinking. This entire conversation, every emotion, can be blamed on that. You’re luckier than Eddie. 

“I’m not lying.”

“You are. With Steve, and with me at this very moment.” 

He lets a reaction at his own irony slip through for a brief second, eyebrows furrowing as the voice inside him screams hypocrite! Hypocrite! Hypocrite!

He wishes he could pretend to be oblivious to why he can’t stop bringing Steve up, but he knows better. He can bury the jealousy alive, but it still bites all the same. 

“How the fuck do you even know how my dating life is going? We aren’t exactly friends. Did Robin tell you? Did Steve tell you?” 

We aren’t exactly friends. 

He should relish that confirmation that his plan is working, that you truly don’t see him as a friend, but it just fucking stings. He swallows hard physically, as if it can help him swallow down the truth any better, but it does nothing for him. The truth only continues to choke him up. His tongue has momentarily frozen over in his mouth as he tries to push past the painful reminder and wrap up this conversation. He feels it, that sharp burn of an unattended wound, and he realizes at the wrong moment that whether or not he keeps you at an arm's length, bloodshed will always occur. 

At least this way, he tells himself it’s protecting himself. This way, the knife isn’t pointed at his own heart. 

“You’re right. We aren’t friends,” the words are poison on his tongue. They taste of dirt and rust, like a grave that screams to be dug up but he has no shovel. He’d tossed it once he’d sealed the tomb, like a fool, “But Rob and Nance are, and Nance and me are. See where I’m going with that one?” 

At least he wasn’t lying to you for a brief moment. Nance had told him. He’d throw you that bone, at least. 

“Well-” and with your own pause, you seemingly return the favor. You’re handing him yet another opportunity on a silver platter; exposing an insecurity that he should let live and let die, but he won’t for the sake of the wall he has bled to put up between you two, “You say that as if Nancy and I aren’t friends.” 

“Are you?” 

He’ll regret that taunt for the rest of his days. Two simple words, and he’s damned himself. The conversation that follows, about Instagram and followers and social standards of friendship, doesn’t even matter to him. It’s just a routine. Constant knives, clashing swords of words, lie after lie piling up with the bile in his throat as he shoots for kills. He hands over reason after reason for you to resent him, and makes sure that each punch lands. Ignores the ache, the one billowing in his knuckles as if each subtle insult he tosses your way doesn’t bruise his innards all the same way. By the end of the back and forth, it should be enough, for both of you. He’s accomplished the same thing he always sets out to do with every conversation: he pisses you off, putting another inch in that stretch between you two. 

But then you turn your back on him. And he deserves it. God, he deserves it. But he’s still full of bad ideas tonight, the awfulness of the last few days still suffocating him, and so he makes another decision to regret. He walks up behind you.

You open your phone, and he sees it. You’re on the dating app again, and the screen flashes with the face of your latest contender. 

He knows that face. He schools his face to remain even, but he fucking knows that face. 

The bartender at his local haunt. The only other person besides Nancy who had ever seen Eddie so miserable over you. He had been drinking alone that night, and the whiskey had him pouring out his guts to the poor guy. Slurred words of the girl who had slipped between his fingers, of the one who got away, of you. 

And that same bartender had been the one to sympathize with Eddie, claiming he understood. That he knew that feeling – dating around and doing anything in your power to get the girl you truly want off your mind. He said he had one of his own. He’d told Eddie that his pain-riddled speeches helped him make up his mind, that he was going to go after the girl he really wanted, that Eddie should do the same. 

Was this bartender your ex-boyfriend? Had the two of them been discussing the exact same girl?

Bad decisions. Over, and over, and over. It all comes to a rise within Eddie – not just the anger, but the jealousy and the hurt and the goddamn envy of the man on the screen. He hates the bartender, he hates himself, he hates the world at this point.

He tells himself he should add you to that list. But he doesn’t. He can’t. 

And it all spirals out of control before he can prove that to himself. Words grow sharper, small kindles of tension between the two of you finally explode to full blown flames, and he’s suddenly saying things he doesn’t mean. Things he’ll linger on for the days and weeks, the months to come. 

“You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted, Not by those assholes, not here-” 

He’s mid-lie, one finger on the trigger of the gun he assumed was aimed at his own chest, when it finally happens. A snap within both of you. Timed perfectly with the glass that shatters against the wall beside his head. 

Eddie learns two things that night. 

One, half of his plan worked. He’s succeeded. You hated Eddie Munson’s guts, and instead of him being content in his success, he’s sick to his stomach. It doesn’t bandage the wound inside of him, doesn’t pack away cotton nor cauterize the bleeding. It only worsens it. Widens it, impossibly so. He swears shards of that broken glass fly right into his unsuspecting chest, even if Nancy doesn’t find a trace on him when she comes back inside to see the aftermath. You hate him, he’s proven his point. He has proven himself to be the worst possible version of himself, the most unlovable man he had always seen in the mirror now residing in him staunchly enough that every single one of his friends sees it. 

He’d done it. He’d diminished any chance he had ever held of being friends with you. And he thought that, without a doubt, that meant he’d diminished any disastrous chance of letting you close enough to risk the chance of any more of his feelings getting involved. He thought it would have meant that he’d done it – he’d protected himself, and in some sick twisted way you, from inevitable bloodshed. 

But blood had still been shed. Even if his friends were only cleaning up broken glass in the kitchen, he could still see the stain of red across the floor and walls from you and him. He was bleeding out for you, but he had just driven the knife in deep enough that you would never return the feeling. There was no world where you would be bleeding out for him, only because of him. 

The second revelation comes a bit later in the night.

Closer to midnight, hours after the fight, when Eddie finds himself alone as per usual. He stumbles to his usual bar, thankful for the late hours, fully prepared to get so fucking wasted he can’t remember his own name. He’d wish to not remember your face, especially when he had spewed such hateful intent your way, but he knows there’s not a single brand or amount of whiskey out there that can cleanse him of that. Your name is just another ghost to add to the lineup. You’ll haunt him until his dying day. And he deserves that. 

But then, when he walks into the bar, he sees the bartender. 

The same man who had stood you up just the night before. The same man Eddie simply couldn’t understand. He was clearly on a date, a nice girl sat at the table across from him, laughing at every word he said. Eddie remembers their conversation, although a bit hazy. 

“I think you’re onto something, man. Some girls are just… irreplaceable. I’ve got a girl like that of my own – prettiest eyes you’ll ever see, a smile that could cure cancer – and… you know what? I think we should both go for it. Give up on the girls who could never compare.” 

He wants to vomit. The bastard had even poured a round of shots on the house, had fucking cheered with Eddie before throwing back the alcohol with him in the promise of moving onto the girls who matter. 

He had said cheers to discarding you. Brushing off you. To you being one of the girls who could never compare. 

Eddie’s vision goes red, and he knows half of the blame falls on himself. He’d been the reason this asshole stood you up. He had already been the reason for your pain tonight before he’d even said a word to you. His self hatred has never burned so deeply, so viciously.

But you can’t punch yourself. And so instead, Eddie doesn’t hold back when he approaches the table and lands his right knuckles right on the bastard’s cheek bone. Even goes in for a second punch. He would have gotten in a third punch, but the bartender hits back. Not as hard as Eddie, fists fueled by self-defense rather than ravaging guilt and crippling self-hatred, but enough to get deter him until security could gather both men up.

It’s in the alleyway that he has his second revelation. At the hands of the man who had just hurt you. It was like looking in a mirror. Eddie nearly does finally vomit as he leans against the brickwall, security a few paces away, ready to file a police report. But then, the bastard still manages to somehow be better than Eddie, throwing up a hand to stop them from dialing for the cops. 

“Don’t,” is all he says, leveling a stare when Eddie’s eyes fill with tears.

“Really?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow, pushing his luck. He needs someone to punish him. He needs to be thrown in a cell for the night, to be treated as the degenerate he truly was, “I just rearranged your fucking face and-”

“Why’d you punch me?” the bartender spits out some blood, nose crooked, “You- You’re a fucking regular, dude. How’d I piss in your cheerios?” 

Eddie’s feeling vulnerable. All his actual feelings boiling and burning in the back of his throat, begging to be released. He doesn’t need a drop of whiskey this time to be honest. 

“The girl,” Eddie rasps, tears threatening to spill as he pictures your face again, “I told you about the girl. The one no one else compared to.” 

The bartender’s eyes widen, “Jesus, fuc- are you telling me that we were talking about the same fucking girl? I- Vanessa told me she wasn’t seeing anyone else, I can’t believe she fucking lie-”

“Not her,” Fuck Vanessa, Eddie thinks bitterly, almost laughing. He has no right to say his next words, but he does, and they cause a pain worse than even the most nightmarish hangovers he’s ever experienced, “My girl is the one you stood up for her.”

You weren’t his girl. You never would be his girl. 

The bartender only looks more confused, and Eddie’s anger flares a bit more at the thought of him talking to more girls beyond you. The man before him had had everything Eddie wanted: he had had you. And just like Eddie, he had fucked it all up. It was easy to misdirect his anger in the moment. 

He says your name out loud, a searing iron in his throat that makes it come out garbled and strangled. Some recognition falls upon the man’s face. 

“Oh… her.” 

Eddie doesn’t hold back, “Her? That’s all you have to fucking say? You stood her up, you fucking- Jesus Christ, go burn in Hell,” He’s being irrational. He doesn’t care, “Call the cops on me. Tell them to let me rot in a fucking cell. I deserve it – but so do you. That girl… that… her. She’s one in a fucking million, she’s a thousand times better than whatever girl you have waiting on you inside, and you couldn’t see that. You’re a goddamn dick.” 

No one makes the move for the call. The bartender just shakes his head again, being far too patient. Eddie opens his mouth, ready to scream now as he demands they punish him. Make him pay for his crimes. Not just the punches, but everything he had broken tonight.

He broke you tonight. He deserves to burn in Hell far more than the man before him. 

“I knew you were in love with her, but-”

Eddie cuts him off, “I’m not in love with her.”

He hates the look he receives. It’s the same pity that Nancy now looks at him with. That same hidden judgment, like everyone else knows something that he doesn’t. 

“You may hate to hear it,” the bartender is choosing his words very carefully as he swipes in a contrasting carelessness at the blood pouring out of one of his nostrils, “But you don’t throw punches like that for a girl you’re not in love with. So I suggest you mind your business, and if she is as valuable as you keep going on about, you tell her rather than punching the dude he just serves you fucking alcohol.” 

He doesn’t even have to close his eyes to see you anymore. The image of you is clear as day, even with his eyes open. You, broken and vulnerable and full of hatred for him. Just as he had intended. 

Success tastes metallic and bitter. Eddie finally empties what little he had in his stomach onto that concrete alleyway.

He doesn’t leave the wall. Not when the bartender goes back inside with one of the bar’s bouncers, not when the remaining bouncer eyes him and nervously steps forward, not when they return with a paper declaring him banned from the bar. 

He can’t move. All he sees is you. He hasn’t drank more than that one pitiful swig of beer at Steve’s, but he feels like his world has gone incoherent all the same. 

He fucked up. 

He crinkles that piece of paper harshly once he’s properly left alone in the alleyway, angry enough that it tears a bit from his force. It doesn’t phase him; he didn’t intend on returning anyways. He carries it with him the entire way home, regardless, rolls it between his palms until it’s gone soft with the sweat of his hands. 

It’s for the better. He fucked up, but it’s for the better. 

He tosses the wadded ball into the trash when he gets home. Goes through the numb motions of taking off his shoes, tossing his jacket on the counter rather than the hook he’d put up for it, and leaves his bike’s keys beside it. Eventually, he makes his way to the bathroom, brushing his teeth but never once glancing up in the mirror. As a matter of fact, he avoided every single reflective surface in his apartment that night. 

He still sees your face, broken and teary, as he turns off his bedroom light and lays on his mattress that night. It doesn’t matter how many times he repeats it to himself, reminds himself over and over, the mantra of it being for the better doesn’t work. It can’t break through. All because of a pathetic revelation.

Eddie learns that night that he is, in fact, in love with you. And it doesn’t matter, because you hate his fucking guts, just as he had intended. 

—

You don’t make a single move once Eddie breathlessly finishes his explanation. Not even to breathe. 

He’s been in love with you since that night at Steve’s. 

You’d known that he had punched the bartender that night. You’d known that he had been banned from his usual bar that night. But you hadn’t known the entire truth. You couldn’t have ever imagined it, ever pieced it together, until now. 

And you don’t know if that speaks more on you and how dense you’ve been this entire time, or on Eddie and how dishonest he’s been this entire time. 

“God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.”

It suddenly makes sense. At a sickening and sudden pace, it clicks into place. 

“Eddie, I-” 

“Don’t,” he stops you, looking you directly in your eyes. You nearly shrink under his attention. Your fury is gone; you just feel empty, “You… You don’t need to say it back. You don’t need to say anything – the bet’s off. I’m not being honest to stop you from leaving,” he admits, every single wall crumbling at both of your feet, “I’m just being honest because you deserve it. I should have told you that night. I should- I actually should have never done any of this. Any of it.” 

You remember the girl you once were. In a bar, surrounded by strangers and new friends, with tunnel vision for the boy in front of you. You remember that feeling of coming home, the way you ached for him to let you in and had been fooled for one night that it was possible. 

A year later, and he was letting you in, too late. 

“Why?” your voice cracks. You should just pick up your bag and go, but you can’t. Not until you stick the final stitches into the wound, seal up this hurt once and for all. For you and for Eddie. “Why would you… Why would you do that? Why would you set out to make me hate you?” 

“Because I didn’t deserve you,” he says it like a simple fact, like it doesn’t shatter you apart, “Because I knew if I didn’t create the rift and kept letting you in, I’d fall in love with you. At first, I thought I needed you to hate me to prevent it. Figured you’d be stronger than me about it. If I made you hate me, I was… Honestly, I was saving myself. I’d tell myself it was about saving you, but it wasn’t. I was being fucking selfish.”

You nod silently, swallowing down tears. Tears for what could have been, tears for what you still want so badly that it aches. 

“All because of Steve making…” you trail off, head trying to wrap around all the honesty he had just presented you with, “Making some off-handed, drunk comment.” 

It was Eddie’s turn to silently nod. To swallow hard and flutter his eyes shut so you couldn’t see the hurt lit within them. 

“You said you hated me,” you’re thinking out loud more than you’re properly speaking to him at this point, voice broken and soft, hands fighting the urge to reach out for him. Even after it all. Every reminder of what he had done for you, and now having the pitiful reason behind it all, still couldn’t break what had formed here tonight. Everything has still changed for you, “When I said everything changes, I meant the hate – I didn’t want to hate you anymore.” 

“I know,” he bites his lip, as if he’s trying to hold back any careless words. Words that might hurt you, but not for the same reasons as they used to, “That’s why… not much has changed. I never hated you. God knows I wanted to. I told myself I had to hate you, because if I didn’t hate you, I’d love you. And I couldn’t do that again – I couldn’t handle falling in love with someone I couldn’t have. I knew I wouldn’t survive loving you when you’d never love me back. It wouldn’t be fair… to either of us.” 

“But you did it anyway,” you almost laugh at the awfulness of it all, terribly irony stacking up between you, “You fell in love with me, you said it yourself. You… you loved me.”

“Love,” he corrects, eyes now wide open, “I love you. It’s not- It’s not some feeling in the past tense. You should still hate me, because I still love you.” 

He’s right, you finally realize. You should hate him for all of this. 

“And all of this counted on the first part of your plan working,” he has to take a step closer, whether it be subconscious or due to how low your voice has dropped. The physical distance erased aches. Splinters each of your bones and all of your emotions, “Which you never even asked me if it worked, even now. You just assumed.” 

He takes a deep, brave breath before he quietly asks you, “Did it work?”

You both already know the answer now, “No.”

But it changes nothing. You know that, he knows that. It’s just as he said – the point of saying it out loud no longer has anything to do with repairing what’s been damaged just tonight. You’re both being honest only because you both deserve it. You both deserve to finally close this tomb. 

You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to close it, though. Not truly. Not properly. 

“I can’t stay,” you whisper, “I still… I still need to leave.” 

Especially now. 

“I know you do,” he responds. He’s gentle, understanding. 

It doesn’t stop the tear you see break from his lower lashes. He doesn’t draw any attention to it, doesn’t so much as move to clear it from his cheek. As if he’s scared if he does, you’ll notice it if you hadn’t already.

“The bet’s still off,” you continue, unable to meet his gaze as you pick up your bag once more. 

“I know it is.” 

He doesn’t try to stop you this time. And part of you, this time, wishes he would have as you slip back out the front door of apartment 2C and let the door shut with a quiet click behind you.

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[ponderingmoonlight]

Keep doing it

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,3k

Synopsis: Satoru loves coming to your office everyday to finally win your heart. But it seems like you're more subborn than he thinks.

Warnings: language, a little bit of spice

„Fuck, you’re so annoying. What are you doing here Satoru?”

The smoke of your cigarette swirls around your frames and blocks his view of your lovely figure for a brief moment. It was almost a ritual now that Gojo Satoru would show up at your office at least once a day to sit cross-legged in the chair in front of your desk. Today is just another day of you knowing exactly why he’s here. It’s driving you insane to be honest. How many time have you told that dumbass you’re not interested in him, especially not a senseless affair? You’re a businesswoman after all. Your business is booming, the money is flowing, your reputation precedes you. You know full well that he only wants you as a trophy. Oh, but you are way more than that.

 “Why are you so cold, (y/n)? My offer is always fair, a businesswoman like you should know that.”

“Gojo”, you sign.

You sink into your chair and press your fingers on your temple. That man surely gives you a headache.

“Fucking with you because ‘you are the best’ is probably the worst offer I ever received. If you’re not here to make me a serious proposal, I’m sure you know where to find the door. Maybe I should lock the entrance in the future.”

“No door in the world can keep me from you, lovely (y/n). Also, you are making money off innocent souls who will give you loads of cash for you to cast out their curses. Your skills would be better off with the jujutsu academy. You’d be a great teacher by my side”, he casually blurts out while sliding his glasses down his nose just enough so you can catch a glimpse of his hypnotizing gaze.

You can’t help but let out a pejorative laugh. Gojo’s heart almost skips a beat when your delightful curves get up from your chair and you bend over your desk, your lovable face just inches away from his indigent lips. Oh, how many times he imagined this lovely sight, the only thing missing is his frame behind you and his hands gripping your hair firmly.

“Stop being so boring and beating yourself up as a preacher, your poor students have my heart. You as a teacher is probably the nastiest thing I could ever imagine, let along working with you. Also, when it comes to women, you are probably the worst man walking on this earth. I know exactly why you are wearing glasses at the moment, Satoru. I am not one of your cheap bitches, remember that.”

“And that’s exactly the reason why I won’t let go, sweetheart.”

“Oh Gojo”, you breathe out, grabbing his neck softly while pulling him a little closer to your face.

Although you can feel the stinging sensation between your legs, you keep your cool. You know full well that he only wants to wrap you around his finger on principle. Gojo Satoru, the man that turns female heads on a regular basis, the heartthrob, the woman eater. And even if his fine-looking sight makes you curious too, you don’t want to give in. But that surely doesn’t mean that you can’t toy with him a little, too.

“I will never be yours. Mark my words”, you purr against his mouth.

Before he has the chance to close the aching gap between your lips, you push his chin away harshly and straighten up your figure again.

“I’m not gonna lie, you truly are a temptation. I would die to know if you live up to your reputation. But you’re just not worth my time and energy.”

The way you toss your hair back and spread your sweet scent around the room almost drives him insane. Damn, you truly are something else, so different from all the women he normally wraps around his finger with just one look in his magnificent eyes. But that’s exactly what makes you attractive, a pleasant challenge.

“I could convince you otherwise. Give me a minute.”                                                                

Before you can react further, you feel the heat of his big frame behind you, his fingertips just inches away from your bare skin. For a brief moment, you can’t help but close your eyes, let yourself enjoy this sweet instant for a while. Gojo is a giant man, taller than you by one and a half head, to be exact. His arms could swallow you whole. How good it must feel to press your body against his, to feel his bare skin ghost against your own.  

“Please, let me touch you”, he breathes against your outer ear.

A shiver runs down your spine before you can stop it.

“Since when do you ask for anything, Satoru?”

“I’ll keep asking about you until you finally let me in”, he mumbles intensely.

A small smile creeps around your full lips, you can’t help but tilt your head to the side just enough to catch a glimpse at his handsome face. He looks unusual flustered.

“I can’t help it, you’re just fun to mess with.”

A swift motion is enough for you to now face him fully. You have to raise your head entirely in order to get lost in his eyes again. He looks so damn fine. Instinctively, you catch your bottom lip between your teeth in excitement.

“Stop biting your damn lip like that when you really wanna reject me. You’ve been driving me crazy since the first time I saw you at that crime scene. I can clearly see and feel that you want me too, (y/n). Why are you rejecting me?”

You tilt your head to the side while your fingers trace along the buttons on his uniform.

“I like men in uniform. This one brings out your eyes perfectly”, you mumble playfully.

“I bet you’d like it more when I take it off for you”, he purrs along with a breathtaking smile.

“That’s absolutely true.”

A triumphant smile plays across his face as his lips are just a touch away from yours. You’ve thought about this moments so many times. Whenever other men try to please you, you imagine what it might feel like to have him laying on top of you, his lips caressing your body, leaving marks all over your sensitive skin. His hands must feel good holding onto your hips tightly or when they grab your neck in order to press your lips closer to his. Just a little taste of him.

But your pride can’t allow it.

“Now, get the fuck out of here. I’m waiting for a better offer”, you hush with the usual firm voice and arrogant smile.

You break away from him and drop into your chair to light a cigarette. Gojo’s heart still races drowned in adrenalin. He hasn’t felt this alive in a long time, apparently you are the only worthy opponent for him. A little giggle escapes his lips before he can stop it.

“What are you smiling about, idiot?”

“Eventually you will say yes. And until then, I’ll walk in here every fine day and annoy you, sweetheart. I’ve never experienced so much resistance from a woman before.”

“Well, apparently it’s time for your little wings to be clipped, Mr. woman connoisseur. And now get lost, I expect a customer in a few minutes and you’re stealing my clientele with your free offers”, with a swift motion of your hand you dismiss him from your office, your heart still beating fast within your chest while a wave of disappointment crushes over your body.

“Your body betrays you. I’ll be back, (y/n).”

“Do what you can’t help”, you reply dryly.

Your hands dig into the tender fresh of your tights at the thought of it. God, please keep doing it, for fuck’s sake.

[jester-lover]

do you have to let it linger?

Dorm leaders and their greatest insecurities in a relationship (part 2 with some fluff)

cw- angst, de@ th, image issues, slight hurt/comfort, just a lot of sadness gn! Reader

Riddle

With his temper, and his need for justice, Riddle is feared amongst his fellow students

His insecurities in your relationship largely revolve around his inability to understand calmness and his lawful nature

Riddle fears that one day, one horrible day, you will find someone more easygoing, who won’t live with such stern rules

He fears that you will deem him a tyrant, someone who holds you back from your future potential, someone who holds you back from having fun in your youth

Riddle is scared of you fearing him.

Riddle is scared of you hating him.

Leona

Growing up, Leona was always a afterthought

His most important moments have been diminished for his brother’s, he just wants someone who puts him on top

But deep down, Leona knows his achievements are mediocre compared to the brilliant, energetic minds around him

Leona knows he will never be at the top of anything, including your priorities

He clings to you when you’re alone together, wondering if you would prefer a more lively person

Leona knows you don’t deserve to be married to a second-best prince, you are the light in his eyes and the breath in his throat

Leona knows he needs you, he doubts that you need him.

Azul

Azul keeps his eyes on every mirror he can find, looking for any irregularities or marks

If he finds one, he feels dread fill his stomach, as he desperately tries to hide away any imperfections from you

Azul is a deeply complex young man, he cares a lot about his appearance, and controlling those around him

He has fears of abandonment that run deep, so he tries to keep himself ‘perfect’ in your eyes

But when those cracks slip open, the scared little boy who hides inside of him is open for you to see

Kalim

Kalim throws wealth around like it’s nothing almost every single day

He has such little respect for savings or otherwise, and he often gets comments about being ‘out of touch’

He often fears that one day you’ll get bored of him and drop him

He tries his best to relate to you, but at some point he’ll have to realize how privileged he is compared to the common person

Vil

Vil can be critical of practically everything, including you on the occasion

He fears being second best, and he fears you seeing him as such

He has this inferiority complex around other beautiful people, and he is desperately afraid that one day, you will simply find someone more beautiful

Vil keeps himself set to a high standard of beauty, knowing that it’s one of his only advantages in your relationship

Idia

Idia truly can’t understand why you would want to be with him, a greasy nobody who sits in his room all day

No matter what positive traits you show him about himself, his underlying feelings of unworthiness will always be there

Idia disassociates for long periods, just thinking about what he’ll do once you finally understand your worth and leave him behind

Malleus

Malleus is so excited to have a partner, but there is always a sense of urgency to your relationship

Malleus will live forever, and you will live for a fraction of that time

He tries not to dwell on it, but in the late hours of the night, when he’s walking beside you as you ramble on, he can’t help but think about how fragile you are

His heart sinks.

All malleus can imagine for a brief moment is the passage of time, how quickly you will grow grey hair and wrinkles on your face, and how quickly you will slip away from him

Sebek

Sebek has struggled with his sense of self for a while, he’s caught in the middle of two very different identities

His loud boisterous nature has caused people to stay away from him, except for you

He fears that one day, you will also see him as annoying or rude, when he’s stuck trying to dissect his human identity alongside his fae one

Sebek is most afraid that you will see him as a weak minded young man, unable to decide what his role is, even if that’s the least of your concerns

I added my favorite boy as a bonus, also I’m sorry for the Kalim part, he’s literally so chill idk what he’s be insecure about. I’ll most definitely be working on a sequel to this.

[chiqelatasblog]

CHAPTER FIVE : I don’t want to know more about you. (But I want to…)

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Chapter Four link is here.

Pairing : Sub-Zero / Bi-Han x Reader

Summary : Nearly a month has passed since you first joined the Lin Kuei, and as you spend time with Bi-Han, you started to realize some things about him and also about yourself.

.

.

.

15 years ago…

“May I join you too?”

It had been a few months since you turned eight, and there were a few other kids close to your age in the clan. When you weren’t undergoing martial arts training, you still attended noble womanly pursuits, as deemed by your father. The time you could spend by yourself was so limited that, at times fatigue seemed to permeate every moment.

Fortunately, there was an exception today. Your teacher, responsible for teaching etiquette, fell ill. Upon discovering that your afternoon would be unoccupied, you pondered how to fill the empty space. The last time you had such wide-open time, the wound in your throat had yet to heal. You spent those days in your room, drawing pictures, reading books your mother brought you, and indulging in the very activity your father despised the most: daydreaming.

Your father was a man who was firmly attached to a sense of reality. He was an idealist, he believed in reality, not dreams. He always talked about how daydreaming distorts the perception of reality, disconnects from goals and leads to the wrong path, so he never wanted any of his children to dream.

However, since your powers were discovered, you were left alone and as you relied more on your umbrakinesis, this isolation also fueled your imagination. Reality often brought pain, while in your own dream world, you felt safer and happier. No one could harm you there, everything followed your control and will.

But since your father changed his mind and decided that you should take martial art training with the others, you haven’t even had time to think properly, let alone dream. The moment your head touched the pillow, you were falling into a deep sleep. You couldn’t even have your nightmares as usual because of the fatigue. The rigorous training left you so physically exhausted that not even your subconscious could conjure the haunting visions that usually plagued your sleep.

It had been two and a half years since the wound on your throat had healed. Given the intense pace of the past two and a half years, it was quite normal for you to feel stunned now, unsure of what to do.

As three children argued about who should be the next “it,” all turned their heads, looking at you with distant eyes when you posed the question.

Unsettled by the prolonged silence, you attempted to ease the tension with a friendly smile. Being the grandmaster’s daughter had always created a distance between you and others in the clan. Here was no exception.

“I suppose you’re playing hide and seek. I really like this game!” you exclaimed cheerfully. The tallest boy among them—Wang, you recalled—squinted his eyes suspiciously and crossed his arms.

“Wherever the shadows touch, you will find us immediately. How do we know if you’re going to cheat or not?” he questioned.

“Yes!” added another. “We can’t trust you!’’

Panic immediately entered your voice.

‘’No, no! I wouldn’t do that. I promise you! My mother has always advised me to be on the side of honesty.”

As the silence lingered once again, a familiar sense of discomfort and exclusion enveloped you. When would you truly become a part of the clan? The first time you vocalized this thought to your mother, she grew angry, instructing you to banish such ideas. In her eyes, you already held a respectable place as the grandmaster’s daughter. Yet, both of you acknowledged the truth—the assassination attempt being the clearest example.

“Let’s let her play the first round. If we see you cheating, you can’t play with us, okay?” the last boy spoke, taking charge in a way that indicated he was the leader of this small group.

The chance given to you filled your heart with excitement and happiness, a broad smile adorning your face. It felt unexpectedly easy. In the past, with your brothers you’d beg to be part of the game, enduring insults, hair-pulling, and tripping that left you bleeding. However, you had outgrown such pleas, tired of the mistreatment.

“All right! Shall I start counting?” you said, eager to begin.

“Put your face against that oak tree,” the leader directed, pointing to the sizable trunk nearby. “We can’t afford for you to peek.”

Nodding eagerly, you placed your hands against the rough bark of the tree, burying your head between them. Your cheeks turned a rosy hue with anticipation as you felt the rough texture beneath your fingers.

“Count to thirty!”

As you counted aloud, the distant echoes of footsteps retreated on the dew-kissed grass. When you reached thirty, you excitedly turned around, carefully observing the surroundings. Despite the bright weather and the sun overhead, the residual chill in the air left it a bit muddy, marking the arrival of spring.

Moving forward with small, cautious steps, you searched every bush, tree, and nook and cranny in your field of vision, being careful not to make too much noise and disturb the serene atmosphere.

“(y/n), what are you doing?”

At the unexpected sound of your father’s deep, resonant voice you froze in place. Fear misfired through your heart, giving you the strength to turn around and face him. He stood a little away, observing you with his usual cold gaze. Although accustomed to that look, his power over you was evident. Your father’s imposing presence always scared you, making you nervous and timid.

It seemed the only way to please him was to stand next to him, as if you were a trinket without breathing.

“I-I was playing hide and seek.” you said in a voice that was barely audible. When your father’s eyebrows furrowed against your answer, it felt like your heart might stop beating right there.

“What happened to today’s lesson?” As your father approached, his presence seemed to crush the world around you. Unable to answer, your lower jaw trembled with fear, and your tongue felt heavy inside your mouth. His dominant presence often did more than physical force.

He never raised a hand to you, but his words were as sharp as a knife, and his heavy, dominating aura weighed on you. When he stood right on top of you, you tilted your head back, trying not to tremble under his imposing size. Showing fear was another thing he detested, a sign of weakness.

“I asked you a question, girl.”

“I found out that Mrs. Cheng has contracted pneumonia. When there was no lesson, I thought-”

“What did you think?” your father interjected. Although his voice sounded calm, the underlying rage made you tremble. “How many times do I have to repeat this to get it into that thick little head of yours; you don’t have time for this kind of nonsense. You’re not anyone’s daughter. Don’t embarrass me and our clan any more and go back to your studies.”

While your father practically pinned you with his eyes, the rustling bushes behind you revealed the children who were hiding. As your father humiliated you in front of them, your cheeks flushed with shame, and your eyes shone with tears that you resisted not to shed. Clenching your small fists, you bowed your head to hide your tears.

“Very well, sir.” you muttered in a bitter voice.

With a sigh, your father said, “Fall in front of me.” Obliged to obey, you started walking along the path to the temple. Though you felt the children’s eyes watching you and heard their whispers, you avoided looking at them due to your shame.

As the temple came into view, you saw your older and middle brothers, one year apart, laughing and pointing fingers at you. The pain in your heart surged, and you made a great effort not to cry. The distance with your brothers and the clan seemed insurmountable. Even if you managed to get closer, somehow they were still moving away from you. Swallowing hard, you swore at that very moment.

You were going to prove yourself to everyone in the clan, especially your father.

No matter what happens.

Today…

You were nervous.

It was the first letter you were going to send to your brother since you came to Lin Kuei. In the letter, you didn’t mention being poisoned and almost coming back from death. The first reason for this was to prevent your brother from starting a war when you had not yet gathered useful information. The second reason was that you didn’t want him to humiliate you for not noticing the poison.

So, without touching on the subject at the moment, you talked about your new life here and the closeness you had begun to establish with the clan members. Especially with Bi-Han, you started to communicate even if it was a little. Your conversations usually revolved around the books he brought you from his mother’s library, which you were forbidden to enter. Surprisingly, Bi-Han had read most of them, maintaining a secretive attitude but not holding back from making a few comments.

He was busy, spending almost all of his day taking care of the affairs of his clan. Even if you only saw him at meals, it made it difficult to further the small communication you had established with him.

Aside from that, it was much easier for you to get along with the others compared to Bi-Han. The only exception was Frost. The woman was as inaccessible as an ice castle, vowing not to talk to you. She was ranked in the top five among the most talented and successful warriors in the clan, and having her assigned as your bodyguard frustrated both her and you. You tried to initiate a dialogue with her more than once to make it feel less like a duty, but the constant surveillance was starting to infuriate you. As long as this situation continued, gathering information about Lin Kuei would be challenging.

Everything you’d learned so far was superficial. Forbidden from entering the archive, the only way to go unnoticed was to use your powers. To do this, you had to create the appropriate moment, but doubts lingered. Ninjas patrolling and Bi-Han lingered into the late hours of the night. A few nights ago, you observed Cyrax walking around with other ninjas.

After adding the last lines to your letter, you created a crow out of the shadows. The only shining place on the crow, standing in a black state, was its beady eyes, having the same eye color as yours. Stroking the crow’s head and under its chin, you inhaled deeply.

You could already anticipate the response your brother would send, filled with humiliation and pressure to accelerate your progress. But Bi-Han was a unique individual, different from anyone you knew, carrying a bit of each of them but forming a distinct persona.

He was bound by traditions, his clan was more important to him than anything else, maybe even more than himself. Perhaps the woman who poisoned you was genuinely innocent, but even that couldn’t be fully proven. Bi-Han considered eliminating her a reasonable option. Whether he liked it or not, you were his wife now, and you represented Lin Kuei. Everything done to you was directly related to him.

This fact bothered you more than the invasion of your privacy in recent days. You accepted this mission knowing the consequences, but facing the truth turned out differently than you hoped. On the other hand, your mother had always instilled in you from childhood that there is hope in every despair. Maybe it was a sign for you to look at ways to turn this situation in your favor. If you could find a way to take the reins into your own hands, who knows, maybe you could even change the course.

Folding the letter you had written, you stamped your seal on it and handed it to the crow’s beak to carry. Then, with a graceful movement of the wrist, you created a portal in the middle of the room, again from the shadows, commanding the crow with a nod to pass into it.

The crow quietly passed right through the portal after a few flaps of its wings and disappeared out of sight, and the portal disappeared on its own right behind him with its departure.

You stood up with another deep breath. It was about to come to dinner, and when you left your room to go to the table before the others, two ninjas waiting outside the door moved with you.

Since you learned about the temple’s layout, it took you only a few minutes to find the dining room now. When you got to the room, one of the ninjas opened the sliding door for you, and after you entered, they waited outside the room, closing the door behind you.

When you noticed Sektor inside, except for you, you said, ‘‘Good evening.’’ Sektor responded in the same way by making a small greeting with his head.

‘’You’re early today.’’

‘’I’m going on a mission to America tomorrow. That’s why I finished my work early,’’ said Sektor, collapsing into his usual chair. And when you took your place at the head of the table next to Bi-Han, you took a small sip of the water placed in the glass in front of you.

After what happened, you hesitated once or twice about touching something to your mouth, but after seeing the protection provided to you and the precautions taken, this hesitation disappeared in a very short time.

While the water refreshed you and slowly calmed the tension you were feeling because of the letter, you quietly studied Sektor. He had a strong physique like every other warrior in the clan. His long black hair was always massed in a tight ponytail, and his beard was neatly shaved.

You had limited information about him. He wasn’t much of a talker compared to the others; he had a tough stance and judgmental looks, much like Bi-Han. You had heard how fast and ruthless he was when fighting while the members around him were talking among themselves. One of the people Bi-Han trusted the most was Sektor, without a doubt.

‘’How do you feel? You seem to have recovered quite a bit since the last time I saw you.’’

“I am being well taken care of, thank you,” you said with a smile that you hoped seemed convincing. Although most of the clan still viewed you as an outsider, an extension of the enemy clan, you couldn’t ignore the care shown for your health and safety.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

‘’Do you think that woman was innocent?’’ you asked at once.

“What made you think of that question?” Sektor raised one of his black eyebrows, looking at you with a questioning expression. You took another sip of your water before answering, keeping your gaze expressionless.

“Tomas was with me that day, and the woman told him that if he wanted to drink tea, she could bring a cup. I honestly don’t think she would have made such an offer if she had known that there really was poison in it. I may be a stranger to you, but Tomas is one of you, and on top of that, Bi-Han’s brother.’’

‘’You are also his wife,’’ Sektor said, voicing the simple truth.

‘’Yes, but many of you have not yet been able to accept this fact.’’

“Ginger has a pungent smell, a logical material that can be used to make it difficult for you to choose the poison.’’

‘’Still, I really don’t think she’s the one who planned this. Is it right that it was decided to kill her before this was clarified?’’

Sektor, leaning back in his chair, drew a breath so loud that you could hear it. He put his own glass between his fingers, looking into the it with thoughtful eyes.

‘’Our clan is strictly bound by traditions, so the punishments used to be heavier. As a penalty for certain crimes, not only the person but also their entire family was sentenced to death along with them. In the event of an assassination attempt against you, it does not matter whether this person is innocent or not; the fact that they took part in this act is considered quite sufficient reason for their murder.’’ He went on, taking a sip of his water just like you.

‘‘My respect and loyalty to Bi-Han are absolute. After the death of his father, he made great innovations to move the clan forward. But sometimes he can succumb to his anger, and at those moments, even if we try to give him common sense as council members, he won’t hear anyone. It is impossible to change his mind when he makes a decision.’’

‘’Then what does it matter to the council if he is doing what he knows in the end?’’

From the way you asked the question, it was clear that you were really curious about the answer and trying to decipher the dynamic between them. A small smile appeared on Sektor’s face.

“Bi-Han can get angry easily, but he knows his responsibilities better than anyone. He is very strong-willed to fulfill them. Exceptions do not break the pedestal.’’

‘’So you’re saying that under all his scary appearance, he’s reasonable as long as we don’t touch a sore point?’’

‘’Isn’t it just like everybody?’’ Sektor said, the smile on his face widening a little more. ‘’I’m going to tell you a secret, like you, I think the woman is innocent. She doesn’t know who’s behind this.’’ When he said these things, he had made his voice too quiet for those outside to hear. You asked curiously.

‘‘How can you speak so confidently?’’

‘’I was present during the interrogation, and it became evident from the woman’s body language and speech that she had no knowledge of the situation.’’

‘‘And what is the secret part of it?’’

‘’The woman is alive.” Sektor left the glass in his hand on the table, leaned his chin on his clasped hands, and while he continued to talk to you without breaking eye contact, he maintained a dominant presence that held your attention.

‘’How so? Did you disobey Bi-Han’s orders?’’

‘’Partly. To be more precise, I can say I saved the life of an innocent person by taking her away from here.’’

’‘Oh.’’ You sat back, not knowing what to say. ‘’And why did you share this with me? You don’t even trust me.’’

‘’True, but I want to try. After all, you are part of this clan. Trust won’t build on its own, and I believe we need to start somewhere for this.’’

‘’So you’re extending an olive branch, are you?’’

As footsteps, signaling the arrival of others, began echoing in the corridor, Sektor muttered his final words before the doors swung open.

“There is no war between you and me, (y/n). It is true that you are a foreigner, but it is entirely up to you to change this fact.’’

As soon as Sektor concluded his words, the grand doors on both sides of the room swung open wide, revealing the entrance of the clan members. In particular, Bi-Han and the others streamed in with an air of authority. Simultaneously, a dozen helpers, deftly carrying trays of steaming, delectable dishes, entered through the opposite door.

The delicious smell of the feast filled the room, making you more aware of the tempting dishes arranged on the table. As the culinary delights were displayed, your hunger in contrast to the stress you’ve felt since composing a letter in your room, became more noticeable.

While quietly calculating which dish to choose first, you caught Bi-Han’s questioning gaze. He sat down on the chair next to you and asked in his usual cold, deep voice.

‘’What are you doing?’’

Although your cheeks turned pink due to the slight embarrassment of being caught, you didn’t let yourself down. You gently cleared your throat and threw your hair over your shoulder.

‘’They all look perfect. I was trying to decide which one to start first, but I’m having a hard time.’’

Tomas chuckled at your response from the other end of the table.

“I advise you to start with sweet-sour pork. The taste is absolutely legendary.’’

‘’You should taste the spring rolls too. I'm sure you'll like it.’’ Suggested Kuai Liang. He offered you a spring roll with chopsticks, surprising you with his gentlemanliness. Such approaches were rare in your own house, leaving you occasionally disoriented.

‘’She has arms, she can reach her own,’’ grumbled Bi-Han as he filled his plate with food, but no one paid much attention.

‘’Guys, you are all misguiding her. What you really need to try is Peking duck,’’ insisted Cyrax, pointing with his chopsticks to the dish he mentioned. Your cheeks warmed under the attention, marking the first time you didn’t feel truly uncomfortable with it. The interest and relevance they showed unexpectedly warmed your heart.

As everyone chatted and filled their plates, Bi-Han subtly added some tofu to yours without anyone noticing. When you stared at him in surprise, he looked ahead, almost pretending he hadn’t done it, assuming a guarded stance as if suggesting you do the same.

With the surprise lingering on your face, you decided to try the tofu first, popping one into your mouth. The taste was spicier and more bitter than expected, making you express your surprise. Bi-Han, despite taking care of his own food, watched your reaction out of the corner of his eye. You carefully wiped your mouth with a napkin, in case anything was smeared.

‘‘It’s quite hot,’’ you admitted. ‘’Very spicy.’’

‘’The dish you’re eating is called Mapo Tofu. Is it never made in your clan?’’ inquired Bi-Han, now fully attentive and curious about your answer.

‘’This kind of food isn’t cooked in our clan because my father doesn’t like spicy dishes. So, I can’t say it’s a taste I’m familiar with. I’m surprised that you like it too, frankly.’’

“Why?” Bi-Han focused on you, curiosity evident on his face. ‘’If you’re going to attribute it to the fact I’m a cryomancer-‘’

‘’But isn’t it surprising?’’ you interrupted with a small chuckle.

“No.’’

‘’The tofu I just ate was as hot as if it had come out of the dragon’s mouth. You can even spray fire with a few of them.’’

‘’That’s because your taste buds aren’t used to it. Also, according to your illogical understanding, then I should be enjoying tasteless and cold dishes that contain no spices.’’

In an attempt to stifle the laughter welling up inside you, you reached for your refilled water glass and took a substantial sip. The ongoing banter, much like the one Bi-Han had criticized a few days ago when he deemed your stargazing childish, mirrored the very judgment he had passed. However, this time, you opted to continue the conversation rather than shutting it down. It marked the lengthiest exchange Bi-Han had engaged in without sarcasm since your arrival.

‘’Yes, all these things you’re counting also align with your character,’’ you affirmed. Despite Bi-Han’s automatic frown, you maintained a calm, friendly tone without yielding. “Although, on second thought, you’re right; there must be something that feeds your mood. Am I wrong?’’

Before Bi-Han could respond, laughter erupted from Kuai Liang across the table. Tomas, Cyrax, and even Sektor, less overtly, stifled their amusement. Observing their reactions, Bi-Han emitted an irritated growl.

‘‘What the hell are you all looking at? Eat your damn food.’’

A muffled laugh rippled through them, and as Bi-Han exhaled a deep breath of icy smoke, the others refocused on their meals, avoiding further provocation.

The room, adorned with hanging lights casting a warm, soft glow, emanated a tranquil ambiance. A calm conversation filled the space, punctuated by occasional questions that allowed you to participate. Listening to their daily routines and being part of the camaraderie reignited an ache in your heart.

In your own house, women, including yourself and your mother, were barred from active participation in conversations between your father, clan elders and even your siblings. Speaking was deemed great rudeness, and until today, you had adhered to quietly eating your meals and waiting until they concluded. Now, the opposite experience left you offering brief answers, apprehensive of overstepping unfamiliar boundaries.

Fortunately, no one probed into the evasive responses, likely attributing it to lingering shyness. It wasn’t precisely a falsehood, but the unfamiliarity of this environment left you unsure of where the boundaries started and ended, instilling a fear of making mistakes.

‘‘(y/n),’’ Bi-Han’s hoarse voice interrupted your musings. Meeting his gaze, you wondered about the reason for his summons. ‘’Walk with me a little after you’ve finished your dinner.’’

Choosing not to question the motive, you simply responded, ‘’Of course.’’

Half an hour passed, and when the fruit service concluded, Sektor rose first from the table. Cyrax followed about ten minutes later, prompting Bi-Han to stand and signal for you to do the same with a nod. As you left the room after exchanging a ‘goodnight’ with a smile, the two remaining brothers glanced at you with curiosity and questioning expressions.

One of the two ninjas tasked with protecting you handed you a coat as you walked out the door. Surprised by this, Bi-Han caught the expression on your face while you quietly put on the coat that was handed to you and explained.

‘’I asked for the coat to be brought. It’s colder outside than last night.’’

‘’I thought you couldn’t feel the cold.’’

‘’It is so.’’ Bi-Han said simply. The fact that he did not take his intense gaze off you for a moment while saying this did something strange to your heart. You felt the cold like everyone else, but you were trained to be resilient to all kinds of bad conditions and negativity. Although you could tolerate the bitter cold up to a point, there was no need for Bi-Han not to know this fact. And you also liked the unexpected gesture, no matter how much you wanted to deny it.

Fortunately, Bi-Han quickly returned to his usual arrogant mood, making it easier for you to get rid of unwanted feelings.

“After all, birds can’t survive in winter.’’

‘’I’m sure there are a few survival tricks in them that they know.’’ You said, lifting your chin slightly to get a better view of him. Bi-Han’s eyes narrowed in a way that showed he was having fun.

‘‘We’ll see about that.’’

Bi-Han, walking in front, led you from the back terrace into the garden. The cold evening air took away all the warmth from your face, which was warmed inside. The air was fresh and the sky was clear. Since there were not many people walking around, it was calm and quiet. When you arrived almost running to catch up with Bi-Han’s wide steps, you curiously expressed the question you wanted to ask all along.

‘‘Why did you call me over?’’

‘’To talk.’’

‘’To talk?’’

‘’Do you want me to spell it out for you to understand, too?’’

You frowned at his sarcastic reply.

‘‘You could have talked to me at the table, too.’’

During your argument, when Bi-Han slowed down his steps so that you could catch up with him, you started walking next to him. A few seconds passed, and when you realized that Bi-Han would not answer you with a prolonged silence, you sighed, ‘’What do you want to talk about?’’ You asked.

With the question, Bi-Han’s hard, illegible gaze found yours.

‘‘About your family.’’ His brown eyes, very dark in the moonlight, went down to the scar hidden by your turtleneck sweater. Even though he couldn’t see it, you moved restlessly where you were, because it bothered you that he knew where the scar was. ‘‘And your past.’’ Bi-Han said after a while.

“And why should I do that? There is no reason for me to open my private life to you.”

“You are my wife, so it is important that I know everything about you.”

“Oh, really? Then how about it being mutual, grandmaster?” You used a sarcastic tone against him, echoing the attitude he displayed towards you a little while ago. “If you want to exchange information, you should also reveal something about yourself. It can’t be one-sided.”

“You know I wouldn’t do that.” Bi-Han stopped walking. While you couldn’t discern exact anger, his tone hinted at displeasure with the conversation’s direction. It made you smile at least he was beginning to understand that you wouldn’t comply with everything he said.

“Then you may suppose that this conversation is over.” You stated it in a polite but clear tone. Without waiting for Bi-Han to resume walking, you heard him talking behind you as you started walking ahead.

“What do you want to know?”

“There, if you keep on answering like that—wait a minute, what?”

Turning on your heels, you stared with big eyes at Bi-Han, who was standing a little further away, with a confused expression that showed you weren’t sure you had heard correctly.

“What do you want to know?” said Bi-Han calmly, repeating his question. He covered the distance in two big steps, and when he stood in front of you, you tilted your head back slightly and looked at him.

Normally, his hair would have come out of its bun, tufts disheveled and scattered due to the workouts and studies he did during the day. However, at the moment, it caught your attention that it was standing properly, as if he had just collected it. When you caught the smell of soap rising slightly from him, you realized that he had just been washed. He probably should have gone to the hot springs before he came to dinner.

The places where the moonlight touched his face softened his expression with a silvery light, while his shadowed lines were hard and angular. It must have been a cruel trick of fate for such a cold and arrogant man to be blessed with a handsome face.

“Have you always wanted to have this title?” You said, averting your gaze from his eyes, which were surrounded by long black lashes.

“Yes, I’ve been trained for this all my life.”

“It doesn’t seem like an easy life.”

“Success, as I see it, involves the sacrifices we’re willing to make. I grew up knowing that one day, I’d have this title, and I accepted that reality.”

You responded thoughtfully.

“I can imagine it’s a difficult path. Do you believe you make a good leader?”

The unexpected question caught Bi-Han off guard, prompting him to pause and study your face with furrowed brows. As you two continued walking, the snow crunched beneath your steps, your breath visible in the cold air, forming a mist. The temperature dropped further, the chilly air biting at your cheeks and nose.

“Are you making an insinuation?”

“No, I really wonder what you’re thinking.”

Bi-Han’s gaze was aimed at a distant point rather than at you. His face was again darkened with an expression that you could not read.

“I can’t answer that question, but I know what kind of leader I don’t want to be,” he said. His voice was unexpectedly honest. When you were standing in front of a snow-covered bench together, Bi-Han melted the snow with just a hand gesture, leaving it dry enough to sit on.

“My father has always remained closed to innovations throughout his rule of the clan. While technology was advancing every day, he was determined to cling to the traditional ways without adapting to the changes. However, history has shown us that those who do not adapt to innovation are always doomed to extinction. I want to do the right thing for my clan; we have the potential to achieve much more than it seems. Just being content with what is happening will lead to inevitable decline after a while.’’

“I don’t think you will experience such a thing,” you said in a polite voice, picking up where he left off. You were both seated at either end of the bench, with a space between you so decently marked that one person could comfortably enter. “Maybe I’ve been here for about a month, but I can see how much you put your clan at the forefront.”

“What kind of leader do you think I am?”

“Do you want an honest answer or-”

“Honest,” Bi-Han interrupted, not letting you continue your words. “Compared to most people here, you’re not afraid when you talk to me. That’s why I’m curious about your thoughts.”

It was true that you were not afraid because you did not exactly anger him. Unlike a segment that everyone is afraid of seeing and therefore makes sure not to even breathe in the same place as him, you haven’t seen the other side of him yet.

“I would say that you are an ambitious person. You are stubborn and determined, you can stand behind what you believe is right to the end. But at the same time, you are rude and arrogant, you do not allow people to express their own opinions. You intimidate them with fear.”

“I don’t need to hear their thought. I know what’s right better than they do.”

“It’s true that experience makes you different from them, but one of the important features of being a good leader is being able to listen to what others are saying. It’s not just listening, it’s communicating that’s the main thing. Fear is a compulsion, whereas respect is earned.” As your gaze turned to the ornamental pool in the distance, your next words poured from your lips as a whisper. “My father too could never decipher the difference between these two.”

Bi-Han looked at you silently with his chin resting on his clasped hands, leaning his elbows on his legs, which he had spread out from side to side. With this posture, his large, muscular body had shrunk a little, as if he was giving you space to talk more comfortably, trying to make himself look less threatening to you.

‘’What do you mean?’’

“Through fear, you can easily compel someone to obey you, but that person does not willingly open their heart, thoughts, or soul to you. Respect, on the other hand, is the admiration one feels for a person’s qualities, values, and achievements. Being with them gives you strength, they won’t hurt you, and you want to follow them wherever they go. My father was a tough man, and achieving the position of his right-hand man was considered a courageous task. That’s why they were constantly changing like the seasons, as no one wanted to be near him due to fear.’’

While discussing your past without delving into too many details, Bi-Han’s gaze was attentive, as if he was absorbing the most crucial fact of his life. To be more comfortable on the bench, you slightly turned your body to the side, leaning your back against the armrest, bringing your knees close enough to touch each other.

‘’It must have been hard for you.’’ Surprisingly, there was no usual condescending tone in Bi-Han’s voice, instead, it carried sincere understanding—an unexpected development for you.

‘’My mother was my greatest blessing. She was understanding, kind, and caring. In short, she possessed all the characteristics that my father did not have.’’ As your gaze shifted from the ornamental pool to the stars in the sky, your voice trembled with a longing you couldn’t suppress. ‘’I miss her.’’

At that moment, Bi-Han’s knee touched yours. His movement was so slight and imperceptible that, at first, you thought you were imagining it. However, the coolness emanating from him was too realistic to pretend otherwise.

“It seems mothers have always held a different place compared to fathers. My mother was a good person too. She was always a buffer between me and my old man.’’

Against his small consolation, the lump in your throat grew. Why did he start treating you like this? Everything would be easier if he kept acting as he did on the first night you got married. Instead of getting to know him, he should have remained a stranger, all these conversations and tiny gestures should not have happened. You’ve already opened up to even the slightest emotional warmth, and you couldn’t undermine the responsibility you felt towards your mission with your own hands. How would you face your brothers and your clan?

He’s your enemy.

When your brother’s voice hissed inside your mind like a poisonous snake, you quickly composed yourself and straightened your seat.

‘‘Sorry, but I’d better get inside. it’s getting pretty cold. Goodnight, grandmaster. Thank you for this little conversation.’’

Without giving Bi-Han a chance to say anything, you quickly got up from where you were sitting and started walking back towards the temple with brisk steps. All the while, you could feel Bi-Han’s burning gaze on you.

It’s a mission. You said to yourself. Keep your feelings out of your task.

*******

P.S : Their knees touched aaaaaaaaa :3

Tagging @mmeerraa ❤️

[bakubunny]

anything with shoji x bold/confident partner/gf, basically his extrovert half <3 ? no limits love ur layout btw

tysm! i’ve never written shoji, so i hope you like this! :)

♡ bunny

if shoji were to be honest with himself, he was kind of a mess when he met you. usually he’s well composed, especially under pressure, but you made his stomach lurch with the way you smiled so brightly as you approached him.

you flirted hard and made it clear you wanted to get to know him when you asked him out for drinks, but he still fumbled a bit at your direct romantic interest. fans and those who fawned over his body were different, never really catching his attention.

tokoyami saw you two getting together from a mile away, but he kept his mouth shut to watch how things played out. he probably gave shoji a hard time when he saw how flustered you made him.

first date: shoji nearly spilled his drink on himself when you rested a hand on his thigh in an affectionate way. he felt like a fool, wondering why you were still interested, but in truth you found his shy demeanor endearing. it also doesn’t hurt a bit that shoji is a big, strong guy which makes it all the more adorable.

he uses dupli-arms to do silly little things that make you laugh, but it also helps manage the anxiety of being around such a pretty girl he really likes.

i can’t imagine he’s had a ton of partners or experience in bed. you might run into a few hiccups, but overall he’s responsive and watches how you react closely, so he learns pretty fast.

it takes shoji a pretty long time to open up enough to let you see his face, so be patient. once he does, make sure you remind him every now and then that you love how he looks; you know he doesn’t need the mask to be with you, but he might need to hear it.

as long as kissing isn’t a big thing for you (or you don’t mind a few chaste kisses through fabric), he’s probably more comfortable messing around with his mask on rather than off. and if you’re into that sort of thing, it’s only a bonus for you because he looks so damn good with it on.

shoji is a little surprised and kind of relieved when you take the lead in the bedroom. most partners assume from his looks that he’s the one who likes to initiate or have control. he enjoys it, sure, but there’s something about the way you pushed him back onto the bed and kissed your way up his body without hesitation that made him feel weak.

shoji would rather go hard or manhandle you because you tell him to than truly be “in control.” he’s very much a pleaser who loves to see you happy; don’t be surprised if he melts into a puddle under your praise.

let’s just say sex with a man who has dupli-arms for a quirk is interesting. once he’s comfortable he’s very creative in how he uses them, and he loves to see and hear you from all different angles. you can bet he’s got an arm underneath you, watching you make a mess on his cock when he fucks you from behind. and if you’re into double penetration? you’re one lucky girl.

[loveandmurders]

hello buddy ol pal! came here to request some billy loomis or stu macher x fem/gn reader who’s like *super hot* but too ditzy to notice? (cringe i know 🤭) if you can’t write it no worries!

Hello love, thank you for this request! It was a very cute idea actually.

Hope you'll enjoy <3

SO HOT & SO CONFUSED (Billy x female!reader)

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of murders, protective and possessive Billy, mentions of sexual desire, reader is a hot himbo.

You only arrived in Woodsboro two weeks ago, and yet it felt like you had always been there.

You didn’t know how that happened but the most popular people in school instantly brought you to their side, and everyone knew you and treated you kindly. You were invited to every party, you were greeted by everyone and even male teachers seemed to give you better grades.

You thought you had always been lucky in your life, because people were generally kind to you, and you enjoyed that.

You were kind in return.

However you disliked how men could sometimes be creeps to you. But weren’t they the same to every woman on the planet anyways?

This time it felt different, though.

No guy tried to annoy you.

And the one who tried, disappeared soon after and you never saw him ever again. Until his face was on every street of the town with a big “MISSING” beneath his picture.

To be fair, it happened a few times.

It also felt different because of Billy Loomis.

He was the hottest guy of the town and everyone wanted him in their bed at least once in their lives.

And you had to admit that you would also like that.

But you weren’t feeling bold enough to start flirting with him. Especially because you didn’t like drama and you were pretty certain every girl in school would start hating you if they saw you in his arms.

Good thing he was bold enough for you two.

Whenever you would arrive in school, you could be certain that Billy, sometimes closely followed by his best friend Stu, was going to spot you and to walk to you or to gesture to you to come closer.

You were almost certain that Billy was already dating another girl though. Sidney or Sandra or something like that.

You didn’t really care about her, as Billy’s charming presence was always making you forget all about the people around you.

You tried your best to never sit next to him in class or you knew you would never be able to follow what the teacher would say.

But sometimes you failed, because the man seemed to enjoy your presence a little too much for both your own good. He needed to keep an eye on you.

For the sole reason that he had never met a girl he so physically desired before. He couldn’t even imagine how your naked body would feel beneath his, nor how truly gorgeous you were.

He needed to make you his.

And that was why Ghostface was killing whoever was getting a little too close to you for his own liking.

He couldn’t share you with anyone else.

Was it Billy’s fault if you were the hottest gal he ever saw in his whole life?

The first time he saw you, he was smoothly talking to Sidney… and you made him forget his lines. Sidney had been quite pissed at him, and it had been hard to recover from him being distracted because of another girl.

Gosh, you had become his favourite sight to look at. He could watch you all day long without getting bored. You were a masterpiece.

And he needed to have you.

Of course Sidney was in the way, and he really couldn’t wait to get rid of her.

Stu had to remind him countless times that they were supposed to follow the plan or it wouldn’t be as good as they had thought it would be.

But Billy was getting impatient.

You were so hot.

And yet you didn’t seem to notice it.

More than once Billy flirted with you, calling you all kinds of pet names including “beautiful, beauty, gorgeous, hottie,...” but you never really caught on to it.

You were taking care of your body and you enjoyed putting on trendy clothes and a little bit of makeup sometimes too with nice hairstyles.

But you never really thought anything about the way people were watching you. Why would you care as long as everyone was nice to you?

You were used to boys asking you to carry your stuff, and you didn’t see why you should refuse it.

If people wanted to be kind to you, why shouldn’t you take the opportunity?

(Plus your bag always crumpled your tops and you really didn’t like that at all.)

It also often happened that boys tried to kiss you at parties or in your daily life, especially when you were getting along with them or when they were too drunk to realise how stupid they were.

You had to admit that now that you had Billy by your side it was a little bit different. In a good way.

He was protective.

And you were enjoying your time with him. He was cute and funny and intense.

He was so hot.

But you couldn’t imagine that he could want you. He had a girlfriend, anyways.

He was always doing his best to avoid Sidney when you were at parties so he could spend time with you, flirting with you and making sure no one else was talking to you.

He was getting very possessive with you, and the fact you didn’t seem to catch on how much he desired you was only fueling his desire to have you all his.

When he needed to go play with Sidney, he was asking Stu to stay with you. Not that he particularly trusts his friend in the presence of such a hot girl, but it was better than having you with someone he didn’t like or didn’t know.

Billy and Stu often wondered if you were stupid though.

You never caught on to the flirting.

You never seemed to understand their “subtle” remarks about your body.

You never understood either when they were calling you “hot stuff”.

You always giggled and rolled their eyes at them “I’m not hot, I’m just a girl”.

And unlike any other girls Billy flirted with, while being with Sidney, you didn’t play with the situation. It was actually confusing you a lot

“I thought you were dating that girl… what was her name again…?”

“Sidney. Yes I'm dating her and…?”

“Oh well, then maybe you shouldn’t invite me to your place at night… I’m not sure she would be happy about that”

“I’m not planning on telling her, you know. And you neither”

“I don’t even know who she is! But really… why do you want me to come over anyways?”

You were really making things hard for Billy.

But because you weren't noticing anything, he thought you might make things easier for Ghostface: you would never be suspicious of him.

He even thought that you would be pretty easy to kill… but he really didn’t want that. It would be a waste.

And one day, you would be his, body and soul.

Or he would go insane.

[prentissluvr]

finding warmth [ too cold pt. two ] — joel & tommy miller

gn!reader , fatherfigures!joel & tommy , ft ellie ! , angst, hurt/comfort , cw : heavy mentions of loss of loved ones , panic attack , maybe disassociation , nightmares , wc : 3.4K , pt. one here !

“there it is. jackson.” it’s four simple words and one single view from a cliffside that manages to take your breath away.

it looks like a paradise in the middle of this hell of a world, looking down upon it from here. the protective walls are high and vast, and the cluster of buildings looks lively, though you can’t even see the people of the town from this vantage point.

you can’t tear your eyes from it, finding yourself truly speechless.

“we’ll be there in no time. it’s even better up close.” you can vaguely hear the amusement in joel’s voice as he likely takes in your astonished expression. nodding, you find it in yourself to bring your gaze back to the man sitting in front you, sending him a grateful smile.

joel isn’t completely right, though, as for you, the remainder of the ride feels somehow like both the “no time” that he promised, but also one of the longest stretches of anticipation that you’ve felt in a long, long time. much like your physical state of hypothermia the day prior, you have become accustomed to an odd state of emotional numbness, where you feel nothing but a deep sense of hopelessness. the pain of loss never left you, but for long months now, it’s manifested in the horridness of nothing. so now, to be feeling so much is an odd sensation. half of you wants to push it away in favor of self-preservation. look where feelings have gotten you. but the other part of you tugs at it, trying to pull the emotions out from where they must have been hiding. part of you yearns for it. the anticipation, both anxious and almost excited. the gratitude. the foreign feeling of a spark of hope.

what joel is completely right about is the fact that this place is far better up close. the border is higher than you imagined, and the liveliness of people in the town once you’re let in is immediately apparent. there’s far more people than you would have thought, parents and children, siblings and even people growing old. it’s overwhelming, to say the least, but it’s wonderful regardless.

as your gaze sweeps through everything, trying to take it all in, you catch tommy’s eye, and he grins at you brightly. you can’t help but return a smile, however hesitant it may be.

as promised, you’re taken to the town doctor right after dropping the horses off at the stable. you do your best not to shy away from him, wanting to stay hidden behind the two brothers who brought you here as you had on the walk over. but, you don’t have to stay long, as the doctor explains that, with joel and tommy’s help, you’re well on the mend. all he tells you is to continue to stay bundled up and avoid going outside too much.

but that brings you to your next issue. where do you stay to avoid the cold… to settle down? it seems most people aren’t alone here, and you can’t imagine it's easy for anyone to have an unknown teenager crashing in one’s home.

tommy’s kind voice quickly pulls you out of your worried thoughts, unintentionally answering your unspoken, anxiety-fueled questions. “we’ll look for a more permanent space for you to stay in, but for now, we thought you could stay in joel’s spare room for now. that sound alright to you?”

“of course,” you confirm, relieved to hear that you’ll be able to stay with someone familiar, at least for now. “thank you,” you mumble slightly as you speak.

“sure thing, kiddo. you should know that i live with another kid around your age. she’s a little,” joel pauses, searching for the right word, “fiesty,” he decides on, “but she’ll show you around town.”

“if either of them get too annoying,” tommy refers to his brother and this girl he lives with, who you’d assume to be his daughter, but he never said anything about that like one normally would, so you let that thought slide, focusing in on tommy’s playful tone, “then you can come find me right across the street. my wife’ll knock some sense into them,” he chuckles. you return a small laugh, grateful for his willingness to joke around in attempts to make you feel more comfortable.

but you can’t bring yourself to open up like him, so you settle on what you hope is an amicable, “alright,” using the single word as an acknowledgement to both joel’s previous statement and tommy’s joke.

by the time you’re settled in joel’s spare room, it’s almost time for dinner, the sun dipping lower and lower by the minute. sitting on the edge of the ricketty twin sized bed, a luxury you haven’t had in who knows how long, you replay your introduction to ellie.

something had felt a little bit odd, almost as if she were the one that felt protective over joel. she wasn’t mean, per se, but she hadn’t felt the most welcoming, as if she were wary of you and what your presence could mean. you couldn’t blame her, though, you agreed one could never be too careful in this world. she did seem to relax when joel told her you’d only be staying with them temporarily. another thing you couldn’t figure out was their relationship. they acted like family, father and daughter, but again, those words were never said. she only called him joel.

that was another thing you easily let slide, though, silently understanding. you knew what it was like for someone who shared none of your blood to be more like family than anyone who technically was. and you knew what it was like to lose them, so you couldn’t blame ellie’s hesitation at joel bringing in some random, shivering kid like yourself who’s clearly relying on him.

you begin to wonder if it would have been better to stay with tommy, but you remind yourself he’s probably busy with his wife and baby. there was another thing that astounded you about this place. he has a baby. and that baby is safe here, has a chance to grow up in a way kids haven’t for more than twenty years. almost normal, or what used to be normal. of course, you’d know nothing about that. your normal, what you know is ellie’s normal, is fear and caution and limitations.

now suddenly, impossibly overwhelmingly, there’s so much more for you. people who have thus far proven good in their intentions, who have cared enough to protect you, help you. there’s safety surrounding you, and in that, an inch of freedom to have things. here, kids go to school, and, according to joel, it’s nothing like fedra school. they have a library, for god’s sake. as you walked past it, tommy told you that it’s really quite small, nothing like what they used to have. but it’s gotta be more than you’ve ever had access to.

it’s amazing. so much so, it’s almost too much. too much to process how much your life has changed in just days, how much easier you thought it would ever to have a sense of hope crawling its way back up your throat. 

there’s a knock on your door, and someone clears their throat from the hallway.

“come in,” you said, hoping there’s nothing on your face that betrays how much you’re thinking about right now.

the door creaks open, just enough for joel to poke his head in. “thought we could go grab some dinner? just realized we didn’t feed you all that well on the way over.”

“sounds great.” you hadn’t realized either, used to the hunger. but at the mention, or rather the promise of food, you can’t help but water at the mouth. 

i’m starving, you realize, and maybe for more than just food.

—

out of everything wonderful and new, your favorite place is by far the mess hall. that’s part of the reason why you’re so delighted when ellie invites you to go to lunch with her. that and the fact that, for the past two weeks, you’ve been juggling with the idea that maybe she hates you.

of course, that’s not fair of you to think, and you know it, especially not as she’s begun to warm up to you the past few days. you feel as though you understand at least a little bit why she hasn’t been as warm to you as tommy and joel have been. but you can’t help yourself in wanting her to like you. she’s similar in age to you, and she seems enjoyable to be around with the way she teases joel about whatever she can and makes him cringe with bad jokes.

so yes, you may feel a little overly excited when she knocks on your door and asks if you want to go grab lunch together. of course, you don’t act out half as much as you feel, feeling consistently better staying quiet and edging on unreadable. but, you still shoot her a small smile as you accept her invitation, even if you feel like she may be saying it just because joel asked her to.

you don’t care though, happily trudging along to the mess hall, excited for both food and the opportunity to make ellie like you just a little bit.

when you sit down, plates full of food, the conversation is a little bit awkward, but it’s there nonetheless. she asks you about how you feel about jackson, and you try not to let on how complicated everything feels in your head.

but it seems she picks up on a hint of all the things you’re not saying, and that seems to make her open up a bit more.

“i know it’s a lot coming here after… yknow, all the shit out there. it’s great, but it’s still strange,” she starts. “might sound crazy, but i still feel out of place here sometimes,” she admits.

you nod, taking in her words, grateful for her assurance. “yeah. it is weird,” you agree.

she mirrors the same shake of your head. “so, uh. if you ever need any help finding your way or anything…” she clears her throat as if she’s unsure of her words, “you can ask me,” her voice quickly returns to the confidence and playfulness it normally holds, “that way you don’t have to rely on crabby old dudes like joel and tommy.”

you let yourself laugh at that. “thank you,” you smile, hoping she can see how much you mean it.

the rest of the meal flows far more easily than you expected, the conversation turning to more casual subjects. she even cracks one of her awful jokes, but you can’t bring yourself to complain about it because for some reason it feels like it means something. not much, but something, like she sees you as someone she can share a part of herself with, even if it’s small. so when she makes the corniest joke you may have ever heard, you just grin and cringe a little. and that makes her laugh, which makes you smile harder.

so maybe that’s why, walking down the streets back home, she feels more like a friend than the stranger you met not too long ago.

that’s when the foreign feeling of contentedness—the one that’s just begun to try and seep into your thawing heart—is ripped away, as if it’s a leech sucking up your once constant caution.

all it takes is the poorly timed yell of a name along with a shrill shriek to take your breath away. this time you’re not in awe of the safety of this place. this time, you’ve been taken back to the most dangerous of your memories.

you freeze in place, so silent that ellie doesn’t even notice that you’re not walking with her for a moment. she stops in her tracks, turning back to you with a confused expression. but by the time she’s back in front of you, asking if you’re okay, her voice is already distant.

you’re trying to explain to yourself what happened. someone yelled that name, but it’s not her. her name, yes, but not her. she’s dead now. and the scream. that came from a playing child, one you’re sure was just too excited by a game of tag. 

but it’s no use, not when you’re already too far gone, with flashes of bloody fighting and echoes of horrified screams battering your senses and detaching you from reality. all you know is that you’re fighting to breathe, and you feel as though you’re drowning right out in the open.

you stumble forward, and you’re vaguely aware of ellie leading you to a pole to lean on. she’s trying to tell you that you’re alright, but your memories drown out anything she says. another blurry figure appears in front of you, and somehow when he calls your name, it cuts through your senses, crystal clear.

“you’re alright,” he says, such assurance filling his voice that it almost convinces you too. then you’re able to think, it’s tommy. “you’re safe here. you’re not there anymore.”

you gasp at his words, reaching out to him with the hand not gripping the pole. immediately, he steps closer, and your hand latches onto his upper arm while his softly holds your elbow. in the back of your mind it feels unnatural for you to fall into his embrace the way that you do, but the part of you that craves comfort takes over in this moment. he’s warm and his shoulders are broad, and it’s as if his presence blocks out everything else. that’s what lets your mind quiet, your breathing even out.

when you part and he wipes gently at your tears for just a quick moment, that’s when embarrassment hits. you feel more than awkward, and a little uncomfortable with this sort of display of vulnerability, and yet a piece of you still embraces the thought of allowing the results of it into your life. you already crave his embrace again, you know you’ll want it when the nightmares come.

but nonetheless, you put your head up high and try to keep your voice firm as if to convince everyone that, yes, you’re alright and you’re no longer weak. in reality, you still feel shaken. it’s been a while since you’ve relived that night like that. it seems that letting go of your numbness brings back everything, including the most unwelcome.

back in your room, cooped up there even as the sun begins to set, you battle with yourself. you don’t want to let go of the things that you’re finding along with the warmth that’s beginning to replace the cold that had settled in your bones. but you don’t want to have anything to lose. when you’re warm, there’s always the chance to lose it, never safe from blizzards or blades.

you know practically that it’s far safer here than anywhere else, that here you have the best chance of holding onto something and having it stay heavy in your hands.

but you ignore it all when ellie knocks on your door, then when joel calls out to you from the hallway, asking for you to come out and have dinner with them. and you fall asleep thinking that it’s best if tommy never hugs you again, if you never share the saddle on a horse with joel another time.

—

and yet, you were right in your prediction; that when the nightmares came, you’d crave to be held in arms that felt like they cared, the very same way you had been months and months ago before you lost it all.

that’s the scariest part, waking up in a cold sweat, your heart beating a million miles an hour, and realizing that no matter what happens, no matter how much you lose and tell yourself you’ll never let anyone caring for you mean anything, you still want to be held. because you’re afraid, you’re bewildered, and you can’t remember where the hell you are. but you know someone outside of that door cares and that’s what pulls you out of the bed and into the hallway, stumbling and out of breath. you’re not even sure who, or why, but the people you loved most just died in your dreams, so you don’t care. maybe it’s them, maybe it’s all just a nightmare. you dare to hope and it seems as though that’s always your fatal mistake.

firm hands on your shoulders make you jolt in surprise, then fear. the hoarse scream that follows startles you too until you realize the sound came from your own mouth. there’s a gruff voice, saying your name softly, hushing you, telling you you’re alright. it’s not them, you realize. and they are dead. they have been.

“joel?” you croak out, half sobbing as he comes into focus. you hadn’t realized before, but your hands cling to fistfuls of his sleeping shirt.

“i’m here, it’s me. you’re alright. everything’s alright, kiddo,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, but it still retains that firmness that begins to ground you. but you shake your head as he pulls you into his chest, grieving for things that you lost all over again. he sighs like he knows what you mean. you suppose he does though, because it’s hard to meet someone who hasn’t lost something they never thought they could. so instead of lying and saying that it’s fine, he says, “i’m sorry,” and you know that he is, but not in the way that stings and makes you think, you have no idea. the tone of his voice tells you he has every idea, knows it all, lost it all.

and so it feels less pitiful to cry into his arms, even when you know that ellie came out of her room after your scream woke her up. even when your chest still wars at you, yelling to pull away, to run away, as far as you can. that you’re not allowed to have this anymore, all for the same reason as before; you can’t lose nothing. but you know that you hate having nothing, and that there’s something right in front of you, all around you, that’s being offered up like warm food on a silver platter. and when you’re hungry and cold, there’s nothing wrong, no, there is everything right in taking the offer and saying thank you.

so you do.

“thank you,” you whisper into his chest as your tears begin to subside, and in that moment you don’t know that he wishes there was a way to say “of course,” and have you know just how much he means it.

“course,” he says simply, and it makes you sigh into his embrace so he feels a little better about it, because you’ve relaxed in his arms just a bit. even as you’re no longer crying, he lets you stay there, he doesn’t want to take away his warmth without you being ready to part first. so he waits and eyes ellie’s door, knowing she left it slightly open in case you need anything, and knowing she’ll want his reassurance that she’s still his after seeing you in his arms. but the crack in the door still tells him she cares enough about you to let him take care of you first.

so he does.

he rubs your back, and lets the air be silent, quiet just for you. and when you pull away from him, just a little, he takes a small step back and puts a hand on your back to guide you back into your room. he pulls the covers up when you climb in bed and doesn’t say anything he knows you don’t want him to. all he tells you is that he’ll be right back with a cup of water and a snack for you. and when comes back, he just sets it on the bedside table for you, and doesn't push you to eat or drink. when he makes his way back to your door, he stops in the frame and tries to sound like it's normal to tell you to come get him if you need anything, and that there’s no shame if you do. 

he just wants you to know he’s there to help. luckily for you, and luckily for him, you do know, and you try to fall asleep with that weighing on your heart. you want to accept that the weight is far better, far warmer, than nothing.

—

thank you for everyone who asked to be tagged !! i hope you all enjoy part two as much as, if not more than, you did part one !! @taraiel , @lizlil , @your-shifting-gurl, @thetiredtoad0-0, @groggygrogu, @ackermanbitch, @midgetpottermills, @lovelyygirl8, @s0upm1x, @imonmykneessir, @cozyphine [ bold i couldn't tag ! ]

i won't be doing a part three but i likely will do drabbles from this universe later !! <33 thanks for the love on part one <33

[summershouto]

baby 5 & sanji- the role of gender

I’m definitely not the first person to say this but Sanji’s women obsession is very similar to Baby 5’s need to please and I wanted to expand on it more bc the thoughts keep bouncing around in my brain 

Sanji and Baby 5 have the same core need to find love and it effects their actions- especially in matters with romance/the opposite sex. While both of their fixations are often treated as jokes, they still reflect underlaying issues tied to their backstories.

The way they act on this romantic drive is somewhat different, as they both assume the traditionally expected roles in accordance with their gender. They’re putting on a performance, behaving over-the-top in effort to please, while still varying in how they portray their love-sickness to remain a model man/woman. these differences set them apart, and I feel in Sanji’s case it can result in his behavior being brushed off as simply a weird quirk (unlike Baby 5, who’s actions remain lighthearted but are recognized as a trauma response).

They both have the same reaction to potential interest/attention, but remain strictly on the opposite ends of the spectrum of Man vs Woman in a conventional relationship. 

Baby 5 maintains a caretaking, flattering-focused obsession of the opposite sex rather than transforming into having pervy gags. She wants to be needed but she also enjoys (and sometimes imagines) being swooned over.

Looking at Sanji in the beginning, before the annoying nosebleed/creep gags became more prominent, he was also rather romance driven rather than motivated by lust. He, similar to Baby 5, saw many as potential suitors; a hopeless romantic at heart. While Baby 5 strikes at the first sign of interest from a man, Sanji equally treats every woman as someone he needs to look after . 

Baby 5 jumps into the role of a caring wife. She blushes like a schoolgirl and assumes that every man who is kind is showing interest in her. Meanwhile Sanji, filling the role of a traditional man in the relationship, seeks to provide. He wants to aid women in any way possible- whether thats with cooking or actual physical protection. His pervy gags could also be read as a way to fit this norm- as a man it’s more societally acceptable to be lust driven- (and in some cases, lust/sex is a way to “prove” ones manhood).  This is especially prominent after his time apart from the crew surrounded by people that challenged his notions of gender.

Overall their use of these traditional gender roles are safe; an easy way to get attention. People in real life often use romantic attention as means of fulfillment, and I read their actions as the same.

Baby 5 and Sanji are both people pleasers. Baby 5 is named as such, noting she can’t deny anyone anything because she longs to be needed. Sanji’s lack of self-worth causes him to always put others first, even at the cost of his own wellbeing. They see themselves as existing to fulfill a needed role, bidding their time until the moment arises. 

Other people have noted how similar Baby 5 and Sanji are in this way, joking that it’s good Sanji and Baby 5 never met because they’d get married instantly. I think it would actually be very interesting if they had met. Two people pleasers in a relationship is a recipe for disaster, especially with people as passionate as Baby 5 and Sanji. Their way of dealing with conflict would be to.. not. Neither would ever want to say the other is at fault. Their approach towards romance is seeking a sense of fulfillment, which would create an interesting dynamic with their exaggerated swooning. 

Now there are some people who truly are greatly motivated to pursue relationships, but with Sanji and Baby 5’s backstories revolving around a lack of love,  it’s safe to assume that it’s a bit more of an inorganic reaction for them. Especially when looking at the situations their love gets them into, such as when Baby 5 fell head over heels for a man because he was kind to her once despite not showing any prior attraction. 

Sanji is on the opposite side of the spectrum, finding /every/ woman beautiful and himself unworthy. Where Baby 5 aims to prove her worth from any one person and seeks a reason for her receiving kindness, Sanji places himself below all the women he meets and grovels in attempt to please as they stand on their pedestals. 

Sanji was raised by Zeff- someone who had a strong influence in how Sanji perceives and treats women. Sanji’s hunger for love was enhanced by the teaching of strict gender roles and emphasis on chivalry. While Baby 5 longs to be the helpful wife, Sanji becomes the pursuer- acting like a white knight as he sought women’s attention. That’s not to say his attraction isn’t real, but his extreme reactions to women reflect his desperation to please. 

Sanji also has the added factor of the men vs women in his life prior to Zeff, with only his mother and sister showing him kindness. Women were safer; and Zeff furthered this belief through his teachings.  

They’re both self-sacrificial to a dangerous degree. To them, their lives are indispensable; meaning if someone needs to die for the greater good then that’s the role they feel they were made for. Their life IS other people.

This is also interesting to consider in the perspective of non-heterosexual relationships. Sanji has a complicated past with gender/sexuality, so his aggressive actions towards men reflect what he feels a “real man” should be. Feminine attention is good, acceptable to enjoy, but male attention is something to scorn.

For Baby 5, we don’t really see her react to the kindness of a woman. She grew up around predominantly men and men appear to be the ones who most often take advantage of her. It’s curious to consider if meeting another woman with good intentions would allow her to be more sincere. 

I guess in conclusion I often see Baby 5’s actions being recognized as a response to her past, but I don’t often see Sanji’s explained similarly. Personally I think Sanji’s behavior is greatly effected by his starve for love, and he throws himself into it just like Baby 5. However, the way theyre perceived is greatly effected by their gender and their according behavior to fit the norms. Regardlessly, he and Baby 5 both rely on other people to find their worth- and the quickest way to do that is to turn to romantic love. 

[starcrossedxwriter]

Unbreakable Part 3 (Erik Killmonger x OC)

Warnings: none...

A/n: a little pre-Christmas gift. Enjoy!

Naja pushed the knife into his side, not enough to draw blood but just enough for him to feel it. 

“Yield.” 

“Aight girl, damn.” Naja smirked to herself before letting him go and sliding the knives back into their sheaths at her waist. “You don’t know the difference between friendly training ’n a real fight, do you?” 

“Well, this isn’t friendly so…” she shrugged, though she found her tone was not the entirely cold one she hoped it would be as she went to grab water. “And a person who thinks any fight is friendly is a person who won’t live long. No one out there is going to fight friendly so why would I train as such? Easy way to meet the ancestors faster if you ask me.” 

His response, not that he did not agree with it, shocked him. Every day, he realized just how truly different she was now. Or at least, how different she outwardly showed herself to be. But it could not have just been their break up, he reasoned. It had to be something else to harden her to this degree. 

“May I ask you something?” 

He lifted his head. “Well that would involve talking to me?” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll make you a deal. Tell me how you keep beatin’ my ass and I’ll answer your question.”

Naja mulled over his compromise for a moment before nodding, the terms seemed logical and fair enough. She crossed back over the mat to stand in front of him.  

“It’s not that hard. You fight like most overconfident men, feel free to take offense to that, by the way.” He merely rolled her eyes. Her jabs seemed to roll off his back, which annoyed her to no end. “Like you’re the biggest and strongest, you merely throw your weight around with little skill. And you can get away with that when you are indeed the biggest and the strongest. Most people can’t overpower brute strength. But I’ve never been the strongest and never will be. Certainly not the biggest in a fight and likely also never will be. So I rely on skill and skill alone. And my other senses. It’s obvious you know how to fight and have skill, even if it is… lacking since you took the herb. Because you know only a handful of equally enhanced people could hope to beat you. You want to beat me? Focus on using your mind to beat me, not those giant muscles,” she gestured at his bulging biceps. 

“Damn, you good. And right. That first day I fought you was my first time fightin’ in a year. Maybe you can teach me some of those skills?” 

Naja stared at him for a few moments before acquiescing. She would never admit it to him but she enjoyed their afternoon sparring sessions. Though they had been at it for a week, this was the most they had spoken in their sessions. He did not push conversation on her even though she could always tell there was a question on the tip of his lips. But their time together steadily opened the release valve on the tension between them even if they did not speak to each other. Every blow, grunt, and kick chipped away at the barrier between them, just as - she imagined - he knew it would. She hated that his plan was working. 

“Deal. We’ll try some new things tomorrow.” 

“I’m a man of my word… now,” he added with a chuckle when her eyebrow raised. “What do you wanna know?” 

“How did a man who vowed to sooner destroy Wakanda before he stepped foot in it again manage to get his hands on our most sacred herb?” 

He scratched the nape of his neck, that was not the question he was expecting. But it was a fair one. He had once vowed to burn Wakanda to the ground for what they took from him. And now he was back, serving the country as loyally as any other soul would, had given up more than most would - though he chose not to think about the long-term freedoms he gave up for it. Only T’Challa knew the road that led him back, that changed his mind. 

“You weren’t wrong…” he closed the space between them. 

“I rarely am,” she offered, which made him laugh. 

Conceded but true, he thought to himself. 

“T’Challa and I did reconnect after his father died… couple years before the Blip. He gave me a set of beads and told me if I ever needed anythin’, call him. Never thought I’d need to call it in, never thought I’d need him. And then… shit hit the fan after the Blip, tried to save someone instead of myself and got shot.” He gestured toward the faintest scar among the raised scarring on his chest. “Escaped, used one of the beads to stabilize myself, called T’Challa. By the time they got me back, the herb was the only option.” 

“You were shot?” She whispered. Without thinking, her hand reached to his scarred chest and grazed over the faint line left behind. It was barely visible against the bumps that marred his perfect skin. The picture of it pained her soul, the idea of him floating between life and death. “I d-don’t understand you,” she whispered with a soft chuckle and head shake. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You claimed to have no room in your heart for anyone, claimed to love nothing and no one. Who on this planet was worth almost dying for?” 

Erik grabbed her hand, holding it to his chest, which tore her eyes from his scar to his deep brown ones. 

“Someone who reminded me of the most important thing I sacrificed, the thing I always wanted to get back to.” 

She could feel the ice between them, the ice she so desperately clung to, melting away as if someone set it ablaze. It could not withstand this, this fire that brewed between them under the surface of disdain. She could no longer ignore it in favor of righteous rage. He was making it impossible to do so. She wanted to resist it, break free of him and this spell he kept putting her under. But his pull was impossible to resist. She was paralyzed there with him and that terrified her. 

“W-why’d you stay?” 

“I saw my dad in the Ancestral Plane. Reminded me that I… I had been on the run from hard shit long enough, that I made mistakes and I needed to stay and fix them. Atone for them. So I vowed to stick around this time and do that.”

“And did you? Fix it?” Her voice was reduced to a whisper. 

“Some of it. Some are proving harder but I got 5 or 6 weeks left.” 

She wished Bast would send her some snappy retort, something to remind him that she hated him. However, there was nothing. No jabs, no anger, nothing she could offer. The old her, the one she buried beneath everything she was today, yearned for him as if he were oxygen for her to breathe. But she couldn’t, couldn’t let her out again, allow herself to be hurt like that again.

“What if t-that isn’t enough? What if t-there’s t-too much damage?” 

He shrugged. “With enough work, anything can be fixed. And I ain’t ever let a challenge stop me.” 

She let out a shaky breath as his face leaned in closer to hers. It was as if something transported her back to her teens. She was 16 again, sneaking through the caves of the falls with Erik, ready to fall into the roaring river that was him. And here she was, foolishly, teetering on that edge again. And the rope that kept her tethered to the edge, a decade of pain and anger, that was fraying at the middle with each passing moment in his presence. 

However, she was thankful when both of their beads rang out loudly, a cannon that forced them away from each other. 

Thank Bast, she thought to herself. She still answered some prayers.

“It’s T’Challa,” she mumbled. “W-We should go.” 

Erik tried to mask the crestfallen look on his face before he nodded and followed her out. Every day he had to remind himself that movement and rebuilding was slow tedious work. And his road back into Naja’s good graces would a long one.

***

Naja tossed and turned, groaning slightly to herself. Sleep was more difficult in Wakanda than she thought it would be. She was used to holding late hours, whether for her shifts at the bar or for activities that required the cover of night before sleeping until noon. It also did not help how soft her bed was. She had long left the luxuries of Wakanda behind and now they were difficult to grow accustomed to again. 

Her family was determined to use every moment of her time with them. A certain adorable prince demanded Naja’s attendance at breakfast before he went to school, which meant early mornings with the family. She spent most of the day with Nakia and the baby before sparring with Erik in the afternoon, an activity she hated to admit she looked forward to. 

“You aren’t sleeping,” she mumbled to herself before sliding out of bed. She grabbed her long duster to provide some level of decency to her short sleeping shorts and tank top. She wished she had the company of man to help her at least feel tired but she did not. Besides, everytime she thought about it… there was only one man that came to mind and that was beyond out of the question. 

She slid on her slippers and, because she was who she was, grabbed her gun from under her pillow and tucked it in the waistband of her shorts. What would she need it for? She did not know but she did not go anywhere at night without it. 

She slipped out of her quarters, nodding at the two Dora who stood guard outside her wing. They did not follow her, thank Bast. But that had been the compromise. 

She meandered through the halls, soft candles leading her around as she wandered. A soft wind blew through the open halls of the palace, leading her to the gardens. She walked through, savoring the beauty and quiet of the space. She settled in a patch that grew vibrant blue lilies she knew Nakia had planted as they grew along the falls. They were her personal favorites. She sat there and studied them, noting every shade of blue in each petal. They reminded her of a softer life, a softer time. She used to keep a bouquet of them by her bed when she was young. 

She had no desire to go back there but she could not pretend that sometimes she didn't missed it. She missed the girl that could fall asleep on mattresses that felt like clouds and became gleeful at pretty flowers. Who sought out the beauty in every person, not the ulterior motives they had to harm her. That girl was dead and buried, rightfully so but she was missed. 

As quickly as her reminiscing started, it ended as she felt a presence behind her. Instinctively, she jumped up and grabbed her gun, pointing it at Erik. 

“Ain’t seen someone move that fast in a minute,” he offered, admiration in his voice despite the gun aimed between his eyes. “You a good shot?” 

“Better than you I’m sure,” she mumbled. “They didn’t teach you at your assassin school about sneaking up on other assassins?” 

“Wasn’t sneakin’. I said your name twice before you almost blew my head off.” 

Naja blinked a few times in shock. “Oh, sorry, don’t know how I didn’t hear you.” She stowed her weapon back behind her back and shifted her weight awkwardly. “Couldn’t sleep either?” 

“Nah… just don’t need it much anymore. One of the benefits of the herb. Lots of time to wander and think.” 

Some nights, the restlessness in his spirit was simply unbearable so he just wandered. He often left the palace and went to his favorite spots in the country. But some nights like tonight, he just walked around the palace. Since he moved in, he imagined he had learned every nook and cranny. No one ever bothered him or even tried to stop him, though he knew every midnight stroll made its way back to T’Challa. 

He had free range but he also knew T’Challa kept a close eye on him. He was not intrusive or overbearing so Erik chose to ignore it and let T’Challa do whatever he needed to do to feel secure about Erik’s residency there. And though T’Challa would never admit it, Erik also knew that his spying had an ulterior motive driven by a fear that T’Challa would wake up one day and Erik would have disappeared without warning or a goodbye. 

That was not him anymore, he had learned his lesson years ago. Learned the irreversible pain abandoning people without thought or care for them did. And he vowed that he would never make such a callous choice again, especially since he would likely spend the rest of his life making up for the last time. If he could have, Bast knew he would go back and do so many things differently, make so many different choices. That was all the last 15 years had been: years and years to contemplate the terrible decisions he made in his youth. 

“And opportunities to steal from the kitchens?” she gestured toward the wrapped up napkins in his hand. 

“Another benefit or curse of the herb, dependin’ on how you look at it. Always hungry as fuck.” 

She chuckled. “I can relate,” she admitted. “To the hungry part at least.” 

Erik studied her for a minute before reaching his hand out, handing her the wrapped up food. She raised an eyebrow before taking it and opening it, revealing her favorite dessert, a Wakandan lime cake that she had not had in years but adored. 

“Wanna share? It’s that recipe you always loved.” 

She wanted to say no but she saw it for what it was: a peace offering. At least for them at this moment, even if it did not last till the sun rose in the morning. 

She settled back in her spot, Erik sitting next to her, the cake perched on his knee as they each broke off pieces. She stifled a moan as the flavors hit her taste buds. 

“Bast… I forgot how good that was. Thanks for sharing. I hope you didn’t poison it or something.” 

“You hate me, not the other way around, remember?” 

Yes, you do hate him. Remember?? A voice yelled in her head. But did she? Really? Cause everything she felt right now was far from hate. Complicated, yes? But hate was not complicated at all. 

“Right. Wouldn’t be wise on your part to accept any cake from me then.” She grabbed another piece and popped it in her mouth before laying back in the soft grass. Her eyes studied the stars as they laid there in silence, Erik quietly handing her pieces of cake as he watched her. 

“Can I ask you somethin’? You owe me at least that, eating all my damn cake.” Not that he minded. 

“I’m nothing if not fair. What do you want to know?” 

Erik wanted to know so much, he wanted to know everything that had happened to her in the last 15 years but he knew it was a slow build to gaining her trust again. Which meant he had to start with a soft ball, something simple and easy that would not ruffle any feathers. 

“Been readin’ war dog files and most choose jobs and covers that… give them comfort. You chose a bartender in the poorest part of the country, why?” 

Naja turned onto her side to look at him. This was the most relaxed Erik had seen her since he arrived and he loved it. 

“T’Challa asked the same thing when I picked it,” she chuckled. “When I was assigned to Niganda as home base, I knew I needed to keep a low profile, I needed to be flexible and available for missions. And the poorest village in any country is the most overlooked. Knew no one would look twice. Perfect place to hide. And then I just grew to love it, the people… the heart of it. They don’t have much but everyone does everything they can for everyone. And I became a war dog to help people. If I was going to take lives, I figured I could help them too. And then it just became home.” 

“You are so different now…” he mumbled as he stared at her. 

She shrugged. “Had to be. Wasn’t going to survive any other way. Suppose I should thank you for that? If you hadn’t…” she did not want to say it. “Left, I wouldn’t be who I am today.” 

“And is she better than who you were?” He asked, holding her gaze. 

“She’s stronger. She won’t be broken ever again. She can’t be.” 

Erik knew he should quit while he was ahead. They were dancing into dangerous territory that could undo the fragile peace they had created between them. But he could not stop himself. He hated that she thought such things about herself, hated that she thought so lowly of herself. 

“What makes you think she wasn’t strong?” 

“Because she…” Naja stopped herself. She did not think she could go down this road with him. He wanted vulnerability and she was not interested in giving it to him. He did not deserve it. “I believe you asked for one question… not eight follow ups,” she joked. “I should head back to my room.” She stood up and dusted off her clothes. “Thanks for the cake.” 

Erik sighed. He figured he was taking it too far but he lost control when he was with her. Forgot about his obligations and all the things his brain knew he should not do. All he could think about was what his heart wanted and that was her, all of her. 

“Let me walk you back.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t need an escort.” 

“I know you don’t. Humor a nigga, damn. Were you always this stubborn?” 

Naja snorted. “Another consequence of your actions,” she shrugged. 

“Well your suite’s on the way to mine so we can walk in that direction together.” 

“You don’t give up, do you?” 

He closed the space between them, heat rising in Naja’s entire body as he stared down at her. “Nope. But I was always like that.” 

She did not say anything, there was no response she could offer that did not betray her. If she stayed in his presence, under his smolder much longer, he would end up in her bed. She had far less self control than he gave her credit for. 

She turned and walked back in the direction she came. They did not say much as they walked through the silent halls until they were back in front of her suite. 

“Thanks for the cake and conversation. It was nice,” she admitted. 

“How painful was that?” At her confused expression, Erik added. “To say somethin’  nice to me?” 

Naja laughed loudly. Fuck, Eirk forgot how much he missed that sound. “Very. Don’t make me regret it. And say a word of it to anyone else and I’ll show you how good of a shot I am,” she warned. 

“Fine if you do somethin’ for me? Next time you can’t sleep and want to go wanderin’, call me. I know all the best spots for us night owls.” 

She studied him. Everything in her warred. Her heart demanded she say yes, the voice she listened to the least. Her brain simply demanded she remember everything he had done to her, how he had destroyed her. But her heart recognized his effort, recognized that he was trying to earn her trust back. And what did she gain by pretending it was not working to some degree? But doing so scared her. Her anger and rage toward him had been fuel to survive, she did not know who she was without it. But even that fear was not strong enough to make her say that simple word: no. 

He had infiltrated every aspect of her being and there was only so much resistance she could put up.

“Fine. But this changes nothing between us. I just don’t enjoy wandering alone.” She did not even understand the point of adding that caveat. It was not true. The sum of two conversations had changed everything between them. 

Erik was not even annoyed or angry at her words. He deserved 99% of the lashings she gave him. He was honestly surprised she even said yes. But he would not complain, the barrier softened with every passing day and he would take whatever he could get. 

“I know. You still hate me. Understood. See you on the mat, Naja.” 

“Night.” 

Naja watched him walk off before closing the door to her room. She slumped against the door. 

“Fuck me,” she muttered before climbing into bed. 

However, she could not deny that Erik had a certain effect on her because she slept the rest of the night. Though her brain plagued her with dreams, or in her opinion nightmares, of him. Of her falling for him yet again. And each one ended the same way: with him leaving her heartbroken and alone. 

She was only pulled out of her dreams at a knock at her door. She groaned, wondering who had lost all common sense and was bothering her. She rubbed her eyes, noticing the sun was high in the sky. She glanced at her clock, breakfast was in a short while which meant she did not need to scream at whatever poor soul stood on the other side of her door. 

She slid on her robe and pulled open the door. 

“Sister Naja? I have a delivery for you.” The woman held a vase of blue flame lilies in her arms. “There’s also a note.” 

“Who are they from?” Naja asked, though she already knew the answer. 

“They said you would know.” and with that, she handed her the vase and note and walked away. Naja sat on her bed, sliding the vase down on her bedside table before opening the note. 

A girl once told me she liked to wake up to these every day because they were a reminder of the beauty in our world. One of the many lessons that girl taught me was that strength and beauty can co-exist. It took me too long to learn that lesson but when I did, it changed my life. I hope you haven’t forgotten it. 

A tear slid down her cheek as she studied the flowers. 

“I hate him so much,” she whispered to herself. But she knew the truth, the only thing she hated about Erik was how much she still loved him. And really, that was what she hated about herself more. 

***

“Again!” Naja demanded as she jumped to her feet. She spun the spear around her in her hand before stabbing into the soft material of the mat. 

Erik braced himself on his knees. “How the fuck you keep doin’ that shit? It’s like I ain’t even tryin’. This shit’s effortless for you.” 

“I’m just that good,” she winked at him before sighing. “I think you need an incentive.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Because this isn’t working. It would be easier to teach a penguin to fly than this… and less painful.” 

“So you got jokes? I’m gettin’ my ass beat... and you got jokes." 

Naja closed the space between them. “You’re getting your ass beat because you aren’t trying. You’re pulling your punches and holding back because you don’t want to hurt me. I’m not a child playing on the grown-ups’ mat. Fight me as you would fight any man out there. But I know you. You’ve always had a competitive spirit so let’s make a bet. Best two out of three and whoever wins gets whatever they want. Once in a lifetime opportunity. You in?”  

Erik’s ears immediately perked up. “You serious?” 

“Yes. You need an incentive, so make your wager good. Something you’d fight to the death for.” 

Erik saw a golden path laid out in front of him. This felt too good to be true. But she was completely and totally serious. She was offering him anything in this world. He knew she would fight equally hard to win but he had to try. Big risk, big reward was always his motto. 

“If I win, let me take you out to dinner.” 

Naja immediately shook her head. She clearly had not thought this plan through properly. Wandering through the palace and sparring together was one thing. She could be friendly with him again but she would not date him or intentionally foster the romantic feelings she felt for him. Never again.

“Absolutely not.” 

“You said somethin’ I’d fight to death for and any good spy knows to be specific and you didn’t give any parameters. So that’s it. One dinner outside the palace with me. Besides… it’s gotta be somethin’ you’d fight equally hard to ensure I lost. Gotta make it a fair fight.” 

He knew Naja was principled enough not to go back on her word. She wanted him to fight harder, this would certainly do it. But she hated that he kept trying, kept poking at her soft spots to make her fully cave for him. He was playing her like a fiddle and she was too weak  to stop him. 

However, a small piece of her demanded she resisted the pull to say yes and let Bast and fate decide what happened next.

“One dinner isn’t going to change anything between us. Pick something else.” 

“No. I can be just as stubborn as you.” 

“Pick. Something. Else.” She practically screamed at him, everything in her ignoring the electricity that sparked when they were they close. He woke up every cell in her body, charged her with energy and passion and lust. Everything she did not want to feel for him.

There was no space for Bast between them as they stood off. Despite their significant height difference, Naja did not cower. She stood tall before him even though she barely reached his chin.

“No. You can hate me, despise me. I don’t care. But I won’t stop tryin’, Naja. Even if all I can do is show you I’ve changed and that I regret what I did to you so you can hate me a little less. If that’s all I get, I can live with that. But I can't live knowing I didn't try so I’m gonna use every minute I got to show you. That’s a promise.” 

Naja pulled herself to the fullest height she could. “It won’t work.” 

“If you’re so sure it won’t work, then it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

Naja sucked her teeth. There was no retort for that… at least not one that would get her out of this hellish situation.  “Fine. Pick your weapon.” 

Once they both had their chosen spears in hand, the training center filled with the loud clashing of vibranium. Naja fought with every ounce of intensity she could muster, landing Erik on his back with her spear gently poking his chest in a few short minutes. 

“One for me. Feels like you played this little game all wrong. Instead of giving yourself an incentive, you just gave me a better one to beat your ass.” 

Erik bared his teeth with a menacing smile, his golden grill glistening slightly in the light before he pushed himself to his feet. “I played the game exactly like I wanted to, baby girl. But I like it when you talk shit.” 

Naja bristled at the pet name he used to call her. She imagined he pulled it out simply to touch a nerve but it sounded so effortless too. No one had called her that since him and it, like the flowers he gave her, woke something in her she thought was dead and gone. 

What Naja did not know is that Erik had used the first round to his advantage. He used the time to study her, how she attacked, which weak spots she would go for first. So during the second round, he met her blow for blow, blocking every single one with such precision that she could not hide her shock and surprise. 

“I knew you were holding out on me.” 

“What half assed assassin school did you go to where they didn’t teach you the number 1 rule?” he asked as he slashed the blunt end of his spear against her back, causing her to fall to the ground. 

It was the first time he grounded her but even in her shock, she rolled to her side and immediately bounced to her feet, ignoring the lack of air in her lungs. 

Fuck, she was exhausted. And she knew then that she was screwed. 

“And what’s… that?” 

“No one’s your friend so you should never show all your tricks. And you’ve been showing me all of yours for weeks.” 

And just as Naja lunged to take him down, Erik grabbed the end of her spear and yanked her against his chest. With a move she had never seen before, he twisted the weapon out of her grasp and her arm behind her back, forcing her to remain flush to his chest. For good measure and to prove he had won the round, he grabbed a knife he kept hidden in his vest and held it to her throat. 

“Yield.” 

Naja could feel every scar on his chest pressed against her bare skin as she fought him in only a sports bra and leggings. She could feel every muscle and ounce of strength against her. 

“Screw you,” she spat angrily as she yanked her arm free and turned to face him. 

“I forgot you were a sore loser. One to one. One more round, baby girl.” 

“Call me that again and you’ll meet Bast a lot sooner than you want to.” 

They both crouched down into their fighting stances and pounced. It was more than a dance this time, it was the performance of a lifetime for both of them. There was too much on the line… everything was on the line. Every trick, hidden skill, ruthless action they could use without killing the other, they did. They were fighting to win and they were two people who never lost. 

Everytime each of them thought they had the other in their crosshairs, they found a way to weasel out of them. Naja was afraid of how sore she would be in the morning but she did not care. For all intents and purposes, she was fighting for her life on that mat. Losing her dignity to Erik Stevens again was not an option. 

However, Erik knew one thing that Naja did not want to admit. His enhancements meant that he could last longer in a fight than any of his opponents, even if they were better fighters. He did not have to outfight Naja… he simply had to outlast her. And sure enough, as this round went on for nearly double the amount of time as the others, he could see her movements grow tired and slower. She usually moved with the precision and quickness of a machine. But she was not a machine, she was human and the human body had a limit. She was reaching hers. 

Erik thought about dragging it out but he was a victor ready to claim his prize. While he was the type of monster who enjoyed playing with his food before he went in for the kill, he knew this win would be delicious without all that. 

He waited until Naja lunged for him before he spun away from her and kicked the back of her knee. She groaned in pain as she toppled like a tree. Her usual move to return to her feet was too slow, giving Erik the chance to straddle her hips and pin her hands to the ground. 

“Yield.” He demanded, his voice low and domineering. 

She bucked against him a few times to get him off of her, frustrated at the heaviness that was him against her small frame. She was stuck beneath him and she had lost. They both knew it. 

Her chest heaved and Erik found it difficult not to let his eyes fall to her full chest, the tops of her breasts on display for him. He had forgotten what it was like to have her beneath him. He knew he could never have her like this in the setting he wanted but he could reminisce.

“Say it or we ain’t movin’.”

“I yield,” she whispered through gritted teeth, Erik allowing her to sit up. 

He held out his hand to help her to her feet but like the sore loser she was, she swatted it away and stood up on her own. She stomped over to her bag and wiped the dripping sweat off of her in a fit of rage. How did she lose?

Because you’re weak when it comes to him. Always have been and always will be. 

She could not even look at him in her frustration at him and herself for this stupid position she put herself in. She supposed she just had not expected it to backfire so spectacularly. 

“That was fun. You were right… just needed a good incentive.” He threw her a teasing smile, which her deadpan face did not return. “See you for our walk tonight. I’ll let you know about dinner, just make sure to wear somethin’ black and gold,” he winked at her before grabbing his stuff and leaving the training center.

As she watched him retreat, Naja paced in circles on the training mat before letting out a loud frustrated groan. For good measure, she pulled out all of the knives in her vest one by one and aimed them at the door Erik just walked out of. Each one hit the same square inch of the door with precision right where his head had been only seconds earlier.  

“Should’ve been his fucking face,” she muttered to herself before grabbing her bag and stalking out of the center, her hands angrily ripping each knife out of the door before she left. 

***

Erik could not help but check his beads and messages every five minutes. Tonight’s usual restlessness had turned to all-consuming anxiety as their usual meeting hour had passed without a call or message. He wondered if she was sulking as she had been all evening since their sparring match. She lost fair and square but he knew she would not be happy about it. But he had hoped she would come around by their late night walk.

He found that his few hours with Naja each day were the only things he looked forward to. There was still a coldness to her when they were around the entire family as if she was committed to the facade. But day by day, he got to see a bit of the old her until she realized and usually became cold again. However, he did not mind. He still had several weeks to fully peel back the curtain and he would take every minute he could. 

Maybe she is sleep. She actually needs it, unlike you. 

Erik only felt so bad about keeping her up at night. He knew her human non-enhanced body needed rest that his did not but he did not feel bad enough to cut their time together short. Deciding that he could not wait any longer and could just meet her in the gardens when and if she called, he decided to start his wandering journey without her. 

He pulled on his shoes and stepped out of his room, nodding at the Dora assigned to him. She waited for a moment, knowing he hated the shadows he was forced to keep with him. 

“Staying in the palace tonight,” he called over his shoulder, the woman’s shoulders easing a bit as she remained in her position. Even he had no interest in walking outside in one of Wakanda’s summer storms. He remembered those from when he was a kid, they were a force to be reckoned with. 

The storm immediately made him think of Naja, who was notoriously afraid of thunder and lightning. He wondered if she was still was. Though he imagined there was little she was afraid of these days.

His silent musings were cut short when a soft whimper filled his ears. He whipped his head around, glancing up and down the hall of rooms, his enhanced hearing straining to pick up on the sound again. 

When he heard it a second time, it was more pained, agonizing sadness that gripped his soul with incoherent mumblings he could not make sense of. But it was loud enough for him to know exactly who it was.  

“Naja.” 

His feet moved faster than light itself as he followed the pained sobs to her door. He did not think to knock or announce himself when he pushed inside to find her thrashing in her bed, her sheets tangled up in her limbs. Tears streamed down her face as she cried, he could see the small beads of tacky sweat that covered her. 

With only mere feet between them, he could finally hear her words, her soft apologies to someone who was not there. Select phrases hit his ears and felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart, her proclamations that something was her fault, her pleas for forgiveness. 

His eyes quickly scanned the papers and journals that were littered across her bed. Surveillance photos, maps, pictures of children, notes scribbled in her journal. None of it made sense to him without proper context but one thing he knew for certain: she was involved in far more than watching and observing. 

He sat down on the corner of her bed and gently touched her face, his palm cupping her cheek. His thumb whisked away her tears. At his touch, her body slowly settled, though her tears and mumbling pleas did not.

“Come back to me, Naja,” he whispered. His other hand rubbed her bare arm, hoping his touch would break through the barriers in her mind. “Wake up for me.” 

His instructions were low and his touch measured and gentle until he saw her eyes flutter open. 

“N-N’Jadaka?” She croaked as she blinked her eyes several times, adjusting to the darkness of her room. A loud crack of thunder caused her to jump slightly, Erik moving closer to her to rub her bare arms. She was shaking like a leaf. 

He was so concerned that he did not even get to revel in the fact that she used his real name for the fist time, the one she used to call him. 

“Hey, you’re ok. You’re ok. I just heard you havin’ a nightmare.” 

“J-just a nightmare… just a nightmare,” she muttered to herself as she forced her body into an upright position. Her eyes frantically surveyed her room as the realization that she was still in Wakanda hit her. Her eyes screwed shut, her arms wrapping around her knees as she repeated that refrain. “Just a nightmare.”

He was not sure what to make of the woman who sat in front of him now. She was such a juxtaposition to the hardened and cold spy who he had grown accustomed to since returning home. Since he saw her again, he felt like he was staring at her through a stained glass window. The other side peeked through ever so slightly but, for the most part, all he could see was the picture she wanted him to see and nothing more. But tonight? That stained glass window shattered and he could see her, the girl he fell madly in love with all those years ago. The girl who felt everything with her whole soul, loved so deeply for others, and lived in her vulnerability fully. 

Erik decided to make himself useful by pouring her a glass of water from the pitcher on her coffee table. However, she pushed it away when he tried to hand it to her, Naja suddenly overwhelmed by the shame that he, of all people, saw her in such a state. 

“I-I’m good,” she hastily wiped her tears.

Erik ignored her as he pushed the glass into her hand. It shook slightly so he wrapped his own hand around hers to ensure she did not spill it. 

“Drink.” She could tell his word was a command and not a suggestion, though the stubborn part of her wanted to remind him that he was in no position to give her orders.

He watched her intently as she took long sips, the tension in her frame easing every time she swallowed. 

“So you gonna tell me what that was about? And what all this is?” 

“Missing kids in the capital… stolen by the King and his soldiers but no one knows where they are or why. Two girls were taken earlier this evening. Every day I’m here, more of them go missing, more lives ruined and there’s nothing I can do.”

“The dream?” 

“I c-couldn’t sleep cause of the s-storm,” she gestured toward the window. “A-and finding out about the girls so I started pouring over my notes. Must’ve dozed off a-and… A-and I was back at my house there and I walked outside and… All their parents were outside, screaming a-and crying about how I couldn’t find them o-or save them. How no one cared about them. But I do… I c-care. I just… I pour over this mess every single night and I can’t…” she gestured at the mess on her bed. “I can’t figure it out. I can’t find them.” 

“Why you puttin’ that on yourself?” His thumb wiped one of her tears. 

“Because if I don’t… who will, Erik? I tried but I can’t… I can’t just watch and report. It’s not… it’s not me.” 

He shook his head. “I ain’t an idiot like T. I know you ain’t built for that watch dog shit. I am asking, why is it only on you to find them?”

She crossed her legs, tugging the blanket around her bare arms. She was not cold but something about the vulnerability made her shiver, shake. It also did not help that thunder and lightning raged outside. She hated storms, ever since she was a child. 

“Gotta find some way to earn some of my soul back,” she grimaced. She leaned back against the headboard. “I don’t regret it. I’d lead the same life over again if given the choice.” The conviction in her voice was resolute and unwavering. “Everything I’ve ever done was for our people and this country. But… It haunts me, all the suffering of this world that I ignored for years because it had nothing to do with the mission or serving Wakanda. These kids?” She picked up the stack of photos on the bed and handed them to him. “They aren’t Wakandan but does that mean their lives mean less? That they do not deserve our resources to find them? Save them? And if I can’t do it with all the resources and tech and everything we have that no one else on this planet does… what did I survive this long for then? I spent the better part of my life using those resources to take lives, I just want to spend whatever time I have left saving them.” 

Erik bowed his head. He understood the feeling, the ways in which the complex lives they chose haunted them day in and day out. But he had to learn how to make peace with it all. And she did too. 

“Naja… listen to me. Probably the last person you want advice from but I might be one of the only people ‘round here who get it. I killed a lot more people than you for a lot less righteous reasons. For revenge and to satisfy rage, not for country and all that shit. And I probably got more pleasure from it than you did. And that shit still haunts me too. I stayed here to save whatever pieces of my soul were left. I get it. But you… The girl I knew wanted to be a War Dog to help people and add to the world, not subtract from it. That girl ain’t dead. Maybe you just buried her beneath barriers to stop someone from ever hurtin’ you again. Because being a cold, unfeelin’ spy is less painful. Believe me, I tried that shit too. But our old selves always demand air eventually, Naja. And maybe this,” he took the photos out of her hand. “Is that air.” 

Fuck, I hate him, she though to herself. One thing that never changed about Erik was he knew exactly what to say, exactly what she needed to be whole again. This moment reminded her of the first time she and Erik slept together. They did not do anything but it was still the night she realized how utterly and insanely in love with him she was. It was a night not unlike this one, a summer storm keeping her up to the wee hours of the night. She had called him, expecting him to keep her company till she dozed off. But instead, he commandeered a jeep and was outside her window 20 minutes later. She buried herself in his chest while he offered her soothing words and stories until she fell asleep. 

He had always been her rock, her emotional constant when she was in pain. Part of her hated herself for still needing that from anyone, but particularly for craving it from him. 

“That girl’s gone, Erik,” she muttered, trying to regain some semblance of control in that moment. She could not remember the last time she was vulnerable with someone and she was not particularly interested in doing it now. “Time and life killed her. This is me now.” 

“If that girl was really gone, you would not be screamin’ yourself awake with nightmares over kids you don’t know. We can be as cold and unfeelin’ as we wanna be but who we were back then is  still there. And there’s nothin’ wrong with that. I thought the girl you were was pretty dope anyway,” he pushed her braids behind her shoulder with a smile. “I know you ain’t gonna go back to sleep so explain it to me.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

“You ain’t goin’ back to sleep with all that outside.” The wind and thunder seemed to pick up on cue as he spoke. At her surprised expression he shrugged. “I remember everything about you.” 

Her voice hitched slightly as she studied him, she felt all of it. So much love and adoration in his eyes that clashed with everything he had once made her believe about herself. A voice in her mind cautioned her with loud echoing words. 

He doesn’t love you, he doesn’t care for you. He never did. 

But everything in the way he studied her, the way he touched her, the way he intimately remembered everything about her she desperately tried to forget signaled that he did. But she learned the hard way where trusting Erik got her: years of agony, pain, and guilt for choices his actions forced her to make that she did not know if she could ever forgive him for. She hated how he slowly chipped away at the villainous image she had created of him. It was easy to hate a villain, but whatever he was now? The duality of being both her villain and her savior? That was an emotional gray area that she had no interest in living in. 

“I’m not worth remembering or sticking around for, remember?” She responded, her only defense to protect herself was to hit low. Though her words did not have the sharpness she intended. Instead they just sounded how she felt when she heard them: heartbroken.

And the blow landed but Erik did not let it deter him. She deserved to land a cheap shot or two, he deserved it. “I can’t undo the past. But you can let me atone for it by helpin’ you out now. If the Nigandans are plannin’ somethin’, I should know about it.” He decided to omit the real reason why he also needed to know what the Royal Family was orchestrating. That reality was a long ways off. “Besides, another pair of eyes might be exactly what you need. Let me help you, Naja.” 

She did not want to say yes and give him more opportunities to get close to her. However, the lives of these children and families were more important than her pride, even she knew that.

“Fine. But this changes nothing between us,” she warned as she shifted the materials on her bed around so she could walk him through everything in order. 

“I’d expect nothing less,” he remarked. 

An hour passed by the time Naja finished reviewing all the materials and evidence with him. 

“So? What do you think?” 

He shook his head. “Defintiely somethin’s goin’ on. But to stop the peace talks or get Wakanda to intervene, you gotta have more than this. And that takes time.” 

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I know, I know. I just don’t know how much time these kids have.” 

Erik rubbed her knee, trails of fire and heat cascading up her body at his touch. She awkwardly shifted her leg out of the way to avoid his grasp. She refused to fall, not again.  

“I’m gonna help you. T got me working the peace talks on my end now. Maybe with your undercover work and my spot in the negotiations, we can piece it all together. And maybe, if I help you bring these kids home, we can at least be friends?” 

“Don’t hold your breath,” she muttered under her breath, which made Erik chuckle. 

“I won’t.” 

“But thank you. Seriously,” she squeezed his hand gently, a spark igniting between them before she tore it away. “Umm…I should try to go back to bed. Sorry for missing our meeting time tonight.” 

“All good. Night, Naja.” 

“Night, Erik.” 

Naja watched him start to head to the door, more loud cracks of thunder echoing around her. Something in her just broke, cracked her wide open and the girl she once was demanded air, freedom. And the only air she wanted was him. She knew it was a bad idea. It was the dumbest idea she had ever had. But she was about to make it. The night had stripped her bare, left her scared and boneless. And she was tired of dealing with all of that alone. 

“Erik!” She called after him as he opened her door. He stopped and turned to look at her, tears streaming down her face. “Stay.” 

That one word knocked the wind out of him. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, Naja.” He forced the words out, even though it was painful to do so. He wanted to stay, desperately so. But he knew she would hate herself and him in the morning if he did. 

“I don’t want… that,” she clarified, though that was a lie. She did want that, she wanted him to fuck her senseless so she forgot everything else. But she was strong enough to resist that. She was not strong enough to resist the part of her that just needed someone there. “I just… don’t want to be alone tonight. Please.”

That was all Erik needed to hear. He walked back over to her bed and slipped in beside her, his strong arms pulling her onto his chest. She curled up into his side and immediately relaxed, no longer jumping or tensing when loud thunder rolled through. They had done this countless times as teens and it felt just as easy and simple as it was back then. 

Even Erik felt at peace, his usual restlessness gone as they slept soundly in each other’s arms. 

When Naja woke up the next morning, she was shocked to find her body pressed against a hard chest. Before she could even open her eyes, the events of the night came back to her. 

What the fuck did you do? A voice accused her. 

She immediately extracted herself from Erik’s arms, causing him to shift and open his eyes. 

Awkward silence stretched between them as they stared at each other. Naja did not know what to say. One bad night and she had invited him into her bed? How sad, how cliche, how fucking stupid could she be? 

As if he could sense or see her internal downward spiral, Erik immediately climbed out of her bed and offered. “If you don’t want it to mean anythin’, then it doesn’t have to. Just a friend comforting a friend and I don’t plan on tellin’ anyone. We’re good, Naja.” 

Except… it did mean something. She could lie and say it didn’t but it did. It meant something that he came to her rescue, that he stayed even though she gave him no real reason to show her any kindness. It all meant something to her. As much as she did not want it to, it did. That rope that held her from falling into the sea of him? Well, it was so close to giving out and there was no materials to reinforce it. 

Last night was the safest she had felt in years… in the arms of the man she thought she hated most on this planet. Was she so prideful that she could reasonably ignore that? Erik said he wanted to prove that he changed… perhaps she should give him that chance. She was not betraying who she was now by doing so. She was honoring that some part of her, however small, still needed him in some way. And if 15 years of pretending that was not the case did not make the feeling go away, perhaps it was time to acknowledge that the feeling simply would never go away. 

“Thank you. See you at breakfast,” she whispered as she hugged her robe around her body. She felt exposed and not just physically. 

He nodded and started walking toward the door. However, before he could leave, she said, “For dinner… no where we went when we were together the first time.” 

He paused and glanced back at her. Naja took a tentative step toward him. 

“Every cell in my body is telling me not to do this. But… you said you’ve changed. So show me. But this is it… this dinner you fought for is it. The only chance you’ll get again to show me something different than the Erik who broke me. Don’t make me regret trusting you again.” 

“You won’t. And that’s a promise I can keep. See you at breakfast.

Tag list: @miyuhpapayuh @pipsqueak-98 @injerafiend @themakingsofdion @lishabaybee @certifiedlesbianbaddie @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @dangerous-history @roguekiki @mysteryuz @shyblackgurl

***

A/N: Alright Naja is giving him a chance? Sort of? lol drop a comment and let me know what you thought and how you think their dinner is going to go! As always, thanks for reading!

[gingerjunhan]

boyfriend headcannons - kim jungsu

☆彡 letting the delusions win once again so Jungsu stans come get y’all juice!!!!!

word count: 713 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: all caps used, he’s blushing, I’m blushing, we’re all blushing, let me know if I missed anything!! 🩷

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starting off by saying that in my head Jungsu is the most Boyfriend™️ member of xh and nobody can change my mind!!!!!!!!

he’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen??? okay moving on

he strikes me as a romantic!!!

not like, Seungmin type of romantic though (although there can be some overlap)

he’s the type of romantic that knows your coffee order by heart

watches “chick flicks” with you over and over again

always puts your needs before his

willing to drop everything for you

gives you his hoodie the second he sees you shiver

does absolutely nothing without asking if you’re okay/ comfortable with it!!!!

that type of romantic

“that’s literally the bare minimum-“ SHUT UP it's the little things that count

anyways moving on

I know I’ve mentioned this before in a fic somewhere but Jungsu is so so so SO respectful and he just wants to make sure everyone is happy and safe so I can see him wanting to have a long, in-depth conversation with you about boundaries

you’re both in this relationship because you love and care for one another, and he’s not gonna let you forget it!!

he is so madly in love with you it physically hurts him

like,,,, YOU chose HIM???? he can’t wrap his mind around it

he knew you were “the one” shortly into your relationship

hype man

imagine him wrapping his arms around you while you’re looking at your outfit and he just makes eye contact with you in the mirror and hits you with the “you look so pretty today baby” and then gives you a little kiss wherever he can reach UGHHHHHH THIS MAN

MATCHING OUTFITS MATCHING OUTFITS

“Oh you’re wearing blue today? Okay good to know.” and then he immediately goes and changes

I can picture Jungsu as the type who finds it really hard to sleep without you

like,, he needs a cuddle buddy

but in public?

people would never guess that

I talked about this in my PDA fic, but I don’t think Jungsu is big into PDA

like, aww you’re holding hands? that’s enough 🧍🏻‍♀️

he gives me the vibe that he doesn’t like seeing other people’s PDA so he doesn’t do it either LMAOOO (me too)

okay I talked about this with Gunil so I feel the need to bring it up again

your family loves him

if you have siblings or cousins who are younger than you?? they ADORE HIM

Jungsu gives me lovely big brother energy and in my head I think he’s be great with kids (ignore those Rock The World episodes lol)

give this man a toddler I need to see it

imagine coming home to Jungsu and your kid and Jungsu is dressed up in some silly costume, too wrapped up in the child’s land of make-believe to realize you walked in the door

he’s just so sweet :(

okay okay okay so if you couldn’t tell by the fact that I think I’ve mentioned them in every single Jungsu fic I’ve written… I love Jungsu’s broad shoulders

Jungsu is just so big and strong and I’m swooning right now

he’s so tall and pretty and UGH what if I cry

you can’t reach something?

he’s picking you up

you’re feet hurt?

piggyback ride

he’s giving you the Princess Treatment™️ truly

I also feel like Jungsu gives the best hugs in xh

those arms of his 😵‍💫 hugging machines

the feeling of being wrapped up in his strong arms and broad shoulders oh my god

safety

he’s like if a fuzzy blanket was a guy

he’s just so awesome I love Jungsu dude

I can also imagine having some good late night talks with Jungsu

telling secrets and sharing stories

he’s not afraid to be emotional in front of you!

within the first month of your relationship you saw him cry and tbh he’s so real for that

he can put up the front that he’s all tough or whatever but that facade cracks with you around

he’s just so blushy and giggley with you!

Jungsu totally believes that you bring out the best in him, and he’s so glad to be with you

he commonly fantasizes about his future with you

he’s so excited to spend forever with you :(((

taglist⁉️: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , comment to be added!