#and I noticed and was like uh I feel incredibly vulnerable and weird right now

[sassmill]

Extremely unnerving when you’re suddenly aware of a spirit when you thought you were alone. Not in an ominous way more like uh. Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there. Um.

[ogravensimp]

this one is for@mistkissedmoon a lil more Dad!Constantine with a ft. from Jason Blood and John would be so terrible at taking care of ppl but still like really care, so I hope I captured that feeling in this

“This was your big emergency?”

Jason Blood gave a blank stare to the British man across from him.

He didn’t usually just drop everything to attend to someone; especially if that person was John Constantine, but ever since the exorcist decided to take care of the Gem of Scath he proposed it would be a good idea for John to keep him on speed dial.

He didn’t actually expect John to use said number.

Constantine was a demon expert in his own right. Jason believed that he was right to assume that the only reason his help would be sought after was only if the apocalypse had begun.

He felt a nerve in his temple twitch in annoyance (and, ashamedly in disappointment).

It's just that when John rang him and pressed for him to come to the House of Mystery, he had simply been expecting more...destruction. Maybe some blood and fire raining from the sky, the earth itself cracking open to release eldritch horrors of all kinds or even complete ripping of the fabrics of reality.

Anything along those lines would have justified his presence being required, but instead, he was met with-

“achoo!”

Jason looked down at the small form below him.

The spawn of evil incarnate was smaller than he thought it would be. If one ignored the glowing red gem wedged into its forehead, it could easily fool for another harmless 7-year old girl.

Especially as it laid half-dazed in its bed, staring up at the ceiling in a lucid trance. With only half its face poking out from under their star themed blanket, it sniffled pitifully due to the snot dripping out its flushed nose.

The room was perfectly mid-temperature, but the child has so drenched in sweat that even the towel on top of its forehead had over-soaked but yet it still shivered as if it was below -0 degrees.

Was the level of the child’s symptoms extreme? Yes.

Was it worth calling him for? Definitely not.

The daughter of Trigon was sick, yes, but it was obviously just the flu.

“That’s what I‘ve been saying.”

Jason turned to the source of the voice—a young woman stood in the doorway and held a tray of what seemed to be cups and bowls.

John had introduced her as Zed and he had just assumed they were in a relationship— to focused on the assumed threat to try to examine their personal lives.

Maybe he should’ve guessed this excursion would be a waste of time by Zed’s expressions. When he arrived she had shot him nothing but apologetic looks. At first, Jason believed the worst laid behind the doors he was led to but as he now knows, that was not the case.

“That idiot thinks it’s some paranormal curse,”, Zed huffed as she sent a glare at the blond man who began to try and defend himself.

“It's been weeks and she's still under the weather. You think Beelzebub gets the bloody sniffles?!”

“But a child of her age would! Especially one who reads in the tub and doesn't dry her hair before going outside in August,” Zed rolled her eyes as she spoke as if the answer was obvious—and they were, "maybe if you stopped treating her as the destroyer of worlds and instead as a 7-year-old, you won't have wasted the poor guys time."

Jason couldn't help but internally agree with her words.

John continued his defence, "All I'm saying is when I got a cold, I just carried on with my day maybe a bit foggy up there but hardly half-dead like Blackbird over 'ere."

Another eye roll from Zed was the only reply.

Approaching them, she extended the tray towards Jason. He gave a look at the cup of tea and noticed it seemed to be next to another 'sweat towel' in a bowl, he cringed a little before rejecting the offer.

Zed just shrugged before dropping the tray onto a side table and drinking the cup herself. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, her gaze was soft as she stared down at the child, her hands ran through the child short dark tresses in a comforting manner.

Jason studied how she gently cupped the back of the Gem of Scath’s head and raised it, picking up a cup of water from the side and bringing it to the demon’s mouth and it drank with obedience.

The more Jason watched, the less he could even continue to refer to this child as a demon.

Etrigan was a demon—looked like one too.

How could he use the same term he'd use to describe the bastard in him, to describe this tiny looking thing before him? And though he could sense the hellish magic pouring out of her, for now, she was harmless.

"Alright, summon him out."

John's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He gave him a perplexed look before asking, "Excuse me?"

"Etrigan. Your demon buddy," the way John looked and spoke, you could tell he saw no issue with his request, "Just wanna confirm from a primary source whether if this is something worse or natural way of life."

Jason was flabbergasted, 'was this why he was called?!'

John sighed.

Actually looking peeved by Jason's confusion.

To the side, he heard Zed's chuckle as she began to switch the towels on the girls head, "told you he wouldn't do it."

"Oh bog off," John retorted back before turning back to him and placing a hand on Jason's shoulder, "Listen, it's either you or I visit ol' Luci and I'm simply not really...eager to have that encounter. So do me a favour here, and just bloody say the rhyme."

Jason looked at the hand on his shoulder like it was a parasite before smacking it off. Taking a breath to compose himself, he turned to the exorcist, " I assure you, there is nothing Etrigan can assist you with that I cannot also offer."

"A huge fuck-off sword?"

Jason glared, "Let me see the child," he spat—obviously ignoring the previous statement.

John put his hands up in surrender before indicating with a turn of his head to the child who had actually risen during their conversation and was now sitting upright—well, slouched and she was staring half-lidded at the wall with the only sign she was awake being her harsh breaths.

He bent down as to be in her level of sight and stuck his hand out, "Hello, my name is Jason Blood, you must be..." "Raven." "-yes, thank you, Zed. They tell me you are a bit under the weather?"

Jason realized halfway that he never learnt the girl's name and had simply just been referring to her as the Gem of Scath. He felt a tinge of guilt for his rudeness, but the dazed stare the girl gave him was confirmation that she was barely conscious enough to even notice.

He also realized it was ridiculous to try to shake a child's hand and was bout to retract it when he felt a pair of smaller ones latch onto his fingers.

Looking up he met a sleepy pair of amethyst eyes trying to focus on him, "N-n-nwot sick...jus-jhwust..uh sleepy and...cwold," with a voice that was softer than a whisper, plus the slurring of her words due to the fever, she was basically incomprehensible.

He was going to try and retract his hand again when he felt something soft come in contact with it. He looked down to see that she had placed her face in the palm of it and wrapped around it like a snake.

With a single muttering of, "...warm...like hellfire", she fell asleep with his hand still under her.

He looked at Constantine.

Not really sure what to do, but the con-man only grinned before giving him a tap on the back, "Good lad Jason, put her to sleep. Even I couldn't do that, let alone Etrigan. Guess I'll leave it to you."

And with that, Zed and John stood up and began to exit the room.

Jason was still in shock to even speak; so before he realized what they were doing, they already switched off the lights and closed the door with a soft click.

He simply stared into the darkness, the only illumination being the moon and stars outside.

Sighing, looked down at the fiend holding his hand prisoner and contemplated yanking her off. She was small. it would incredibly easy to flick her away and then he could simply depart home...but then he felt a squeeze.

As if the girl sensed his thoughts, she clung harder onto his limb like it was a lifeline.

She looked truly at peace right now; her harsh breaths were now nothing but puffs and she was less...sweaty. Demon spawn or not, the girl was no more vulnerable than a newborn fawn at the moment. Jason just didn't have the heart to disturb her peace for his own gain.

Another sigh could be heard in the silent room.

'Maybe an hour longer won't hurt but after that, never accept a favour for John Constantine again.'

hope you like it, feels weird writing characters that aren't just raven and my other faves, hope I didn't make anyone ooc

[saltpepperbeard]

Ravenous ~An Everlark One-Shot~

A/N: Well hello hello again lol! A bit weird, huh? I don’t know why exactly I had a sudden surge of motivation, but quite honestly, I’m not mad at it. While the shot I wrote a few days back was a more original idea of sorts, this one was an “anonymous” suggestion. A rather EYEBROW RAISING SUGGESTION™ if you know what I’m saying ha! But for whatever reason, dialogue and ideas started flowing, and here we are! Just couldn’t help but explore Katniss desiring to Spice Things Up a bit. With that being said shjdkhskdls-

Disclaimer: This fic contains NC-17 related material, but y’all been knew. Y’ALL KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GETTING INTO LMAO.

And without further adoooooo...

Ravenous

It’s happening again. Our bedroom seems to rival that of the setting sun, the two dancing and paralleling. Just as the clouds and sky melt into orange, I too, find myself at its mercy. Just as the sun plunges beneath the horizon, so too, do our pelvises atop each other’s. Just as it sets fire to the grasses and trees as it plummets from sight, so too, do our roaming mouths and hands against each other’s bodies.

And just as the sunset is habitual, expected, so is the explosion within. It’s like clockwork. It’s like the mighty star’s journey across the sky. A soft, inviting, and consistent brightness is maintained throughout the day, before utterly exploding into color and passion as ebony surges forth.

The newness and its subsequent excitement must be why it’s so incredibly enticing, so normal in our schedule. To think, I used to be one with the dawn. The coldness, the solitude, and the call for survival...all were my essence. Now though, do I dance and take pleasure in the dusk, flooding with fiery color before all runs dark.

Not that I’m complaining in the slightest. No, I’m a medley of breathy giggles, mewled moans, and messy kisses. The usual, the expected, and the blissful.

So a subsequent shift in the cycle, in the ecstatic repetition, does indeed throw me when it presents.

Losing myself in Peeta each and every night allows my hunger to break free, spilling forth after being locked up for so long. It gnaws, it feasts, and it satisfies, before settling back to a hush, properly quenched. His initial touches, caresses, and kisses do marvels at igniting the starting flames. His following motions and salacious actions work wonders at surging the fire to a roar. And then his sweetness dampens the blaze into finality, into exhausted ashes.

But tonight...Tonight, it’s different. It feels...wrongfully intense.

I am not hungry- I am ravenous. It roars within me as if it’s never been satiated at all. It howls, screams, gnashing for a deeper satisfaction. The area between my legs aches almost painfully so, and the heat surging through my core snarls that it won’t be bested so easily.

Such a sensation almost feels instinctual, animalistic even. And with that notion crossing my mind, an odd picture presents itself within my subconscious. A symbolic representation? Or is it a solution, a suggestion that the deeper confines of my hankering body has pulled up? Either way, it’s bizarre, and subsequently earns a deep blush to my cheeks.

The image of a stag mounting a doe.

It’s something I’ve seen on rare occasion while hunting, a deeply intimate and almost sacred moment birthed from nature’s way. But translating such an intrusive image into our bedroom, into the current situation, and connecting the dots between the symbolism and the craving...

...Oh.

Oh.

My cheeks flush impossibly more so.

What an oddity. Peeta more than satisfies me. He gives me something no one else could possibly come close to offering. He takes me to realms unthinkable, and charts depths once-unexplored. And yet, does my body yearn.

What a foreign desire. I never could have pictured myself in such a position- or...intensely aching for one, rather. With carnal intimacy being so new to me, to the both of us, I never expected my body to erect anything of the sort. But I suppose, the deeper and deeper we traverse in one another, the more and more we’ll unlock. I guess there are still things to be discovered about each other, and complex layers of intimacy waiting to be unlocked...

“...Katniss?”

As if my cheeks couldn’t grow any more fiery.

I must have been quite disconnected, lost in thought and libidinous imagination. My grey eyes rapidly blink to break from the haze, but the desire still careens within. Venturing out from the fog reveals Peeta once more though, his beautiful, bare, handsome form hovering atop me. He too, is flushed, small beads of sweat glistening atop his scarred skin to compliment the fiery sheen within his darkened eyes.

But where there would be normally be a crooked smile, or an agape expression of pleasure, there instead exists confusion, concern.

When our eyes finally meet with clarity, he reaches to softly cup my cheek.

“Hey...” he murmurs, his voice still husky, breathy, “You alright?”

I cannot help but swallow hard. How the hell am I supposed to vocalize such a thing? Is it too taboo to ask for? The idea of...Peeta...taking me from behind?

I’m a mess, shutting my eyes and turning my face into his hand, as if to hide myself away.

“Hey...” His voice sounds more concerned, and a bit warmer. Some of the huskiness has disappeared too. And subsequently, a spark of desperation alights within me; perhaps because the hunger screeches at me to maintain heat.

“Sweetheart-”

Softening sentiments are cut off by a carnal kiss, my body piloting me to fight the dip. I lace my hands around the back of his head and pull his stunned form closer, breathily moaning through the connection. When I feel his lips begin to part though, when I practically taste the confused question forming on his tongue...

I know I have no choice. I know it’s now or never. And if I could stare the hunger dead on, if I could address its call and dive into vulnerabilities with Peeta before...

Surely I can do this too. Hopefully.

“Peeta?” I quickly interject.

I expect him to remain close, but just as ferocious desire pilots me, so too does compassionate concern steer him. He leans as far back as he can with my hands laced through his hair, staring with those inquisitive, stunning blues.

“...Katniss?”

“I...I...”

Just as the first time we delighted in one another, my throat threatens to lock up from anxiety, from fear of the unknown. Just as before, I find it horribly difficult to vocalize my wants. But in knowing that soft and concerned stare, in understanding the eyes that expectantly wait, and in feeling far fierier than previous times, I find the strength I need to produce a voice.

“...Can we...try something different?”

Nerves drive me to bite my swollen lip, as if Peeta’s going to react poorly or something equivalent. But as truly expected, he blinks the concern away before the tension visibly melts above me.

“Oh! Yeah, uh...sure,” he murmurs, beginning to smile despite lingering bits of confusion still present in his brows, “Is that why you...?”

“Yes...”

“Oh,” he breathes, chuckling softly before leaning back in for another kiss. He nestles close once more, our bare forms pressing and creating small hints of tantalizing friction. Be it the throbbing within, or the very present feeling of his erection between us, I break the kiss with quickened pants.

Unbothered now, and in a better understanding towards my desperation, he moves to kiss and bite at my neck. My hips and eyes both roll, the intense lust leaving me less bothered by the various noises sounding from my throat.

Peeta too, must be quickly getting tugged back; I feel him twitch before he softly grunts into the tender skin of my collar.

“What would you like?” he huskily whispers, topping off the question by tracing my bone with his tongue.

Between nerves and the sensations he’s dizzying me with, I briskly shake my head.

“Don’t make me say it...” I wheeze.

I feel his mouth turn upwards against my skin, and he chuckles before drawing forth artistry, painting his way up my neck and cheeks with brushing lips.

“Alright...” he says thickly, and I think I can feel him quivering slightly, “Show me then?”

I tense, but catching his stare grounds me. Beyond the drippings of ebony lust and fiery coals, I can see that beautiful understanding, that adoration with zero judgement. It’s what drove me to explore initially, and thus, does it fuel me once more.

My hands come to rest upon his muscular chest, quivering ever so slightly as I give a gesturing push. He follows my direction without hesitation, moving until we’re both sitting up on the bed. Another bout of hesitance grips me, but upon seeing the sight of him, heavily engorged and nearly flush against his stomach, I break through once again.

My stare manages to break to a necessity then, gazing upon his amputated leg with another bite of my lip.

“Your prosthetic...”

I can see his breath catch, watching his chest heave as I momentarily avoid his stare.

“...I need it?” he whispers.

I can only nod, and he thankfully doesn’t press, scurrying off to retrieve and reattach it. I’m piloted once more; my body seizes the opportunity to get into position while he’s not looking. Though my heart pounds something terrible, though trembles alight in my limbs, I roll onto my hands and knees, poised and ready for what I crave.

Peeta’s to my backside now, so I cannot see his reaction to what I’m offering. I can certainly hear it though, as well as almost feel it, the room seemingly spiking in temperature the moment he notices.

“O-oh...”

I tremble in both deep anticipation and tension, still unable to look at him. There’s a bit of pause though, and right when I think I’ve made a mistake, I feel the bed shift with the re-introduction of his weight. My thighs clench something terrible at his presence behind me, and I feel my entire lower half quivering.

Made even worse when Peeta groans my name.

“Katniss...”

The amount of lust is incredible. I could almost rocket myself backwards upon him. It’s wild, and hard to imagine how I wound up in such a position. But through the salaciousness, through the smoke clouding my brain, nerves still manage to peek.

“Is...this okay?” I shakily whisper.

“Yeah...” he breathes, and I nearly run woozy at the sensation of his hands ghosting my curves, “Is this...?”

I almost move beyond my own control, thrusting my hips backward and placing myself into his grasp. It’s his turn to tremble, and he groans yet again.

“God...Katniss...”

I’m his craft once more. His hands grasp me, knead me, squeezing my voluptuous backside as he would when he prepares dough. And just as the touch readies dough for heat, it too, sets me utterly ablaze.

Unbridled moans and mewls sound from my throat at his massage, my legs spreading wider and my back arching further. There’s barely a connection between anxiety and my ravenous core anymore, hunger almost entirely at the helm.

“God...” Peeta moans again, and such a noise pushes me into raw desperation.

“Peeta...” I whimper in a tone so unlike my own, “Peeta...”

We’re on the same plane. He understands immediately. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just as hungry as I am, made raw by the sight before him.

So he quickly rectifies the situation. I feel the bed shift, before he brings a shaky hand to grasp one of my hips. I’m barely breathing, barely able to process with such deep anticipation. His following words almost don’t reach me, what with the beautifully torturous feeling of his head just barely brushing betwixt my folds.

“Okay...I love you, Katniss...”

I somehow wheeze, somehow manage, those words landing when nothing else can.

“I love you too- AH!”

I’m no stranger to the feeling of Peeta sheathing himself deep within me, to holding him snuggly and tightly in a space reserved just for him. We’ve danced in it and dazzled in each other so much lately that it’s, in fact, almost become something of a second nature.

So it’s definitely strange that just a mere change can have electrifying, incredible effects.

The cry from his entrance was utterly unavoidable; he feels deeper and heavier than ever before. I’m stunned at how different it feels, at the intensity behind it. He’s within familiar grounds, and yet it feels entirely new.

I’m dazed, but my hunger is utterly elated. It sings at the feeling, rejoices, driving me to slide myself backwards against him, swallowing him impossibly deeper.

His groan intersects beautifully with mine, the both of us likely relishing in the sensations. When I dare to ease my hips forward again, I feel Peeta’s other hand reach to grasp. With his hold complete, he pulls me back as he thrusts deeply.

And I already find that I’m quickly losing control, everything working to utterly unravel me.

The strokes, so deep and reaching, quickly earn a stream of incoherence from my hanging mouth. I moan and whimper and grunt a plenty, weaving a tapestry of pleasured nothings.

“Mmm...Oh, God...Peeta...”

There’s also something about this that strangely seems to amplify, something that makes it the most different from our previous sessions: I cannot see him. I cannot see the beautiful, wrenched effort on his visage, nor can I steal the moans from his lips. I cannot latch myself to his tender neck, nor can I run my fingers through his ashy locks.

It’s just the sensation of him within me. Nothing more but his powerful drives and our precious connection.

No wonder it’s so raw, so animalistic indeed.

But perhaps, not mutual.

Where I would expect Peeta to take off, to drive with reckless abandon, he instead remains...oddly consistent with his glides. They’re heavenly, and reaching, but unamplified. In fact, instead of speeding up as expected, he seemingly slows within me.

Such a turn, a difference in the usual chain of events, is enough to whip my head around. It’s my turn to furrow with confusion and concern, squinting through the intense mindfog to finally lay eyes upon him.

Which ends up being a blessing and a curse; the sight of him in such a position is almost enough to send me reeling further. Seeing him kneeling, grasping my hips, panting with reddened cheeks, and disappearing deep within...

A shiver runs up the length of my spine, exiting through my mouth as my voice just barely manages to quiver his name.

“...P-Peeta?”

“I...Um...”

It’s like we’ve switched places, what with him being apprehensive and me existing in a realm of thirst and confusion. Just as before, a cock of the brow and a building question is what spurs the opposite party into explanation.

“I’m...It’s going to sound...cheesy, okay? But I uh...It’s...Different I guess, not being able to...look at your face. Or kiss you. Or...”

He shifts himself a bit as he reaches for my face with a hand, effectively sending himself inward at a deep, torturous angle. It drives me strangely mad, my eyes rolling and my throat resonating with a squeak. It feels so foreign, to be reduced to this. And in my state, in my heightened desperation, I find myself blurting without much control.

“-Keep going.”

He freezes then, inside and out, looking upon me with widened blues. Such an expression mildly grounds me, offering a pang of guilt and a subsequent apology to follow.

“Sorry...” I wheeze, “I...I didn’t mean...If...you’re not...”

I’m a mess with my attempts to breathily stammer. But just as further guilt begins to bud, just as I fear I’ve forced him into an uncomfortable place, he gives such an unexpected and strong jerk of his hips that I yelp into the tense space.

When the shock leaves my system, when the static clears my brain, I’m able to see him beginning to smile once more, a bit more lecherous than before.

“Hmm...You know, different...might not be so bad then...”

“But-”

Again, he tortuously cuts me off, giving another strong jerk and sending me careening.

“Peeta!” I exclaim, looking at him with widened eyes, trembling legs, and a stunned soul.

“Because...” he grunts, softly squeezing and kneading my hips, “You like this, don’t you?”

He shifts then, focusing on slowly feeding himself into my depths, effectively earning a low grunt from his throat. A noise that’s quickly overpowered by my own, an open-mouthed moan as I squirm against the mattress, against his lovely torment.

“Peeta...”

“Yeah? You like it? Hmm, love?” 

My eyes flash at his darkened vocals, followed by a bite of my lip to hush the rolling whimper. Something is most definitely in the air tonight. The sun surely exploded in its descent. We’ve never really been so...raw with each other, so driven and demanding.

But it seems neither of us have any qualms. Even my worry towards pressuring Peeta into an unfavorable session seems to back away, what with his ebony murmurs and expressions so evident. We seem to be re-aligning, re-joining each other on the same plane of passion.

Thus, do I desperately nod, at his complete disposal. I slide myself backwards then, easing until I’m practically touching his pelvis, panting and gritting at the extent of penetration.

“I’ve forever to kiss you..." he whispers.

Please...Please please.

I’m hardly with it enough to question the strangeness behind the newfound begging, simply squirming and existing entirely within the desperate space.

“...But not long enough to pleasure you so...”

Thus, miraculously, do any last bits of wall come tumbling down.

And I’m no longer in our bedroom. I’m within droves of ardent fire. I’m traversing the very surface of our sun. I’m in a place so foreign, a state so delightfully insane, where none have ever brought me before.

All from the sudden, strong, and intense reaches of him deep within.

Oh, how I fall apart. How I deliciously unravel. Being so pent up, so oddly starving, the hunger gorges and instantly sets me alight. Just as it screamed before, I too, find myself vocalizing with such strength.

It’s a medley, an absolutely chaotic medley of passion. Beyond my cries and his grunts, I can hear his pelvis slapping against my back side again and again. Beyond the flashes and shivers in my vision, I can see our bed hammering from the force he’s inflicting. Beyond the heat and pounding stream of blood, I can feel him hitting places so new and intense.

And it’s everything. I love him. I adore him. And I cherish the connection we have, the way we can send each other directly into the heavens. I never could have imagined. Even mere months ago, I never could have imagined.

“Gggh...Katniss!”

His deep grunt coupled with the groan of my name is enough to break me from my overwhelmed thoughts; the dig of his fingers into my hips is enough to ground me completely. I cannot escape the ungodly pleasure now. I am present, and at its full mercy.

And when a thrust hits just so, when a piece of my glass cracks and threatens to shatter, it’s no wonder that my arms fall instantly gelatinous. I cry and toss my head back, sending a rolling ebony wave before my front half descends. I desperately grip the blankets, knotting the fabric with begging grunts and whines.

But it only continues to build, and build, and build, impossibly faster and impossibly deeper. Our souls are tangled, so very tangled, dancing and intertwining and refusing to let go. Naturally, I start to ascend, faster than I ever have before. The fire licks its way up my belly, caressing my jiggling breasts and-

...No, that’s his hand, reaching beneath to knead and massage, emboldened and salacious. My eyes roll something terrible, my hips even more so, more and more of the glass chipping away. He’s snarling, almost yelling; I know he’s so close too. But somehow, just as he always has, Peeta dashes through the chaos and holds me above all.

His wandering hand suddenly juts backwards, racing down my body before fingers find their prized destination. There’s a subsequent bolt of electricity at my core, followed by a heave of tension as cracks spiderweb throughout. I’m on the cliff, on the edge, writhing and seeing it shatter before me...

“Peet-”

The final note of his name shifts into that of a divine keen, elongated and reaching as my wings outstretch. I feel like I’ve never flown so high before. It feels as if though I breach the very reaches of our atmosphere, everything whited out and flashing with a dazzling array of color.

Surely I’m screaming. Surely I’m crying out with such forceful contractions wracking my system. But I can barely breathe, barely process. There’s nothing but this. Nothing but him.

Him- somewhere below, I can hear his desperate groans. He too, yelps like he’s attempting to hold on to the Earth, to stop such a rapid ascent into space. But with a distant, cracking yell, and with another push that drives me even higher, I welcome him into my flying embrace.

I hold onto him so tightly. I fly and dance and marvel in the closeness, in the connection we share. I soar hand in hand, his softness rivaling that of the cloud we pass. Before eventually, inevitability, we must return to a realm more frequented.

I land hard. My form essentially evaporates upon impact. The moment Peeta breaks our connection, the moment he releases my hips, I fall into a heap atop the blankets. It’s no surprise that I’m shivering, nor that I’m weeping, overwhelmed to the warmest, highest degree. I remain on my stomach, limbs sprawled every which way, continuing to pant and ride through the occasional aftershocks.

When the sound of my pounding heart departs from my ears, when I become more aware of my surroundings, I can hear Peeta on the bed behind me, heavily panting all the while. Surely he’s sitting back, likely riding the same lingering effects as I. 

But I need him. After almost selfishly delighting in such pleasures, I miss him. So I turn my head against the blankets, attempting to look in his direction as I reach with a hand.

“P-Peeta?”

Unsurprisingly, he understands. In mere seconds, he heaves himself beside me, flopping down atop the mattress. Though I’m utterly exhausted, and akin to jelly, I hoist myself onto my side and into his arms, our bodies as close as possible without the added element of fire.

And there, I snuggle, I caress, I kiss. I make up for the missed touches. He of course, reciprocates, the both of us tiredly offering all the affection we can muster between our shaking breaths. Soon enough, falling back into our usual patterns, we begin to smile. Then breathlessly giggle. Then speak and whisper sweet nothings through our exhausted exchanges.

“Oh...my God...Oh God...” I wheeze into one of our many kisses.

Peeta snickers a bit then, his hands beginning to softly rub circles against my bare back.

“I don’t...I don’t know what happened...what came over me...” I whisper, shying away to nestle my cheek against his.

He laughs more then, somehow managing to tug me even closer.

“Hooo, well...Whatever it was...I’m glad...I’m glad it did...”

I feel myself blushing, somewhat...shocked by the intensity of my actions. And in considering my behavior, in considering how ferocious the hunger was, it unsurprisingly reminds me of the likely sacrifice Peeta had to make in order to appease. I flush even harder, moving to hide my face against his perspiring shoulder.

“I’m sorry...” I murmur against his sweet skin.

“Hun?”

“I didn’t mean to- I mean, I didn’t...”

I of course, struggle through my words, through my explanation. I’ve never been good at saying something. But my love patiently waits, expectantly waits, continuing to softly rub me through the silence. As usual, his understanding anchors me, and I whimper the truth rather sheepishly.

“It just felt so good, Peeta...”

To my relief, he gives a hard, handsome laugh, rattling our tangled forms.

“That’s all I could ever hope for, sweetheart...” he replies with lingering chuckles, pressing his gentle lips to my dampened hair.

I sigh at the tender contact, but continue to push myself.

“Really though...I’m sorry...I didn’t...want to make you uncomfortable...”

“You didn’t.”

When I huff against his shoulder, he softly tugs me backwards, allowing our stares to connect once more.

“You didn’t, love. Clearly.” He chuckles a bit more, before falling back into his earnest tone. “Like I said, it was just...different, that’s all. I marvel in your beauty, you know.” 

When I scowl at him, at the compliment, he grins even wider.

“And yes, I’m used to seeing your face in this. But thankfully, every inch of you happens to be stunning.”

“Peeta...” I groan, feeling my cheeks flush something terrible beneath his onslaught of tender eloquence. Once more, he laughs, before leaning in to give me a quick kiss.

“I just got to address the less...frequented places,” he continues with a smirk, “Which after tonight, won’t stay that way for long, I’m sure.”

I huff, which again, earns another snicker coupled with a kiss. When we break away however, I find myself staring into those sparkling, warm blues. His expression shifts into something more gentle, more awed, surely catching the earnestness behind my stare. My hands reach up to cup his face, stroking my thumbs against his scarred yet softened skin.

“I did miss this, you know...” I whisper, topping my words off with a kiss to his nose.

“Well, I did say we have forever,” he replies with a growing, crooked grin.

“That’s not long enough for this either...”

I pull him into perhaps the softest, tenderest kiss of the night, one more fitting for the day than the dusk. It’s one I pour all my adoration into, of course having to verbally proclaim it all the same.

“I love you so much...” I murmur against his lips.

Once more, the connection breaks from the strength of his smile, delightfully warming body and soul before the sentiments are returned.

“And I love you...”

There we remain for numerous comfortable beats, continuing to lazily kiss and caress until the last of the sunlight disappears from the night sky. I find myself contemplating what lead to such an explosion, what lead to my desire firing off to such an extreme degree. Of course Peeta would be on the same wavelength, though the grinning question that breaks the silence gets me laughing and shoving his chest.

“You don’t...happen to have further tricks up your sleeve, do you?”

[nightshade-minho]

- Miracle -

- felix x reader / changbin x reader

- part of @hanflix ‘s christmas collab

- warnings: breaking up, cheating, fingering.

- wc: 3k

You hummed a Christmas carol to yourself happily as you danced about your apartment.

It’d been a while since you’d spent Christmas with your boyfriend, so you were understandably excited.

You’d spent all afternoon cooking up an amazing dinner, all of his favorites included. You hadn’t cooked in ages, so it had definitely been quite a bit of work.

You didn’t mind though. Anything for him.

You glanced at the clock again as you adjusted an ornament on the tree, one which had both your faces on it. Grinning widely, you moved the gift box under it to the side a little. Satisfied, you made your way to the couch, staring at the door as you waited for the bell to ring.

To say you were excited would be an understatement. Not only were you anticipating spending this evening with him, you were also quite excited for the events that would follow. It’d been so long since you had any kind of relief- you were incredibly horny.

Your clothing reflected that as well. You’d purposely chosen a strapless dress that would clearly show off the lace of the crimson lingerie you had underneath. You’d seen the pair in a window last week and just had to have it. You felt so pretty in it, like a gift just waiting to be unwrapped.

A few minutes passed by, as you ran a hand through your hair absentmindedly.

Hm, he was a little late. It wasn’t a big deal though, right? The Christmas traffic was probably insane.

More time passed by, and you got even more antsy as the minutes passed by. But it would be fine. He would be here soon enough, you knew it. He probably just had extra work to do.

Almost an hour, now.

You were starting to worry about the turkey getting cold. Letting out a small groan of frustration, you grabbed your phone, dialing your boyfriend’s number as quickly as possible.

“Y/n?”

You inhaled, the tone of his voice confusing you a little. Why did he sound so surprised?

“Uh yeah...where are you, Bin?”

A small curse could be heard from the other end of the line. There were some rustling sounds, and then a cough. Followed by some silence. You felt your heart drop slowly, as the seconds passed.

“Changbin?” You asked again, your voice quivering slightly. “D-don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Uh...” There was more silence.

And then a sigh. A defeated, saddened sigh.

“I’m...I’m so sorry. I really am. Sorry for doing this to you. You really do deserve better than m-“

And that’s when you heard another cough. It was slight, but still audible. Quiet and...distinctively female.

“Changbin?!” Your eyes widened as you sat up. “Are you not alone?”

“Y/n...I’m really sorry. I wish things could have been different but-“ He hesitated when he heard you sniff. “I just...think we should spend some time apart.”

You let the phone drop. Changbin’s voice could still be heard, but you drowned it out. You tried to ignore the hot tears pricking at your eyes as you cut the call, burying your head in your hands.

So, that was it.

It had all been for nothing. All the effort, all the time and love you’d put into this relationship had been meaningless.

You couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. It helped, really. You let all your emotions flow past your cheeks, cursing out your boyfriend- ex boyfriend now, you supposed- in your head.

It was all you could do...cry. Cry until your eyes could barely stay open. You’d spent an hour crying and you were definitely going to spend the rest of the night the same way-

Until there was a knock on the door.

Opening your eyes, you blinked in confusion. Who could it be? Sitting up, you rubbed vigorously at your eyes until the tears were gone, more or less.

You moved to the door, pushing it open. You had an idea of who it might be…and if you were right, your heart already felt lighter.

Cause really, there was only one person who could possibly make you feel better right now.

And there he was, standing right in front of you.

“Lixie.”

Your best friend gave you a soft smile, holding what seemed to be a bunch of DVDs as well as a few snacks. “Hey.”

“Why are you here?”

“Uh well...I heard what happened.”

“How? I never called-“

“Changbin told me.” He bit his lip, pushing past you and into the room.

“He’s an ass. I can’t believe he would do this to you. I got all this ready as soon as I heard. There’s no way you’re spending Christmas all alone.” He turned to you. “I won’t allow it.”

You sighed, watching as he went and sat on the couch, arranging the DVDs and snacks in front of him.

“Do...do you know how long he’s been cheating on me?” You asked, wringing your fingers as you moved closer to him.

“I...I’m not sure. Although I know the girl. They’re childhood friends, but I thought they were just that.” He sighed.

Childhood friend. Weird, Changbin had never mentioned having one.

“He was making a bunch of lame excuses. Said that he’d fallen out of love with you and was going to tell you soon anyway. That doesn’t excuse it though...I’m really sorry, Y/n.”

The tears slowly made their way back into your eyes at his words. He’d fallen out of love with you? Why? You hadn’t even noticed any issues between the two of you. Of course, he’d been a little distant these past few months...but you’d just assumed it was because of how busy he was at work.

You slowly went and sat down next to your best friend, leaning back in silence.

“You look very pretty tonight, by the way...” Felix mumbled softly, running his eyes over your dress and turning back to the screen. You muttered a thank you, sighing.

“That...that jerk is just that, okay? I’m going to help you forget for a bit. You don’t deserve to spend Christmas night in tears.”

“It’s okay. You’re right. It’ll be hard to get over him though, Lixie...he was all I had.”

“You have me.” He said insistently. “And I’d never leave you. Now, erase him from your memory.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I know. But you’ll have to try, atleast for tonight. Promise?” He tilted his head at you.

You held his gaze for a few seconds, your heart heavy. Groaning, you nodded. “Okay.”

“There’s my good girl.”

You blushed at his words, clearing your throat and moving forward in your seat. “Which movies did you bring?” You sniffed, inspecting the DVDs.

“Well, I know you like watching Christmas romcoms.” He chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows. “So I’ve got plenty of those.”

“Hey! I don’t.” You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “I only watch them cause they’re so silly. And making fun of them is entertaining.”

“Then let’s do that.” He grins and picks out one, putting it into the player and sitting back.

The movie started playing, and you settled yourself to be more comfortable. Grabbing a blanket from your side, you draped it over the two of you. Felix smiled softly at the plushy blanket, bringing it over you higher.

There was silence as the two of you watched the movie, only interrupted by your occasional jeers. You forgot Changbin and his betrayal momentarily, your brain focused on the idiocy displayed by the Mary Sues on screen instead.

“This is so stupid...no one holds in their feelings for that long, do they?” You rolled your eyes as the character onscreen holds back their confession for the millionth time that day.

“Yeah…” Felix shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Glancing over at you, he observed your profile carefully. He couldn’t tell which one out of the two of you was more oblivious.

“I mean, you never really know...these movies might hold more truth than it seems.”

You scoffed. “I really doubt that. It’s just unrealistic.”

He stayed silent for a while, before shifting closer to you and wrapping an arm around you tentatively.

“How are you feeling now?”

“To be honest? Still not very good.” You mumbled, the tears slowly making an appearance once more as memories of your ex flooded your mind.

“Yeah...I know. I’m sorry.” He put his other arm around you as well, pulling you close to him. He let your bury your face in his shirt, his heart shaking at the sound of your muffled sniffles.

Felix felt warm, safe. You held onto him tightly as your tears flowed endlessly.

Patting your back, he kissed the top of your head. “You’re such an amazing person, Y/n. I’ve known this since day one.”

“I don’t know. I’m not amazing enough for him, am I?”

“Maybe you don’t need him to decide your worth.”

You looked up from his chest. “All I’ve known for years now is him, Lix. We’ve been together for five years, how am I supposed to just forget?”

Felix bit his lip, not knowing what to say. He kissed the top of your forehead again, humming to himself.

“You don’t...deserve him. You’ve deserved better from day one.”

“Better?”

You looked up at Felix, frowning as you observed the emotion in his eyes- so deep and profound. Swallowing, you sat up. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” he clenched his fists, closing his eyes. Fuck, this was so much more difficult than he thought it would be. Why was it so hard? He was the biggest hypocrite ever for criticizing those romcoms with you. The truth was, he was just as much of a coward as the protagonist.

Felix had held in his feelings for you for years, since childhood. The moment you stumbled into his life in grade 5, running into him with your full tray and spilling its contents all over his brand new shirt, he’d known.

You’d apologized profusely, offering to take him out for coffee to make up for it. He’d refused at first, but you’d insisted.

That was one of the things that made him fall in love with you. Your tenacity and stubbornness, the way you never backed down. You’d always been strong, as long as he’d known you.

That was exactly why it hurt to see you look so vulnerable. Of course he’d given Changbin a piece of his mind when he’d heard, but it still felt like it wasn’t enough. He wished he could do more.

Felix wished he could just blurt out his feelings to you. Wished he could be like you, the type to be unapologetic about their desires, to be straightforward.

“I don’t know. What if...what if the one who you really deserve was in front of you all along?”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He swallowed. Shit, what was he supposed to do now? He was in a corner.

There was only one thing he could do now, really. And the idea scared him and excited him at the same time.

“I mean this, Y/n.” He took in a deep breath.

And suddenly, his lips were on yours.

To say you’d never expected it would be an understatement. It was just too much of a shock, something you’d never even thought of happening.

His lips were soft and delicate. His kiss was fragile, his fingers gentle as they came up to ghost along your jaw. Everything about it was surprising, and yet...

It wasn’t unpleasant, that was for sure. Cause even as Felix pushed you backwards, you kissed him back.

You just couldn’t help yourself. You’d never seen your best friend in a romantic light- which made your sudden neediness for him all the more astonishing.

It was like there was a some sort of magnetic attraction connecting the two of you. You couldn’t hold yourself back. He tasted so sweet...

Everything about Felix is the opposite of him…and that somehow pulled you in even more. How had you never noticed until now?

He pulled away finally, his panicked eyes searching yours. His hands never left your body, though.

“Was that ok?” He asked, his voice shaky. His lips were still throbbing with the force of the kiss the two of you had shared.

“It...It was p-perfect, Lixie...want more…” you forgot the movie as you pulled him back to you, lips claiming his.

It just felt so addictive. Fuck, what were you doing? You’d barely gotten over your ex, and then here you were making out with your best friend.

His fingers ran down your back as he kissed you again, and again and again. His lips pulled your bottom lip, as he gazed deep into your eyes.

There was love in those eyes that you’d never seen before...not even in Changbin. It was an emotion so profound and raw it made you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. It all felt so new, and yet not scary or daunting at all.

“There’s things I’ve always wanted to say to you.” He mumbled in between kisses, holding you tight as he lifted you up onto his lap.

“Tell me now then.”

“I will.” He nodded, kissing your jaw.

“The first one...I’ve always wanted to kiss you like that. I could stare at those pretty lips of yours forever...tasting them was like a dream come true.”

Felix’s hands were gentle as they ran up your bare back, lifting your shirt up over your head. You let out a shy whimper as he did so, your eyes fixed on him. He groaned inwardly at the innocent look on your face. What an idiot he was to let someone like her go.

Slowly he stood up, making you clutch onto him like a koala as he headed over to the tree in the corner.

He scoffed at the ornament as he set you down onto the ground, hovering over you. “Fuck him. You’re mine, now. And I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. Was what he said true? Did he mean it all?

You didn’t know if you were being too suspicious. You’d had enough of empty promises, words spelling forevers that were never meant to be.

Felix pressed one more kiss to your lips before sitting back to run his eyes over your lingerie. His eyes widened as he ran his fingers over the satin, his finger gently playing with your clothed nipple. “Fuck, you really did all this for him? That prick really really doesn’t deserve you.” He bummed.

“So pretty…”

You watched as he reached to his side, pulling out the ribbon of one of the wrapped gifts. Taking the crimson silk, he took your hands and carefully tied your wrists together. “That’s it...You look so pretty like this. A little gift, all for me.”

He leaned in to nose at your neck, his fingers dipping down to rub over your clothed panties. He groaned at the feeling of the soaked fabric, wetness gushing out of you as he explored your folds.

“All for me. Mine.”

You stared at him, your lips parted. As his fingers slowly slid aside your underwear, you closed your eyes, whining gently.

“The second thing I’ve wanted to tell you...do you even know how amazing you are? You’re perfect. The way you always care for the people around you...the way you know exactly what to do in any situation...anyone would be lucky to have you in their life.”

You blushed at his words, your chest rising and falling with your breaths. Did he really think of you in that way? You didn’t know if you were all that special, to be honest.

The way Felix said it with so much conviction made you wonder, though.

Suddenly, your phone lit up.

Momentarily pulling away, Felix frowned as your phone dinged with messages. They kept coming, incessant pings piercing through the air.

Groaning, he sat up and grabbed your phone before returning to your previous position.

“He must be kidding…” Felix raised an eyebrow as he read the texts. Turning it, he showed you the phone.

There were a bunch of texts, all from Changbin. Apologizing, begging for you to meet him up so he could explain.

A few hours ago, you would have immediately grabbed the phone to reply to him. However, at the moment reconciliation with Changbin was the last thing on your mind.

You scoffed. Forget it. Felix was right, you deserved better.

“Forget it. Lixie...please. I need you.”

That was all he needed to hear. In an instant, the phone was discarded as Felix leaned down to kiss you again, smiling against your lips as he pressed his body against yours.

“The third thing I’ve always wanted to tell you...is how much I love you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he gazed at you.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n. And I always will be.”

You opened your mouth, but he sealed your lips with a finger.

“You don’t have to say anything now. I know this is sudden. You can have time to think about it.” He said reassuringly.

You smiled up at him, shaking your head as you grabbed his cheeks and pulled him to you once again. Leaning in, you whispered against his lips.

“We have all the time in the world…and right now, I know all I want to be is yours, Lix. I’d be a fool to not love you.”

A smile lit up his face, and you giggled at the sight. He always looked so pretty when happiness consumes his face like that.

He kissed you again, as he gently slid in a finger into your core. You gasped, your eyes glazed over as you stared at him.

“I love you, my little Christmas miracle…” He mumbled, sliding his lips down your neck. You smiled, moaning softly.

And in that moment, those sappy Christmas movies didn’t seem all that far-fetched after all.

[dixie12]

secret!sub!jonny, and pat finally finds out!

Jonny is acting weird. Like, really weird. They won the cup less than three weeks ago- Jonny should barely be sober, should be reaping the rewards of captaining the team to a second cup: free drinks, the admiration of the entire city, and the bevy of subs quite literally throwing themselves at his feet whenever he steps out of his front door. And sure, Jonny had seemed to enjoy it all for the first week or so, going out with the guys, letting them douse him in champagne, giving throaty victory speeches at the parade and chugging beers that adoring fans tossed at him. 

But the fun seemed to melt away pretty quickly after that, with Jonny getting tense and twitchy. He’d still go out with the team, probably because he knew Pat would physically drag him out if he tried to bow out this early in the celebrations. But he was distant, constantly checking his phone, eyes taking on a faraway look that was almost familiar to Pat, though he couldn’t figure out why. And despite the gorgeous men and women who approached Jonny every night, Pat didn’t think he’d picked up even once. 

It was one thing to hold off during the playoffs; Jonny was big on focusing and not being distracted, and “not wasting unnecessary energy, Pat.” Sure, planning a scene could take a little work sometimes, which Pat never minded, even during playoffs, but he understood that Jonny had always felt differently about that. But it was the off-season now, and they had weeks until they needed to start thinking about upping their training or even going to the convention. Now was the time to indulge. Pat certainly was; day-drinking, golf and baseball games during the hot summer days, a different sub in his bed most nights. 

Jonny had never really talked about his hook-ups in the locker room, not the way some guys did, visceral play-by-plays of all the paces they put their subs through, but Pat had always assumed he was just a gentleman, didn’t want to kiss and tell. Or, well, spank and tell, or whatever. But he’d never have predicted that Jonny would turn celibate when his popularity in the city had never been higher. Last night, an actual Playboy model, one who Pat recognized immediately, spent close to an hour hitting on Jonny, standing close, looking up at him adoringly through her lashes, stroking his shoulders and snuggling herself under his arm whenever Jonny moved. Instead of taking her up on the incredibly obvious come-on, Jonny looked even more awkward than usual. Pat watched as Jonny shifted himself away from her, putting distance between them, angling his body away from hers, eyes wary and back rigid. The girl gave it her all but finally realized it wasn’t going to happen tonight, walking away from Jonny in her four-inch heels and showing off an ass that nearly made Patrick cry with envy. 

Even from across the bar, Pat could see how tightly Jonny’s jaw was clenched, the tension radiating from his body. Pat watched as Jonny threw back the rest of his drink and turned, walking right past their table and out of the bar. He didn’t even throw a glance in their direction, heading straight into the street. Pat exchanged confused looks with the rest of the guys, but no one seemed to have an answer for Jonny’s behavior. Pat pulled out his phone, looking for a text from Jonny to at least say he was heading out. He had a lot of offers to party, and text threads with most of the team that just amounted to them texting “we won the cup!!!” back and forth every day, but nothing from Jonny. Pat sent him a quick “everything ok, man?” but then let himself be distracted by the boys.

In the morning, well, afternoon, to be honest, when Pat woke up, he still hadn’t heard anything from Jonny, and seriously, that was enough. Whatever was going on with him was getting worse instead of better, and Pat was sick of it. He had nothing on his schedule for the day, and he decided that he was going to drag the truth out of Jonny one way or another. He usually texted Jonny to let him know he was coming over, but at this point, he was worried Jon might actually throw the deadbolt on him. No, the element of surprise was definitely what he needed.

He thought about bringing food as a peace offering, but if Jon was already feeling off for whatever reason, he probably wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. Providing like that was something that doms did for their subs, and while Pat and Jonny didn’t really let that stop them most of the time, Pat didn’t want to start things off on the wrong foot. Better to make sure Jonny felt comfortable in his own space before Pat started digging for answers. 

Pat walked the few blocks to Jonny’s apartment, rolling over possibilities in his mind on the way. Jonny definitely wasn’t seeing anyone, so relationship trouble wasn’t on the list. He’d just seen Jonny’s family when they were in town for the parade, and they were all doing great, his parents enjoying their retirement and David back in school studying sports management. They shared the same agent, and Jonny had been on fire during the playoffs, so their contracts shouldn’t be a concern, either. By the time Pat arrived at Jonny’s apartment, he was no closer to an answer than when he started, but starting to worry even more. If it wasn’t something obvious, but it was still stressing Jonny out this badly, maybe it was serious. Could Jonny be sick? A wave of horror washed over Pat as he remembered a few hard hits Jonny had taken over the six weeks of playoff hockey. Maybe the concussion was back? He hurried in the front door of Jonny’s building, unable to wait any longer. 

Jon’s doorman waved at him, asking if Pat wanted him to call up to Jon, but Pat shook his head, grateful when the doorman just nodded and pointed towards the elevator bank. Pat had to stop himself from pacing back and forth in the small space, focused on taking a few deep breaths, fighting his growing sense of panic.

He barely waited for the doors to open before he was off, half-jogging down the hallway to Jonny’s apartment. He grabbed his keyring, flipped to Jonny’s and unlocked the door, giving a quick knock as he walked in.

Jonny was sitting on his couch, leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees, head hanging between them. He looked… fragile, almost, like he was struggling to hold himself together. Small, in a way that Jonny never was. 

“Hey, man,” Pat started, and Jonny’s head bolted upright, clearly surprised. Jonny’s apparent shock made Pat even more uncomfortable; a dom should never be caught by surprise like that in his own space, should always be acutely aware of his surroundings, ready to defend them at a moment’s notice. Admittedly, Jonny’s high-rise, protected as it was by a 24/7 security desk and locked door, wasn’t exactly vulnerable, but Jon’s inattention still made Pat’s skin crawl with unease.

“Pat,” Jonny said, looking away quickly, and that, too, was unusual, the lack of eye contact a startling departure for Jonny. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting company,” he continued, and his voice was quiet, projected towards the floor rather than Pat.

Pat was at a loss for words, unsure of what to say and unsettled at Jon’s behavior. He waited for Jonny to fill the silence, but Jon didn’t say anything else, didn’t even get up to offer Pat a bro-hug or a drink, just kept hanging his head, fidgeting with his hands so much that Pat longed to go over to him, grasp Jonny’s hands in his own and settle him down. He shook his head once, trying to get a handle on himself. Doms didn’t need “settling down,” not from other doms, at least, and Pat didn’t know where the urge had come from. Jonny just wasn’t acting much like a dom right now, and it was messing with Pat. 

The silence hung in the air for a few more moments, and then Jonny visibly gathered himself, taking a deep breath and looking up at Pat. 

“Sorry, man,” he said, voice flat but sounding a little more like himself. He gestured down at his phone and continued “just got a text from Dan. His grandfather died, and he has to go to France for a few weeks, handle the estate.” His voice trailed off at the end, eyes taking on that same familiar look Pat had been noticing recently. Pat waited for more of an explanation, but none came. He knew that Dan was Jonny’s childhood best friend, that they usually hung out when Jonny went back to the Peg over the summer, but he had no idea why his grandfather’s death was hitting Jonny so hard.

“Sucks, man. You guys were close, then?” Pat guessed, unable to come up with another reason why Jonny seemed so upset.

“No. I’d never actually met him, he moved back to France like thirty years ago.”

Pat was even more confused now, but he kept his mouth shut, waiting for an explanation. Jon’s shoulders hunched down even further, like he didn’t have the strength to hold himself up anymore.

“I just... usually, Dan and I..” Jonny was struggling, words forced out a few at a time, breath coming more quickly, “we.. he.. He helps me out,” Jonny finished, and his voice broke on the last word. He turned to look at Pat, then, and he looked impossibly young, expression crumpled and miserable. His eyes were wide and lost, filling with tears, and Pat saw fear there. Fear that he knew he would never see from a dom, but that his hindbrain recognized right away.

Later, he was so incredibly thankful that he moved on instinct, ignoring six years of etiquette, decorum and careful boundaries. Ignoring all of it in his haste to get his hands on Jonny. At the time, it felt impossible to do anything else. He was at Jonnys’s side in just a few steps, dropping onto the couch next to him, cupping the back of his neck with one hand and pulling Jonny down into his chest. Soothe, his mind insisted. Make it better. Make him safe. And Pat did, holding Jonny close, stroking his hair with one hand while the other rubbed circles on his back.

“It’s ok, baby, I’ve got you,” Pat whispered. He didn’t know what exactly he was expecting, for Jonny to fight him, maybe, jerk away and ask what the fuck Pat thought he was doing. Pat felt the strong muscles of Jonny’s back tense under his hand for just a few seconds before his entire body melted, letting Pat take his weight. 

Pat kept them there, pet names and praise falling easily from his lips, as he felt the world snap into place. It almost made sense, now. Jonny rarely picked up, never talked about his hook-ups. He flushed red in the locker room sometimes, and darted his gaze away when reporters complimented him. He was unusually touchy with his family, letting his mother muss his hair and kiss his forehead, letting David push him around. Taken together like that, and stripping away the underlying assumption that Jonny had to be a dom, it painted a pretty clear picture of what Jonny had desperately been trying to hide all of these years.

Fuck.

A sub. Jonny was a sub. A sub who was desperate for a kind touch and a sweet word right now. Pat remembered that strange phone call from last summer, when Jonny sounded so fucked out, calling him ‘Patrick’ before Dan took the phone away, and the last piece slotted into place. Dan must be Jonny’s dom, or at least a dom that Jonny felt comfortable submitting to, probably the only one. It explained why he always disappeared to Winnipeg right after the season, virtually unreachable for a week. And it explained why Jonny was so upset that Dan would be out of the country. Pat figured Jonny had been getting by on sheer determination, willing himself to just make it back to Winnipeg where he could finally let go, finally be himself, and finding out today that that wouldn’t happen must have broken him.

Shit, judging by how easily Jonny was accepting his touch, he probably hadn’t submitted for close to a year now. Pat couldn’t imagine getting up every day, making it through four brutal rounds of the Stanley Cup playoffs, playing his heart out and leaving it all on the ice the way that Jonny had done while fighting down the instinct and desire to submit. Never being able to let go the way his body would have been demanding, yearning for. Never being able to let his guard down for an instant, always vigilant against people finding out. Pat was filled with pride at Jonny’s strength, but there was an unfamiliar feeling of shame, as well. Unfamiliar, but not unknown, and Pat recognized it as the feeling he got when he’d let his sub down. When someone had put their complete trust in him and he was found undeserving of it. Jonny wasn’t his sub, but Pat still felt responsible for him now. He knew Jonny better than anyone, and he’d been blind to this secret that seemed so obvious now.

Jonny stirred against his chest, and Pat stroked a hand under his chin, tilted his head up to look at him. Jon’s pupils were blown wide, eyes glassy, cheeks a rosy, delicious pink. Pat had never seen a sub look more beautiful in his submission. 

He wanted Jonny to get whatever he needed out of this, knew it was what was right for Jon’s physical and mental wellbeing to let him stay in subspace, but the couch was getting uncomfortable. He looked around for a kneeler for Jon before realizing that there weren’t any. Weren’t any accessories, actually- no cushions, no cuffs strewn around, no paddles or crops, and his heart broke again at what Jonny was depriving himself of for hockey. For the team. For Pat.

Pat reached behind him, hands grabbing for a pillow from the back of the couch. He found one, dropping it on the floor, and nudged Jonny gently. Jon’s eyes opened slowly, eyelids fluttering like he was dragging them against a heavy weight, and his breathing was slow and deep. His brow creased as he looked up at Pat.

“Patrick?” he asked, and that one word came out in such a honey-sweet reverent tone that Pat knew immediately he never wanted to hear anyone else say it again.

“Yea, baby, I’m right here. Just want you to be comfortable,” Pat answered, gesturing down at the pillow at his feet.

“Is,” Jonny cleared his throat, “is this ok?”

“Sweetheart, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

[rodeoxqueen]

Stuck Thinking About You-Dante/Reader

TheLastCrusader Requested: Dante or Vergil gets immobilized in some embarrassing or inconvenient way during a job and then (Y/N) pays them company until they can be freed. How about they have a crush on (Y/N) and they don't know it is returned until the end?

Vergil’s Part: Coming Soon. 

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187496

Warnings: Fluff, Romantic Comedy, Taking Care of The Twins, Vulnerability, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Characters Call Out The Writer for Her Lazy Writing

Dante was the Legendary Devil Hunter, a tried and true hunter with the might of hundreds of men. And here he was, paralyzed by a venomous demon. During a hunt, it had a lucky shot and hit him with a dart. It would have killed a normal man three times over, causing the victim to lose muscle function and die. Since Dante was not a normal man, his body would metabolize the poison in due time. It’s just too bad he was stuck in his current form, arms to his side and stiff. He was lucky to be able to talk anyway. 

Nero had laughed at his predicament and dragged him back to the van by the boots, throwing him onto the spare seat like a sack of potatoes. His brother had smugly walked alongside his son, entertained by how Dante complained about his now immobilized situation. 

“Laugh it up. When I can move again, I’ll be kicking your asses.” Dante threatened, face down on the cushion with his sword strapped to his back. He sounded muffled and Nero laughed at him again. 

“Wait until (Y/N) found out you got shot in the butt by a demon.” Nero jeered. Dante groaned. 

Oh God forbid you found out, his crush. The gorgeous and funny (Y/N). He’d be a laughingstock. 

You had been working on the Devil May Cry paperwork when the red devil was carried in looking like a cardboard cut out of himself. The red devil was incredibly displeased and had a sour look on his face. 

Nero and Vergil dropped him onto a couch, dusting themselves off and high-fiving. 

“What happened to Dante?” You ask, seeing how Dante was unnaturally still. 

“My brother was unluckily poisoned. The toxins shall wear off soon, although he will be stuck like this for the meanwhile.” 

You see Dante attempt to move with his grunts and groans, yet to no avail. 

“Yeah, he’s gonna have to wait for it to wear off. You should’ve seen him, he gets jabbed and he just drops like a dead body!” Nero wiped a tear of laughter off his face. 

“Anyways, I gotta go back to Fortuna. Call me when he’s back to normal.” Vergil nodded as his son left the door. 

He turned his gaze to you. 

“I am going to retire to my room. Please let me know when he can move again.” He said as he exited the first floor. 

You put your hands on your hips seeing the devil still face down on the couch. 

“Um..Dante?” 

“Yeah?” He said, slightly muted by the cushion. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Can’t move. Stuck.” 

“..Do you want some help?” 

“Nah, I’m alright.” 

“Well, are you sure?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” 

There was a pause. You could hear Dante trying to breathe with the leather of the couch right up on his nose. 

“Would you like to be face up?” 

Dante stopped for a moment. 

“Yes.” You grinned, getting up from your seat to help out the red devil. Rolling up the sleeves of your sweater, you began by pulling on his side at the innermost of the sofa. You grunted as you put all your might on him. 

He was literally built like a brick house, and he sure as hell weighed like one. You broke a sweat getting him to be perpendicular to the couch before gravity helped out and you tipped him over. He fell back on the couch with a resounding thump. 

“Thanks (Y/N).” He flashed his charming grin, a bit of a struggle as his face muscles were slightly numb.  

You smiled at him. You saw how his veins were slightly darker, and he was quite pale. His body must be working overtime to detox itself. 

“Do you want anything while you’re trapped like this?” He made an effort to try to shrug. 

“I’m good.” Dante was not good. He was freaking out. You were used to touching him, punching him when he said a joke too cheesy, and those grazing touches he’d freak out internally over. You had such nice hands. His side where you pulled him up had tingled. 

You made your way back to the desk, Dante’s eyes on your rear. 

You went back to work, typing up reports, and examining payments from clients. Music played from your headphones, leaving Dante in silence. 

The sounds of you typing, scratching down notes on a notebook, and humming lull him to sleep. Maybe when he wakes up, he’ll be up and running again. 

You were half an hour into your work when you heard snores. Looking up, you see that the younger Sparda twin was fast asleep, probably sleeping off the toxins. An endeared smile crept up your face, seeing how at peace he was. 

Dante was an attractive guy, he was nice and funny. He seemed to always want to hang out with you and make you laugh. What a nice half-demon who was your boss. 

The veins around his neck seemed to pulse, forcing the blood to withdraw the demonic toxins within it. 

You admired the white-haired male, before going back to the papers. 

Dante woke up a few hours later. 

He tried to stretch, only to find his limbs were still stuck to his sides. 

“Ah shit.” He mumbled, yawning. His jaw popped in several places and he tried turning his head to see you. 

You answered the phone tucked by your ear as you rapidly typed out more reports. 

Once you had hung up the phone, you saw that the sleeping man had awakened. 

“Hey, Dante. You’re up. How are you feeling?” Dante sighed.

“Still can’t move.” You frowned. Even with his metabolism? 

“Aw, that sucks.” 

“Is that all my paperwork?” Dante asked, seeing the mountain of papers on the table. You slapped the yellowed papers. 

“This bad boy can fit so many missing payments.” You joked, quoting a car commercial you saw. Dante rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, let’s all make fun of Dante.” He said. 

You went back to check a few things. Dante peered at the clock. Crap, he always forgets to fix that clock. It’s been 4 o’clock for three months now. 

Dante coughed. He hadn’t had a sip of anything for hours now and napping always made him wake up with a desert-dry throat. He also wanted to rub his eyes but once again, can’t move. 

There was a knock on the door. You grabbed your wallet and got to the door. An amazing smell hit Dante’s nose. 

You came back into his line of sight when you came back with a plastic bag

“You hungry?” You asked, opening the box of pizza you had ordered. You hummed with approval when you saw no olives. 

“Meh, not really.” 

Just when Dante wanted to be low-key, his stomach made the loudest noise. It was like a damn whale call. Mind you, he was starving after his nap. He flushed with embarrassment but tried to play it off. 

You laughed. You made your way over to Dante. 

“It’s fine, I got enough for the two of us.” Setting the pizza box on the ground, you sat next to his still paralyzed form. 

“Oh man, you totally didn’t have to-” His stomach made a louder noise at the amplified smell of baked goods. 

You laughed at his expression. 

“It’s not like I can just move and take a slice right now.” He groaned. His eyes widened when you held up a fork of sliced pizza. You absolute angel. 

“I know.” You winked. 

“Now say ah..” You teased. He smirked, opening his mouth to be fed. 

Dante felt the warm cheesy culinary creation hit his tastebuds. He reveled in the lack of olives, something he always got on his slices whenever he ordered. 

You helped yourself to your own slices between feeding Dante. 

He swallowed wrong, and coughed. He had already hid his dry throat from you, not wanting to be needy. He continued coughing like a madman. A straw hit his lip and he simply sipped it, doing whatever he could to counter his fit. 

The familiar sweetness of cola soothed him and he let out a small burp.

“My bad.” He smiled as you laughed. His eyes darted to the can of soda you put back on the floor. Holy shit. You were drinking out of that. You gave him your straw. You were cool sharing drinks with him. That was an indirect kiss. Dante was ready to implode. Before you could notice his shock, he quickly made a diversion. 

“Where did you order this? It’s a lot better than the place I order at.” He asked after another forkful. You shrugged. 

“It was this new place that recently opened up. It’s close where I live. Thought I’d spice things up a bit and pick a new joint.” 

“Have you been there before?” 

You shook your head no. 

“Yeah, I haven’t. This was my first time ordering there.” Maybe next time Dante could take you there. 

“Feeling bold aren’t we?” You asked smugly at his mumbled sentence. Shit. He did not mean to say that out loud. 

“Uh. Yeah. I am.” He sputtered. You chuckled at the devil’s sudden bashfulnes. 

Dante wished he knew when to shut up. This was one of the times he wished he could. 

“Yeah. I like you a lot. You’re really nice to me, you’re real good looking too. This is totally not how I wanted to ask you out but here I am. This is really awkward for me. You can totally say no. I’m not going to be mad. I’m also your boss so that might be weird-” 

“Tell you what-” You quickly gave him another piece of pizza. 

“Once you can move again, I’ll take you on that offer.” You winked. Dante almost choked again. 

“I like you too, if you haven’t noticed.” You added, looking away for a moment. 

He laughed. You angel. 

Once the slices were cleared and the drink finished, you cleaned up. Dante saw through the window a completely dark night. 

“Whoa. It’s super late. Are you sure you want to go out that late?” Dante asked, genuinely worried. 

You shrugged. 

“I mean, it’s not too bad. I don’t live that far-” 

“I can teleport you home.” Vergil called from the stairs. The older twin came down with his book in hand. 

“Oh Vergil. Nice to see you again. I saved you a couple slices of pizza.” You pointed to the box that lied on Dante’s desk. 

“No need. Although the gesture was very kind of you.” Vergil quickly took out the Yamato, slashing through dimensions.

“Well this is oddly convenient plot-wise. Totally lazy writing. The writer definitely gave up with the conclusion. This is outrageously well-timed.” You said, hands on your hips. Vergil gave you a look.

“What?” 

“What.” 

“Anyways. I’ll see you soon. Call me when you’re back to normal.” You say to Dante. He winks at you and makes a click noise with his mouth. He’d do the finger guns too but again, he can’t freaking move. 

You left promptly, waving at Dante and thanking Vergil. 

The older twin turns around to see his shameless brother. 

“So, how long were you upstairs waiting for her to leave?” 

“Too long. I’m surprised she took overtime just to take care of your sorry self.” 

“I’m the one with a hot date, Mr. I Got Laid Once.” 

His brother scowled. 

“If it were not for the fact that you are not a fair match in your current condition, I would have slaughtered you by now.” The Yamato was pointed in his direction and Dante blew a raspberry at him. 

“Whatever.” 

“I’m going to bed. You can stay on the couch, you dolt.” Vergil snipped, going back up the stairs. The lights were shut off, leaving Dante in darkness. 

Dante smirked, closing his eyes. He can’t wait to wake up tomorrow and plan out a date with you.

[starryeyes-darkestnights]

Show Must Go On

Part 6 of We Dance Together Now

An O’Knutzy au where Leo and Logan are still playing for the Lions, but Finn is a musician/grad student they met by chance on a roadie in Montreal.

Read Part 5 here: 

Part 5 - Gold Rush

I also stuck this up on AO3, my username there is the same :)

As always, these beautiful characters and their world belong to the incredible @lumosinlove ! Her work is amazing, and I’m so happy to get to play with some of the people and places she’s created <3

The songs I referenced in here are Show Must Go On- Queen (briefly), I Wanna Dance With Somebody- Whitney Houston, and Ocean Eyes- Billie Eilish. 

I hope you like it!!!

@sunflowerfox87 thanks for requesting to be tagged in updates! :)

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

Logan

Logan stood nervously in front of the door to Finn and Leo’s apartment, wishing for the hundredth time that day that he hadn’t given in to Leo’s badgering to come by before Finn’s show tonight.

He was not looking forward to dealing with the consequences of his spiral last night. But he also didn’t want things to stay messed up between them, the way they had been that morning.

What he did want, was to pretend the whole thing had never happened. So, he’d spent his day searching for reasons to delay coming over, prolonging the amount of time he could spend not dealing with it.

But eventually he had run out of excuses, so now he was here. He could hear laughter coming from inside. That seemed like a good sign. He reached up and knocked before he could talk himself out of it, listening to the familiar sound of footsteps crossing the entryway.

Then Leo was there, smiling and holding open the door, still in the sweats he wore home from practise.

“Hey Tremz, come on in.”

Logan never been good at faking smiles, so he just nodded down at Leo’s legs, “Nice pants. You should have told me it was dress-down day at the Burrow.”

Leo just gave him a sarcastic look. “Ha ha. Very funny. I’m on my way to get changed now. Finn’s in the kitchen. Eat something if you’re hungry. I’ll be right back.”

He seemed like his usual self. That made Logan feel a bit better. Maybe he’d overreacted. Maybe everything was fine.

Leo left for his room, and Logan headed over to where Finn was finishing up the dishes in the kitchen.

“Hey, Fish.” He took a seat at the island, hoping he sounded normal too.

Finn turned at the greeting, his face lighting up when he caught sight of Logan.

“Lo! Hey. You’re here. How were the kids?”

Part of Logan’s procrastination that afternoon had involved volunteering to spend several hours playing a pickup game with the Dumais kids and their friends at the outdoor rink near their house- something he liked, but certainly wouldn’t have brushed off Leo and Finn for any other day.

“They’re good. Katie’s getting pretty cocky on the ice. I think she’s gonna end up as a captain one day.”

“Ah. Good for her.”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence fell. Finn fidgeted with a dish towel, smiling nervously at him. Finn was never nervous.

Ok, so things were definitely not fine. Logan felt guilty as he remembered the laughter he had heard through the door. He didn’t want to be the cause of another ruined evening.

Leo reappeared at the other end of the kitchen island. “Do you want a drink, Tremz?”

“I’m sorry.” Logan blurted out.

Leo and Finn both looked surprised at his apology.

“Sorry… for what, exactly?” asked Leo, looking confused.

Logan was already regretting saying anything. But he was committed now. “Uh… for this morning. And last night, I guess. I was in a weird ass mood, and I didn’t mean to be weird to you guys too. I’m good now, though, so Finn, you can stop being all nervous around me. I don’t want to fuck up the evening. This is stupid.”

Finn jumped in to reassure him. “What? No, Logan, no, we were all weird this morning, don’t worry about that. That’s not what…”

He stopped suddenly, and shot a glance at Leo, looking even more nervous than he had a few moments before. Leo nodded back, subtly, but Logan caught it.

Now he was confused. What the hell was that?

He watched as Finn took the few steps around the island to stand next to Leo, who was looking at Logan with careful eyes.

“Tremz, we wanted to talk to you about something, if that’s ok?”

It was an innocuous question, but something in Leo’s voice put Logan on hyper alert. He jerked his attention to Finn, who was looking nervously up at Leo. He felt a chill go straight through his chest and settle in the pit of his stomach.

Oh.

He forced his eyes down to where their fingers were touching on the countertop.

Shit.

He stood up quickly, his chair screeching loudly as it slid back on the tiles. He couldn’t look away from their hands.

Leo followed his gaze down and yanked his arm back toward himself. “Lo…”

“Non.” He interrupted, “Non. Désolé. It’s good. That’s good, I- I am happy for you guys.” He swung his eyes wildly around the room, looking for an escape. He needed to leave, to get out, but Leo and Finn were standing between him and the front door.

He backed up a few steps, nearly tripping on the chair he didn’t remember knocking over as he remembered the balcony door. He grabbed for it, yanking it open and rushing out, sliding it closed behind himself.

He slid down the wall next to the door. Out of sight. Déjà vu. Just like that morning.

He was dizzy.

Breathe, Logan. He sucked in the fresh air. Once. Twice. Three times.

He tried to let the evening breeze calm him. He was making this into a scene again. He needed to pull it together before it became a thing.

He tried to reason with himself. You saw this coming. You know how well they fit together. You’ve suspected it since Ilvermorny.

He had even thought he would be ok with it.

He hadn’t known it would feel like this, though.

Just get it together. Make it through the night. That’s all you have to do. You can do it.

He gave himself to the count of 5 to compose himself, and then stood and slid the door back open. He stayed where he was, though, and waited for them to join him. He could do this, but he couldn’t do it inside, where he couldn’t breathe.

When Leo and Finn came, neither of them stood between him and the door, and Logan was grateful.

“Lo…” Leo’s voice was hesitant. “You didn’t let us finish.”

“Oui, je sais, I’m sorry, I was just surprised.” He plastered a smile on his face. “But, uh, congratulations?”

Finn shook his head. “That’s not really what we wanted to talk to you about. Or, I mean, it is, but that’s not all of it.”

It seemed to Logan like that first bombshell was more than enough information for the day, but he didn’t want to make this worse, so he went along with it anyway. “Ok. What else?”

Leo took back over, speaking slowly, like he was considering each word before he said it. “So… this afternoon, Finn and I talked, and we realized that maybe this—” He gestured between the three of them. “Us. Isn’t what we thought it was.”

Logan wasn’t following. Finn noticed and tried to explain.

“I told Leo, or, well, I guess I didn’t tell him, I kind of just sang at him, but it mostly got the point across, and—”

“Finn.” Leo cut him off, gently.  

Finn flushed. “Right. Sorry. The point,” his voice softened, “is that I made him aware that the feelings I had for him were more than just friendship. Which you figured out. But we also talked about the fact that… well, we know you feel the same way about him too.”

Finn’s voice was gentle, cautious but his words cut through Logan anyway. He felt the panic start to rise again. Fuck.

“What are you talking about?” Logan knew his words were sharper than they needed to be, but he couldn’t bring himself to temper them.

“Logan, it’s ok. I promise. That’s how I feel about you too.” Leo rushed, all of his previous caution gone. “And it’s how I feel about Finn, and I also know that’s how you feel about Finn. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, and I’ve been looking at you both the same way. You just didn’t notice. None of us noticed.”

Logan was frozen in place, his eyes zigzagging wildly between the two men standing across from him.

They knew. They knew.

“What the fuck?”

He couldn’t deny it. He didn’t know if he wanted to deny it.

“Leo. Finn. What the fuck??”

Finn took a step forward, wide brown eyes completely unguarded as they locked onto Logan’s. His vulnerability sent Logan’s heart spinning. “We wanted to talk to you. We wanted to see if you wanted this too. If there was a way, if there was any way, that we could make this work. All of us. Do you think there could be?”

All of us. Logan hadn’t known that was a thing that could happen. But now that the idea was in front of him, it felt right. Like it had been right all along. His heart soared. Of course he wanted it too. With every fibre of his being, he wanted it. They liked him. They wanted him.

He could never have them.

Reality came crashing down around him.

He forced himself to answer Finn’s question.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Finn. I can’t—” He looked at Leo. He would understand. “Leo. It can’t work out like this.”

“It can, Logan. As long as we are all on the same page, it can.”

Leo didn’t understand. Suddenly Logan felt very alone. His temper flared.

“You know it’s not that easy, Leo.” He snapped. “It doesn’t work like that! It can’t work like that. We are in the NHL, Nut! The NHL. We’ve worked our whole lives for this, and you’ve seen how people are. Look at what happened to Cap!”

Leo hadn’t been there at All-Stars after everything that happened to Sirius and Loops. He didn’t see how bad it got, how many phone calls Sirius had to take from Coach, how scared he was that entire weekend. Logan had taken his phone and deleted every social media app he had, but he had still been bombarded with hate from hockey fans and, worse, from people within the league itself.

Leo’s voice was firmer now. “Exactly, Logan. Look at Sirius. At his example. He is our captain. He is our gay captain, who is still very much playing in the NHL. And not just playing. He’s leading the league.”

“That is the POINT, Nut! He is the captain. He is arguably the best player in the league right now. And there were still that many people trying to kick him out! This is my second season. You’re a rookie. Do you really think people are going to go to bat for us like they did for him? For the two newest, youngest players on the team? We are expendable!”

He had thought about this. About the impossibility of it all. From the moment he had recognized his feelings for Leo, he had known it would never work.

He waited for Leo to get it now, to agree. But instead, Leo just moved to lean against the wall next to him, keeping a few feet between them. His voice was gentle when he replied.

“Yes, Logan. I do think they would go to bat for us. I know Sirius would. Coach would. Alice would. I’m not saying we should do anything publicly, but behind the scenes, you know that they would work to help protect us in the case that anything ever came out in the future.”

He shifted, turning so that he could look Logan in the eye for what he said next. “It was never going to be easy for people like us, Tremz. I’m terrified too. I never meant to be in this position either, but we are, and… what happened with Sirius…” He shook his head, his gaze dropping. It was still hard for him to think about too, Logan realized. “…what happened with Sirius showed us that the people who matter, the people we need to have our backs, will. We are allowed to live, Logan.”

Logan had never wanted something to be true so badly. He ran over Leo’s words in his mind. We are allowed to live.

“I don’t want to lie, Leo. I don’t want to hide. That’s not who I am.”

“We don’t have to. We can tell the people who matter, Lo. It’s nobody else’s business. It’s only about what makes us comfortable. What makes us happy. Neither of us are ever going to push you into anything you don’t want, or that you aren’t ready for. I just don’t ever want you to think that you can’t have what will make you happy. You deserve to be happy. Whether it’s with us or not.”

Logan listened to the kindness in Leo’s voice, and felt the fight drain out of him. He was so tired of constantly battling against himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That fire that always burned inside him had fizzled out, leaving him with nothing but the feelings he had been trying to push away for months. Feelings for the two people who were standing right in front of him, right now, telling him that they wanted him too. That he could have them, too. That he could have this, and his career, and it could work.

He wanted to believe it.

He looked up at Leo, beside him. At Finn, standing quietly across from him. He tried to imagine walking away from them right now. It made him feel sick.

Finn spoke into the silence. “Logan, I can’t pretend to understand what your job is like. And I won’t try. But I do need you to know that I am here, and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what you decide to do. I’ll always be here, in whatever capacity you need.”

Logan’s throat tightened at Finn’s words and suddenly he knew that he was done. It was over. He was going to trust them. Relief flooded through him as he accepted it.

He didn’t want to talk anymore, but he knew they needed to hear him say it. So he pulled together as much composure as he could and tried his best.

“I didn’t want to want you. I tried so hard not to want you. I told myself so many times that I could do it, that I could keep my feelings under control.” His voice was shaky. He looked at Leo. At Finn. “But you took over everything. Everything.”

He breathed out the next words as he felt himself moving closer to Finn. “I don’t want to fight it anymore. I can’t- I just want—” He hoped they could understand what he was trying to say.

It seemed that they did, because suddenly they were both right in front of him, and one of his hands was behind Finn’s neck, and the other was desperately reaching out for Leo and finally- finally- he stopped fighting against himself.

He pulled Finn to him, and then Finn’s lips were on his lips, and Leo’s were on his jaw, and all of his senses were lit up like a lightning storm. In that moment, his entire world was just that apartment, that balcony, those boys. He let himself get lost in the feeling of it all, pulling away from Finn to connect with Leo, pulling away from Leo to let them connect with each other. Everything was so bright.

It felt like forever, and not long enough, when they finally took a moment to catch their breath. Logan let his eyes roam over their tangled forms from where he was still wrapped around Leo, and let out a quiet, wonder-filled laugh. Leo turned to him and tilted his head in question, his chest still heaving where Finn was resting against it. Logan just leaned in and kissed him again, gently this time. He leaned their foreheads together and touched his fingertips to Leo’s lips. “Quand je t'embrasse… je vois des couleurs.”

Leo’s shining blue eyes softened at that, and Logan felt his grip tighten around his waist before Finn, never a fan of being left out, started to complain. “Hey! Don’t speak French. That looked cute. I want to hear the cute things! What did he say?”

Logan laughed, and Leo grinned at him mischievously before turning back to Finn. “Logan’s vision goes all technicolour when he kisses us.”

Logan’s jaw dropped mid-laugh. “Nutty! That is not what I said! It was much nicer when I said it. You make it sound like a bad Austin Powers scene.” He pouted.

Finn laughed back and ran a thumb along Logan’s lower lip, erasing the pout. “Well, if you would speak English in the first place, you wouldn’t have to rely on a faulty translator.”

It was Leo’s turn to protest. “Hey! I’m not faulty!” He paused, fighting back a smirk. “I’m freestyling.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Logan laughed and gave him a shove. Leo was just reaching out to retaliate when Finn’s phone interrupted, suddenly blasting Show Must Go On at an absolutely obnoxious volume.

All three of them startled, Leo and Logan freezing with Logan’s hand still twisted in the shoulder of Leo’s shirt. Finn frantically spun around, looking for the source of the music.

He finally spotted his phone on an end table and scooped it up, silencing it with a relieved sigh before looking over to where Logan was staring at him incredulously.

“… what?” He looked a little suspicious as he tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“What do you mean, ‘what’? Was that an alarm?? Why don’t you have beeps like a normal person?? Merde, Harz, you scared the shit out of us.”

“It’s Finn, Lo. He used a song to start this party, of course he’s going to use one to end it.” Leo’s voice was playful. Finn wrinkled his nose at them.

“Beeps are boring.” He crossed his arms defensively. “Music is more fun. And it’s my reminder that I have a show tonight. Hence—” He swept his arms dramatically out over the balcony railing and bowed to an imaginary crowd, “—'Show Must Go On’.” He spun back to smile brightly at the two of them. “It’s perfect. You’re just a hater.”

Leo laughed, but Logan was still stuck on what Leo had said.

“Hold on, Nut, back up. You said he used a song to start this party? Finn said he sang things at you. Can I know the story?” He wanted to know how they had gotten up the nerve to set this in motion.

“Oh,” Leo turned to Finn, who nodded even though he suddenly looked uncharacteristically self-conscious, “I kind of walked in on Finn playing a song about us this afternoon. When I got back from practise.”

“A song about us? Like, he wrote it? About us?” That was not what he expected. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it- after all, he hadn’t exactly been his best self around Finn recently.

“Ya, that was pretty much my reaction while I listened, too. That’s what finally made us talk about all of this. It’s a beautiful song. Prettier than either of us, that’s for sure.” He teased

“Hey, speak for yourself, I am very pretty.” Logan retorted reflexively, but he was distracted.

He had been watching Finn as Leo talked, and he noticed him doing the thing he always did when they brought up his music, twisting his hands together and looking anywhere but at them- looking, in fact, like he would rather be doing anything else than talking about his music. He’d never asked him about it before, but he’d always wondered.

“Finn?”

“Hmm?” Finn looked up, a smile returning like it had never left.

“Why do you do that? Look away when we talk about your music?”

“Oh. Umm…” Finn looked surprised, his eyes going wide before darting back down again. He opened his mouth as if to continue, but closed it again without speaking.

Logan felt Leo’s hand tighten around his shoulder, but he ignored the gentle warning and barrelled on.

“You’re good, Finn. Like, really good. As in, you could do this as a career, good. So why are you so shy when we say that?”

Finn didn’t look back up, and when he replied, his voice was small, and quiet. Not at all like Finn.

“I can’t, actually.” He scuffed his shoe against a mark on the balcony floor.

Logan tilted his head, puzzled. “Can’t what?” He prodded gently.

Finn took a breath and looked back up a Logan, his jaw set. “I can’t do music professionally. I tried. That’s why I moved to Gryffindor. I spent the first few years here only going to school part-time, and spending as much time as I could just writing, and practising, and playing any venue that would have me. I have knocked on every single record label door in this city. Multiple times. They don’t want me. And it took me a long time to understand that. So, I gave that dream up. Now I just play for fun. For me.”

Logan was stunned. “Finn, I’m sorry, I—”

Finn cut him off, his expression softening. “No, Lo, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I should have told you guys that before. It’s not like it’s a big secret. I just… it’s hard. It’s hard to hear people say nice things about my music when I know it’s not good enough. You know? So I don’t always like talking about it. And it’s also… I mean, you’re both professional athletes. I’m so proud of you guys all the time, because you know what it’s like to work hard for what you want and to actually achieve it. And I didn’t want you to think less of me because I couldn’t do that.”

“Finn…” Leo started to reach out, but pulled his hand back. “I am so sorry if we’ve ever done anything to give you the impression that we would ever judge you. I promise, nothing you’ve ever said to us, today or any other day, could ever make me think less of you.”

Finn chuckled a bit, still looking at the ground. “I know. Logically, I know that. But sometimes it takes my heart a while to catch up to my brain.” He studied them for a moment before continuing. “I am really glad that you like my songs though. That makes me happy.”

“Like them?” Leo scoffed. “Finn, I threw away every rule I’d given myself and kissed you after you sang to me. I more than like your music.”

Finn actually laughed then, finally, and stepped toward them. Logan watched him reach out for their hands and slide their fingers together. He rubbed his thumb along the edge of Finn’s calloused fingers, imaging the guitar strings underneath them.

“That means a lot. Really. It took me a while to be able to write again after I finally realized it wasn’t going to happen.” He chewed his lip as he considered his words. “I was in a pretty dark place. It was Molly, actually, at the Burrow, who convinced me to let the music pull me out of it. And she was right, of course. Once I stopped trying to think of every lyric as a job application, I was able to actually enjoy it again, to remember why I loved it in the first place. It’s how I sort out my thoughts when everything is too messy in my head.”

Something shook loose in Logan’s memory then. “Wait… that song. The one you played the first night we came to see you here. There was a line… ‘I remember nights when art didn’t feel like work’. You said it was about moving to Gryffindor but… is this what it was actually about? Is that what you felt like?”

Finn looked surprised. “You remember that?”

“Yes. I also remember telling you that I liked that song and wanted to download it, so you should have known I would remember it.” he teased.

Finn grinned at him. “I thought you were just being nice. And yes, that is what that song was about. But, if it’s ok, I don’t really want to talk about it anymore right now.” His expression grew mischievous as he pulled himself closer to Logan, and to Leo. “I have two beautiful, perfect men standing on my balcony that I would very much like to—”

His phone blared from his pocket again.

“No!” Finn yanked it out of his pocket, silenced it, and threw it grumpily onto the chair cushion. “Rude. How did that go by so fast?”

Leo laughed, reaching his hands above his head for a lazy stretch before pulling Finn’s head in for a hug. “So, is that our siren call? Do we have to head out now?”

Finn sighed, deeply and dramatically. “Yes. The time has come, my friends. It’s to the plank we go.”

“Oh, shut up,” Logan grinned, ruffling Finn’s hair. “You love the Burrow.”

“I would love it more if it wasn’t interrupting this.”

“We have all night to do more of this.” Leo reminded him. “Lo and I have the day off tomorrow, and you don’t have class on the weekends.”

“That’s true.” Finn perked up. “You always were the smart one, Marigold. Ok, let’s go!”

Finn ducked out of Leo’s reach as the younger boy tried to retaliate against the nickname Finn only ever used to annoy him. The two of them were laughing now, but Logan felt his anxiety start to rise up at the thought of leaving the apartment, of going into a public space.

He reached out an arm to catch Finn on his way through the door. “Wait. Just… one second.”

Finn and Leo both stopped, looking at him curiously. He suddenly felt self-conscious.

“Um, before we go, can we just… can we agree that this is just between us? Just for now?”

Leo moved to stand directly in front of him, right next to Finn. He waited until Logan met his eyes, and then held them, steady.

“Logan. Of course. We told you we have no intention of doing anything you aren’t ready for and we meant it. And you’re not alone. I don’t think either of us is ready for this to be between anyone but us right now either.”

Finn nodded his agreement. “For everyone else, we are just three best friends, going to a coffee shop to watch a show and drink some liquid sugar. It’s us, Logan. You’re safe with us. I promise.” He grinned and shoved Logans hat down over his eyes. “Now seriously. Let’s go before I kiss one of you again and miss my start time.”

---

Finn

It was the longest show of Finn’s life. He tried his best to be in the moment, but all he could think of was how badly he wanted to be back at the apartment, with the two men he absolutely could not look at the entire time he played.

He had glanced over when he had finished his set-up, taking a moment before starting to just remind himself that they were real, that all of this was real.

Leo had been laughing at something Logan said, and Logan was watching him from across the table with a look that tugged at Finn’s heartstrings. He would never get over it- these two athletes with their strong postures and broad shoulders, their open smiles, and beautiful eyes. One so kind, and steady, and sure, the other so wild and passionate. And they wanted him. It was insane. Leo had noticed Finn watching and sent him a smile that made his heart skip, and Finn knew if he wanted to get through the set, he couldn’t look over again. It was a weird moment for him, as he remembered how awful it had been the first time he’d thought that exact thing, in this same place, at the first show they had ever come to see him play. This time he had a much happier reason to avoid looking their way.

Finn worked his way through the setlist he had rehearsed, trying his best to be present and give the audience his best. It was an easy enough set, all cover songs he had played a hundred times before. He decided at the last minute to throw in a new cover of one of his favourite Eagles songs, taking a quick glance to see that Leo caught the joke. He did, and Finn watched him lean over to explain it to Logan before he had to look away.

For once, the boys were ready to go immediately after he finished cleaning up. He stuck around long enough to give Molly a hug, feeling particularly sentimental toward her after that afternoon, and then they were all piled into his car and blasting Leo’s 90s pop playlist with the windows down.

Finn felt lighter than he had in a very long time. The weight of his secrets was finally off his shoulders, and the knowledge that when they got home he could kiss the boys currently screaming along to Christina Aguilera in the passenger seats of his car eclipsed all his other worries.

They managed to keep it together for the entire walk up from the parking lot, but as soon as the door shut behind them, Logan had Finn pinned up against it. Leo linked back up to the Bluetooth system and Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody blared through the apartment. Finn laughed into Logan’s mouth when he heard it, pushing him forward into the living room and shoving the coffee table out of the way as Leo danced up behind them.

Leo grabbed Logan’s hands and drew him in for his own kiss, dipping him low and spinning around to twirl him away and pull Finn in. The air was electric as they moved: spinning and touching and kissing and jumping. Too full of dizzy energy to stay in one spot for more than the amount of time it took to pull in close and explode apart. They were sweating and panting and laughing in the dim lighting, reveling in each other’s touch as they danced together in a way they’d never been able to before.

At one point, Finn had tried to step back from the chaos, to let Leo and Logan have a moment while he tried to take it all in. But Leo had reeled him back in close instead, pulling Logan in to sandwich him from the other side.

“We dance together now.” he had said, voice low and confident in their ears.

His words had lit Finn up, set his mind reeling with everything that had happened in the past 12 hours, with the feeling of having both boys there in his arms. He didn’t think he would ever be calm again.

But as the night wore on the energy gradually shifted, and by the time Ocean Eyes came up on the playlist, Finn was finally slowing down. Logan was next, dropping his head to Finn’s shoulder, and then Leo wrapped his long arms around both of them, swaying together as the lyrics washed over them. They were quiet together then, just breathing in each other’s presence. Finn buried his face in Logan’s dark curls, and felt Logan reaching for Leo’s hand. Leo had his chin resting on Finn’s head, and Finn had never felt more right than he did in that moment. He sang along quietly to the lyrics, relishing the way Logan sank further into him as he did.

As the final notes played out, Leo pulled away long enough to switch off his phone. They collapsed together on the couch then, somehow even more wound together than they had been before. Finn wasn’t sure he ever wanted to be farther apart from them than this, ever again.

---

Leo

The three of them sat in silence for a few moments, hands roaming and fingers tangling together as they settled down. Leo couldn’t stop pressing kisses to Finn’s temple.

It was Logan who eventually broke their silence, sighing contentedly from where he was burrowed low in between them.

“I like this apartment.” His voice was soft as his fingertips traced shapes on Leo’s leg.

Leo caught Finn’s eye before the two of them looked over at him.

“You do?” Finn asked.

“Ya.” He paused for moment, looking thoughtful. “It reminds me of the woods, back home.”

That made Finn smile. “Lo, we don’t have so much as a potted plant in here.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Logan looked a little embarrassed then. “I meant like, mentally. I don’t know. It’s kind of stupid, actually. Never mind.”

Leo pulled Logan a little tighter. “Hey, no. Keep going. We want to know.”

“We do.” Finn agreed, running a finger down the length of Logan’s nose before leaning down to kiss the tip of it. “Please tell us?”

Logan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling again now. He shoved himself up to actually sit properly on the couch between them.  “I just… at home, when I’m hiking or camping, it’s just quiet.”

Finn turned to fully face Logan, his arms wrapped around his legs and chin resting on his knees. Leo leaned against his end of the couch as they listened to Logan talk.

Logan continued. “It’s just you, you know? There are no other voices around to get in your head, nothing to worry about or stress over, and it’s… free, I guess. I’m free in the woods” He paused for a moment, looking like he was trying to decide whether to say more. Leo ran a reassuring hand down his arm and wove their fingers together.

Logan smiled down to where they connected, took a breath, and continued, “It’s the only place where I didn’t have to pretend. Where I could let myself feel all of the things I needed to feel. Admit things to myself that I never could have when there were other people around. Other reminders of the real world, you know?” He looked up at Leo. “It’s the place where I finally accepted that what I felt for you was much, much different than what I was supposed to feel for a teammate. It’s a safe place.”

Leo was looking at Logan. This impossibly beautiful boy. Logan was looking back at him, evergreen eyes open and unguarded. It made Leo’s stomach flip. He reached out for Logan then, and pulled him close.

Finn spoke up, quietly, from where he still sat. “And that’s what you feel when you’re here?”

Logan nodded. “Ya. That’s how I feel when I’m here.”

Leo watched Finn melt, sliding down the couch to hug Logan from the other side. “That makes me so happy. I want this to always be that place for you.” He whispered, twining his fingers with Leo’s where they rested on Logan’s chest.

“You’re that place for us, Lo.” Leo pressed their hands firmly against Logan’s heartbeat. “You make us feel safe too.”

After a moment, Logan cleared his throat and spoke again.

“Those woods are also the first place I accidentally drunk-peed on a skunk.”

That pulled a surprised, and probably highly unattractive, snort out of Leo.

Finn pulled back to look at Logan incredulously, “I’m sorry, the FIRST time?!?”

Logan just grinned in response.

“Please tell me that’s a real story.”

“It is.”

“Tell it to us, right now!” Finn demanded gleefully.

Logan laughed again as he leaned back into the couch cushions to start his story. Leo took a second to just take it all in. Logan, care-free and laughing. Finn, eyes glowing with delighted anticipation.

He sent out a silent thank you to whatever part of the universe had worked its magic in the last 24 hours, and settled in to listen, arms wrapped around both of the boys.

His boys.

---

[moondustis]

one more time (m)

pairing: jung jaehyun + reader genre: smut, angst, fluff / friends to lovers | wc: 9,4k summary: Maybe this right here is a story about growing up and finding yourself, or about finding love and being vulnerable. But it definitely is a story about friendship, skating, pancakes and Jung Jaehyun learning how to deal with his feelings. song rec: and july - heize ft. dean / i think - tyler the creator / thinking about you - frank ocean 

Jung Jaehyun is born on February 14 of 1997, valentine’s day. He is a cute and healthy baby, as he should be and cries from being outside the comfort of his mother’s belly for the first time. 

He grows up well, loved and cherished by the ones around him and filling his mother’s heart with joy and pride. He’s a happy child, then a smart teenager, just a little shy but still outgoing enough to be surrounded by friends all the time. 

He meets Seo Johnny at school and learns a lot of things from him, but most importantly he learns how to skate. And Johnny is a good friend, a good example as his mother says, because even if sometimes they skip school, he teaches Jaehyun that crying after he falls a bit too hard from a trick doesn’t make him less of a man. And Jaehyun embraces that, thinks that he always had too many feelings inside of him to begin with and he deals with all of them. 

And he’s okay, for the most part but somewhere along the way something shifts and it’s not as easy anymore. It’s not as easy as falling down on the hard concrete of his sidewalk and getting up again because college had a way of changing people, and it does a good job on him. He shuts down a good part of himself to other people, stays in his closed circle of friendships and leads his life like that, hoping that he can finally graduate and do something he actually enjoys, but at the same time dreading that day, because he wasn't sure if he was ready for the pressure of having to know exactly where to go in life. 

Maybe this right here is a story about growing up and finding yourself, or about finding love and being vulnerable. But it definitely is a story about friendship, skating, pancakes and Jung Jaehyun learning how to deal with his feelings. 

✿

Jung Jaehyun is a fuckboy. 

Ok, not literally, but he fits the stereotype suspiciously well. For starters he’s one of the guys that like to skate around campus, and dresses like someone that probably listens to Mac Miller or Tyler, the Creator, with his vans and oversized t-shirts. To make matters worse he looks like a model, walking around with his perfect face and perfect body, making literally every girl in the class you share together swoon every time he walks into the room.  And honestly that’s all you have against him, because he doesn’t actually sleep around all that much and breaks girls hearts. Not that you have heard of at least and it was a relatively small campus. 

But see, Jaehyun is a confusing person, because even if he goes around the campus screaming as his friends do flips or whatever they’re called and sometimes wears t-shirts that say things like ‘fuck cops’, he’s also incredibly quiet and kinda shy from the interactions you had seen him have with your classmates. And on top of all that, he’s majoring in education to become an elementary teacher, like that isn’t the most adorable career in the world.

So yeah, he confuses you. Even more when your first interaction ever with him goes like this: 

You’re in the middle of Psychology 101, the coffee in your system being the only thing keeping your two eyes wide open as the teacher goes on with the lecture. You are not sure if you are really paying attention or just writing down whatever he says, because underneath all that coffee you’re actually very tired from staying up late writing an assignment, and soon the caffeine boost will go away, leaving you with the weird feeling of exhaustion. 

The ‘pssts’ start low. So low that you don’t even notice, but when a very insistent one is accompanied by a finger poking your back, you have to turn around to see what is going on, being met with Jung Jaehyun, cheeks pink, looking at you with a bashful look. 

“Hi.” Is all he says and nothing else, in a rushed whisper as the teacher continues on with the talking.

You blink slowly because the coffee doesn't actually make you think faster, before you’re whispering back “Uh, hi.” 

“Sorry for interrupting you.” That’s very considerate of him to say, your mind provides. “But I skipped the last class and was wondering if you took notes of it? So I can, like, copy them. Please.” 

He adds the last word quickly, as if he’s afraid you’ll think of him as rude otherwise. You haven’t done that much thinking about Jaehyun in the past, just the here and there thoughts, but none of them had been about him being anything but nice. And a fuckboy, but that’s beside the point.

“Oh.” You just look at him for a second before you’re snapping out of it, shaking your head as you turn to your notebook. “Sorry. You can, sure.” You flip your notes until you’re on the page you had messily written down the notes for last class, overreacting for a second that he would think you are stupid because of your terrible handwriting. But all he does is take your notebook when you offer it to him, quickly snapping a picture with his phone before he’s handing it to you again.

He thanks you with a smile that’s almost not there but that still makes your heart flutter involuntary. You had a thing for cute boys what could you do? So you smile back and it stays like that for another second until he decides to break the awkwardness. 

“Uhm, are you going to Taeil’s party this weekend?” Multiple questions fill your mind at that. Who’s Taeil? What party? Why the fuck was he asking you that? Are you hallucinating this from your lack of sleep?

“I’ll probably drop by to see how it is.” Is the lie you reply with, a shrug helping you play the unbothered act too well. It’s a little pathetic if you think about, but that’s the thing, you’re not thinking at all. 

“Oh, cool. I’ll see you there, then.” And that’s it, that’s the entire interaction and it leaves you confused for the remaining of the lecture, wondering if that actually did really happen because it sure felt a bit unreal. 

When you get to your dorm room after your class, the coffee high is completely gone and you feel ready to plop down on your bed and sleep for 5 hours until you have to be up again to finish assignments. But before you can do that. you see your roommate, Jungwoo, eating cereal on the kitchen counter and you can’t help but ask. 

“Do you know a Taeil?” Again, it was a small campus so there were probably not many Taeils around. That and Jungwoo actually knew a lot of people, from his connections, as he liked to say.

He thinks about it for a second, over a spoonful of cereal before he’s saying “Moon Taeil? Yeah he's in my class.” You can’t even be bothered by him speaking with his mouth full and the fact that you’re absolutely not sure if that’s the Taeil you’re looking for. 

“Nice. Do you wanna go to his party this weekend?” A bold invitation that makes Jungwoo raise one eyebrow at you. 

“What? Why do you wanna do that?” In all honesty you don’t know either, probably something about a really attractive man and your very out of usual interaction with him, but you won’t tell him that because facing Jungwoo’s teasing was exhausting. 

You shrug. “Just because.” 

That makes him squint his eyes at you. “Okay…. It's just that you don't go to parties.” In your defense, you do. You just hadn’t been to one since your freshman year, a whole one year and a half ago. 

“Jungwoo it’s a simple question.” You huff in annoyance because you’re tired and every moment that you spend in his presence is another step closer to just spilling everything about your short and weird interaction with Jung Jaehyun. “Do you want to or not?” 

“Yes.” He replies quickly, still giving you a weird look. “I can't miss the opportunity of seeing you drunk again.

“I'm not getting drunk.” You simply say before you’re walking to your room.

✿

You get very drunk, smashed even, from something pink and slightly citrusy that you and Jungwoo had downed shot after shot of. The party was, well, a party. It wasn’t full but there was definitely more people than there should be at a house this small, and the songs playing weren’t exactly that bad, you even recognized one or two. 

And Jungwoo was as splattered as you, but he still offered to fetch you some water, with a promise of staying glued to the wall coming from you. And that’s where Jung Jaehyun finds you, barely standing still from how drunk you are. 

“___!” He says happily, catching you off guard and you wonder how he knew your name. But again you knew his and you shared a class together. 

He looks good, is the first thing you notice, with a snapback and a t-shirt that has a small bear on it and is too big for him. “Jaehyun!” You reply in the same fashion as he said your name and it makes him smile, a different one from the last time. 

“It’s nice seeing you here.” He says, moving to stand next to you on the wall and you’re just slightly overwhelmed by how good he smells. The world around you spins for a moment and you giggle for no reason. “Are you having a good time?” 

“Ugh!” First of all, a disclaimer. Drunk you was absolutely and completely stupid, a fool that liked to say nonsense and that’s why you say the next words. “Do we really have to do small talk right now?” 

He laughs at your childish whine, looking at you with eyes filled with amusement and appearing just a little drunk. Definitely less drunk than you. “What should we talk about, then?” 

Maybe he’s a bigger fool than you are for even entertaining your silliness. “I don’t know.” You look at him through hooded eyes, probably pouting from trying to think of something to say to a guy you just talked for the first time a week ago. “Don’t you miss, like, when we were kids and could just talk about whatever? Like what’s your favorite color, you know? Why did we stop doing that?”

In the back of your head, the sound of clown music starts playing. He on the other hand seems amazed by your blabbering. “Favorite colors?” His voice is just about teasing and you groan in slightly embarrassment. 

“You know what? Forget it. Shhhhh.” You drunkenly press one finger to his lips as if to emphasize your shushing. His lips twitch in the want to smile. “Let’s just do something else.” 

You don’t realize that your words sound suggesting but he does, raising one eyebrow and smiling at you. “Hmm, like what?” 

He moves closer to you but before you have the time to react, Jungwoo is coming back, water bottle on his hand and a look on his face that says he thinks you’re up to no good. He eyes you up and down before looking at Jaehyun and doing the same. He looks slightly more sobered up, but still tipsy.

“Jungwoo!” You exclaim, holding your hands out for the water bottle. 

He looks between you and Jaehyun before saying “Hello. Who are you?” It would have sounded slightly rude if it weren't for the cute tone he uses. 

You’re quick to say “This is Jaehyun, he’s-“

“I’m her friend.” He says it naturally and you wonder when you had gained that title, the giggle you let out against your own will, too drunk for you own good. 

Jungwoo says something to him that you don’t quite catch but then he’s dragging you away with a whine coming from your lips as you wave a sad goodbye to Jaehyun from behind your shoulder and he does the same with an amused smile.

“I leave you one minute alone and you try to act a fool in front of a man that good looking.” He whispers as you walk away and all you can do in return is laugh out loud.  You would probably not even remember any of this tomorrow, anyway. 

✿

You remember everything, of course. And Jaehyun starts saying hi to you every time he sees you around campus after that, always with a smile and his dimples showing up, making you blush in a silly way. But it’s only after two weeks that you finally talk with him again.

You had met Taeyong on your freshman year and after finding out he was really similar to you, you had become friends quickly. He was someone that everyone immediately felt comfortable around, that’s why it was no surprise when you find out at his birthday party that he’s friends with Jaehyun too. 

When you arrive at the party, Jungwoo by your side, there’s not many faces that you don’t know and after you hug Taeyong with a kiss to his cheek, you spot him standing by the kitchen counter. There’s a beer in his hand and he’s wearing all black, a sight that you don’t mind looking at.

He doesn’t notice you at first, his focus on a taller guy talking to him, but when he does he greets you with a wide smile that is enough to turn your legs into jelly by itself, but then he’s making his way towards you. Your heart starts beating a tiny bit faster, your hand moving to fix your hair in habit. 

“Hello.” He greets and Jungwoo decides that’s a good time to leave you side and go talk to his other friends, not even sparing you an explanation. He knew what he was doing. “Didn’t know you were friends with Taeyong.”

You smile like a silly girl. “Yup, he’s like my soulmate.” 

His smile grows wider at that, a pair of dimples making their way to his face and you almost groan because there’s no way he could get any more charming than this. “That's how I know you are a good person.” He jokes and you let out a snort, giving him a funny look. 

“Our first interaction was me letting you borrowing my notes, that should've been enough.” You point out in a teasing manner, not really meaning the words. 

“You’re right.” The ghost of a smile graces his lips as he defends himself, the faint sight of a blush gracing his cheeks as he avoids your eyes.

He offers to get you a beer after that, leading you to the kitchen with a hand on your back that feels weirdly nice. You were never one to get stupid crushes but that’s exactly how you feel around him, like at any moment you will say or do anything really dumb because of your infatuation. You wonder if it’s because of his looks or the way he seems a little shy around you.

“By the way, you never told me your favorite color that night.” He says, eyes twinkling with mischief as he offers you the beer, which you gladly take after immediately letting out a groan.

“Ugh, shut up. Don’t remind me of that.” You are sure your entire face is red from embarrassment at just the thought of the things you had said that night. It wasn’t even that bad, Jungwoo had said, but you like to overreact, so you cover your face with your free hand.

“Why? It was cute.” His voice is filled with amusement and when you peak from under your hand you can see his face is as well. “I like how funny you are.” 

The words only make your face get hotter as you smile awkwardly. You were far from funny, your friends liked to remind you of that fact. But how could you be when you had friends like Jungwoo that absolutely made everyone in a room laugh without even trying. But still, his words make you feel a little proud, that at least you were able to make a pretty guy think that. 

“I don't have a favorite color, it always changes.” You say suddenly, going back to the previous subject to avoid making the conversation about you. Even if you had to talk about something like favorite colors. “I like when the sky turns pink during sunset, I guess you could say it’s that one right now. ” 

He hums, taking a sip of his beer before saying “It's a good one.” 

You huff, he was really trying hard for a conversation about such a stupid matter. Still, you continue to entertain it. “What's yours?”

He pursues his lips, think about it for a second. “I don't know… I like black.”

“Obviously.” You deadpan and it makes him laugh like you actually said something funny. 

Jaehyun stays by your side for the rest of the night, trying his best not to make small talk and it surprises you how easy he is to talk to. He asks you about your favorite everything, from animals to movies and it’s really nice to find out you two have more in common than you would ever imagine. By the end of the party you are glued to his side on a probably too crowded couch, his close proximity making you warm all over and only bothering the butterflies on your stomach more.

It’s when he lets out a loud laugh at something Jungwoo and Yukhei are going back and forth about, hiding his face on your shoulder as his whole body shakes with laughter, that you know for a fact you’re fucked. Completely fucked.

✿

Jaehyun and you become friends very fast after Taeyong’s birthday. It’s almost weird, because both of you seem to be just a little too shy for you own good, but things just happen naturally when you are with him.

It starts with silly jokes passed around in notes on your shared lecture, with your face turning red from how hard you try not to laugh out loud and sharing your favorite songs with each other. Then it becomes grabbing a coffee after class, and sharing something sweet because you both deserve it after enduring such a boring lecture. It all leads to what it is now, two months later and your days are filled with Jaehyun’s comfortable presence, his laugh and late nights texts about any subject that comes to mind and sharing your biggest dreams and some of your fears with him. 

It scares you at the same time it makes you extremely happy, because you had never been someone who had many friends, letting people in and connecting was hard, so you decided very early that navigating life with a few close friends was enough. But Jaehyun makes it all seem very easy and it’s suddenly like you can’t imagine your life without him anymore. 

That brings you to where you are right now. You have both had a long week and decided that it would be nice to have a movie night, and after you had ate the chinese takeout you ordered, you settle on on his couch as romantic comedy movie plays. You’re both comfortable, his eyes stayed glued on the screen, laughing as a character makes a joke about oral sex. Maybe that’s why you ask your next question out of nowhere. Or maybe you’re just stupid. Probably the last one.

“Have you… Have you ever gone down on a girl?” The words are stammered out as you look down your lap, cheeks going pink. You immediately regret asking because you can feel his eyes on you as he searches for a response.

“Wha -- Where did that come from?” It’s even more unsettling that you can’t pinpoint exactly what he’s thinking. Sometimes Jaehyun was hard to read, and that bothered you. 

The small laugh that leaves your lips is fake. “It's a silly question, right? Sorry, I wasn't thinking.”You continue avoiding his eyes, picking at the nail polish that was already chipping on your fingers. 

“Its okay.” He’s quick to say, always making sure you’re not unsure of yourself.  “And, yeah. I mean, I have, of course.”

He says as if it’s obvious. As if it’s something that he absolutely needed to do and all you can say back is “Oh.” 

“Why?” It’s a good question, really. Because you have no idea where you are trying to go with this conversation, but now it got him to pause the movie and to look at you with expectation on his eyes. So you can’t do anything but continue. 

“I don't know…” You gulp down, slightly shaking at what you’re about to say. “I have never — No one has ever done that to me.” 

“Never?” He sounds surprised, annoyed even, but you wouldn’t know what he looks like because you continue to avoid his face, playing with the hem of you skirt instead now. 

There was no reason that you two should be having this conversation, because you were friends and nothing else. But again, friends talked about this all the time. Friends could talk about sex right? Friends could share experiences and joke about it without getting awkward or making a complete big deal out of something so normal. 

Jaehyun lets out a deep breath and then it’s silence for a second. You feel small and embarrassed, because deep down you know that you didn’t say this just as a normal friendly comment. It’s like somehow, you knew exactly that he would say what he does. Or better yet, proposition it. 

“I could…” His words are tentative, almost a whisper as if he wants to put the two of you in a bubble that no one can break in. “I could show you.”

Your eyes widen as you look at him “What? You — What?” 

And Jaehyun is so gentle, as he slides over the couch to be next to you, and give you the comfort you need, and as he cradles your cheeks with his hands. “W-We don’t have to.” He assures, but something on his voice that says he really wants to. “But I'll take care of you. If you let me.”

He’s too much, you think as you stare at his face with glossy eyes. There’s a line that’s been placed on your friendship, a very fine line between what it is now and what it could become. Right now that line is wavering, even more when all you can do is nod your head slowly, giving him all the agreement he needs to press his lips against yours.

It’s a sweet kiss, his lips molding to yours and you can’t help but sigh. It feels right, even if it maybe isn’t. He kisses you with the delicacy of someone who knows this could ruin something good, but at the same time with the determination of someone who wants this too much to care. 

He tilts his head, deepening it as he sucks on your bottom lip before he’s swirling his tongue on it, asking for entrance that you so gladly gives. And you’re not completely inexperienced, you had done this before and knows, how it feels to have someone on top of you, how it feels to have someone try to make you feel good, but when his tongue slides against yours you can feel your head spin and the arousal on the pit of your stomach only grows. 

It’s with slow and calculated moves that he gets you to lay on the couch, with him pressing kisses all over your neck and wherever he can. You watch with your heart beating too fast as he moves down, lifting your shirt a bit past your navel so he can kiss there too, and then he’s slipping your skirt off. 

It makes you antsy being in only your panties in front of him, even more when it’s just a simple cotton and pink material, but he pays it no mind. Instead he continues to press kisses all over your thighs, holding them apart when you try to close them and you shiver in anticipation.

“Are you nervous?” He asks, with fingers hooked on each side of your underwear, about to pull them down. 

You huff because isn’t it obvious? You’re about to have someone eat you out for the first time. Your friend out of all people. “Y-yes.” 

He smiles at you, a smile too sweet for what he's about to do but you still smile back. “Don’t be, I’ll make you feel good.” 

And you know he will because he’s a man of his words.

You close your eyes tightly as he slides your panties off, resisting the urge to completely close your legs because he’s so close and you feel so exposed. And he wastes no time, face just above you and when his fingers come in contact you jump a little. 

You feel as he parts your lower lips, a puff of breath making a shiver run down your body and then he’s pressing a kiss to your most sensitive spot. A whine leaves your lips because of the new feeling, and it only gets higher when his lips close around you, sucking like he has a purpose. It’s almost overwhelming, both because it’s him and because it’s the first time. He licks at your clit, with swirls of his tongue that are kitten like before he’s flattening his tongue down to your entrance, lapping at it and gathering your wetness so he can move to your clit again. 

You trash around and wail, too sensitive but too into it, even more with the way he grips at your thighs to keep them open. He seems to enjoy it, humming against you as he licks you like a starved man before he’s saying with his face still pressed to your center “Taste so good.” The words are muffled and they send vibrations to your core, making you blush as you let out a loud moan. 

You come easily, with laps of his tongue and the knot on your stomach getting tighter and tighter until it snaps completely and you cry out, a mess of curse words and his name and white spots blurring your vision. And he continues his ministrations, tongue pressing inside of your entrance as if he doesn’t want to let any of it to go to waste. 

When he comes up again his lips are red with your arousal making it and his chain shine. You don’t even have the time to feel embarrassed because he kisses you, a strong press of his lips against yours and then his tongue, that was just a second ago inside of you, invades your mouth and slides against yours. You can taste yourself on him and you can feel his hardness pressing against your exposed thigh, your head spinning as he moans in the kiss.

You try to move your hips to press against his in an almost shy movement, but he feels it. A groan escapes his lips as he breaks the kiss, looking completely disheveled. It’s a sight you would probably never forget. “Fuck, I don’t have anything on me.”  He breaths out  and you realize he’s talking about a condom and just the thought of him being inside of you is enough for you to close your eyes as a new wave of pleasure runs through your body. “I want to fuck you so bad. God, so fucking bad. Would you have let me, huh? Would you let me fuck your sweet cunt?”

He noses at your cheeks as you throw your head back. This is not something friends should be saying to each other, far from it. But you still nod, because you would without a thought. And maybe that’s your first mistake. 

✿

Jaehyun fucks you for the first time on the first day of summer. Not that any of you knew that, it’s just something that if you were romantic enough you would think about. 

It’s hot inside his messy room, that you pretended not to notice for his sake. Even hotter with the way he presses kisses against your neck and thrusts into you in a pace that is as calculated as it is maddening. He’s good at it, not that it surprises you. 

He eats you out after he finishes inside the condom and you cry out his name because it’s like he’s trying to make sure that you should never settle for anything less than this. And he’s so willing, with his tongue pressing hard against you and with movements that make you grip at his hair for leverage. 

It’s as clear as day that he’s experienced at this, at least more experienced than you are, because your body count number doesn’t go higher than two and you had just gotten head for the first time a week ago. It makes you feel almost inadequate at the same time it makes a thrill run through your body, eyes glossy and wide as you stare at him practically devour you. 

Your second orgasm hits you with a loud gasp and your whole body shaking in his hold. He holds you like he won’t let you escape, and he doesn’t. 

It becomes a regular thing, the fine line you had drawn between your blooming friendship and something else completely gone as Jaehyun calls you on a thursday night, asking you to come over and then fucks you for the second time with the window open, because summer this year was almost unbearable and sweat clings to both of your skins as he makes you come with a shout of his name. 

It’s an unspoken arrangement, that when one of you needed it you could always call, be it because you’re so stressed from assignments that you need a way to let it all out or because you had a little too much to drink at a party and needed to feel it. 

It goes like this for the whole duration of summer and you think you don’t go three days without seeing Jaehyun. He basically memorizes everything that makes you shake and teaches you everything that he likes, and it’s good. It’s good and it’s easy, no strings attached and you’re fine with it. 

But here’s the catch, because there’s always a catch. You’re not really fine with it. 

You remember one time, when you were around 8, that a teacher made a joke about you and a classmate being more than friends. The mere thought of a romance at that age had made you cry out loud until your mother arrived to pick you up. 

The moment stayed with you, because even at high school, relationships were something you would rather not focus on, not until college at least. But when college came around you didn’t change, still putting your love life aside so you could focus on things that you considered more important.

Now at 21, and still single, it was easy to realize, even if it took some time to finally get out from the denial, that you were scared. Scared of commitment and of being completely vulnerable to someone, even if sometimes when you laid in bed you felt extremely lonely and when you saw your friends getting in loving relationships, it made you just the tiniest bit jealous. It wasn’t a great feeling.

You had never dated before, only had flings that didn’t last much. And you weren’t a romantic, not at all, didn’t think that a relationship would make you happy and definitely weren't willing to give up your dreams for one. But still, it hurtsj ust a little to see your friends settle in while you stayed alone and it hurts just a little that intimacy had become something you desperately craved.

And maybe at the begging of your relationship with Jaehyun you had thought that this would finally be it. And maybe you were also just stupid and too naive to let you relationship get to where it is, but it becomes something more. Somewhere between the first kiss your shared and him fucking you on the bathroom of some party, because you just couldn’t wait, Jung Jaehyun caves a place for himself inside your life and you let him, the feelings blossoming in your chest getting too big to handle every day.

And he is still confusing, because he is too nice, too gentle. He sends you silly pictures of himself during the day, tells you about the skate tricks he finally got right even though you have no idea what he’s talking about. He buys you sweets when you say you had a bad day and sometimes, the times you dread the most, he kisses you like he means something more with it. Sometimes he fucks you with unplaced gentleness that if you closed your eyes you could believe this was something more. 

But it isn’t because at the same time you hear whispers about a girl he was with at a party, you see his phone light up with texts that you don’t read, but your mind can’t help but overthink as something that makes your stomach turn.

But you let it happen, because in your mind maybe having him like this is better than nothing, at least for now. And maybe, even if you were craving for it deep down, you weren't ready to have it. So summer comes and goes and you wish your feelings went away with it. 

✿

Watching people skate becomes an entertaining activity. Something about the movements and the sound of the wheels rolling on concrete made you extremely calm, putting aside the noises of screaming boys and all the curse words they said. 

Even with the direction your relationship took, Jaehyun still seemed to consider you a close friends, something you found extremely bittersweet. He still complained about his classes, still texted you stupid things during the day and he still took you to the skate park to watch him and his friends do tricks for hours. 

The only things that had changed were the sex and the fact you were falling in love with him. No big deal. 

You watch as Jaehyun’s tall friend, that had been introduced to you as Johnny, goes for a trick that involves him jumping and ends up falling, making everyone around him laugh and scream jokes. It was extremely amusing to see a bunch of 20 years old act so carefree and boyish, a small laugh escaping your lips.

Jaehyun helps Johnny up, a wide smile on his face as he says something you can’t exactly hear but it must be funny because it makes Johnny laugh. You’re so entranced with the scene that you don’t notice the red hair man approaching you.

“Whats up, ___?” Yuta says with a grin as he stands tall in front of where you’re sitting on a bench. He was one of the few of Jaehyun friends that actually tried to make you feel welcome when he brought you along to their skate sessions, always making conversation and offering to keep you company. 

“Hey, Yuta.” You smile back, shielding your face from the sun so you can see him better. 

“Just gonna sit here by yourself?” Shrugging you watch as he drops the skate he had been holding down and steps on it as a habit. “I can teach you how to skate if you want.”

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making you laugh. “No thank you, I've seen you fall too many times to consider that.” Jaehyun had already offered you the same thing too, but you had absolutely no interest in getting up that four wheeled thing and ending up with a broken bone.

“Please, I'm just falling to get your attention.” His flirty words are not a surprise. He had been like this from the moment you met, saying things that made a blush set on your face. At first it had made you confused but now you knew it was just how he was. “Besides, I never fall as hard as I'm falling for you.”

The last words are said in a sultry voice that makes you laugh even louder, hand coming to your face as you shake your head in disbelief. “Pfft, you’re so corny.” 

The sound of your laughter must have attracted attention, because next thing you know Jaehyun is approaching the both of you with his skate underneath one arm and a weird look on his face. “What’s up?” He asks when he gets close enough, dropping the skateboard down and lifting the snapback he has on to run a finger through his hair. 

Yuta rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. “Jeez, nothing. Mind your business.” 

You laugh, giving him a pointed look that seems to amuse him to no end. “Don't be mean.”

That makes him smile and he winks at you before saying “Just ‘cause you asked nicely.” And then he’s skating away, leaving you and Jaehyun alone. 

He looks at you and smiles just shy from letting the dimples you liked so much show up. “Was he bothering you?”

You scoff. “Or course not, Yuta is harmless.”

“Yeah, right.” His tone drips in sarcasm as he sits down right next to you, legs spread open and an arm coming to rest behind you. Sometimes his actions screamed masculinity and it made you feel a weird thing inside of you. 

“He was just messing around, he says flirty stuff to everyone.” 

He huffs, looking around everywhere like he’s trying to avoid your face. “It’s just.. they keep talking about you. Pisses me off.” The words are barely audible, like he’s just saying it to the air and not to you. 

You’re confused, eyes dropping as you pick on the green polish on your nails. “What do you mean?” You didn’t think most of his friends even cared about your existence so knowing they talk about you in the way he’s suggesting is a surprise and it makes you antsy. 

He shrugs, giving a small laugh that’s merely another huff. “Doesn’t matter.” You want to ask more but just then he looks at you again, the sunset making him look almost angelic. He’s quick to add another question, as if to not give you the opportunity to say more. “Do you wanna go to IHop after?”

It catches you off guard, but you still nod. “O-Okay.” 

Jaehyun confused you some times and that’s what happens when he slides a hand to your cheek after nodding. The kiss he presses to your lips is chaste, not quick but also not long. It feels like something casual, like a couple would do out of naturality. 

It’s the first time he kisses you in front of his friends or outside of his room, for that matter. It makes the butterflies in your stomach go crazy but you’re not stupid and you would have to be to not realize what this is. He’s trying to show his friends that they shouldn't mess with you. 

It’s a bittersweet kiss, like most things seem to be these days with him. He walks away after breaking the kiss, with the excuse of saying his goodbyes before you can leave and you watch him with a twisting feeling in your stomach. 

The kiss is not mentioned again as you two walk side by side to the restaurant but the weird feeling sticks with you. Most days you try to act like nothing's wrong, because if you think rationally about it, it isn’t. But there’s something about the look on Jaehyun’s face when he talked about his friends, and there’s something about the way you want desperately to hold his hand but can’t, that makes you want to cry just a little.

He orders huge pancake pile that you both share, making you laugh when he stuffs his mouth too full and offering you the last piece because that’s just how he is. It makes you forget about the lingering feelings for a while, the warmth of having a friend like him settling in instead and you can’t help but wonder if it would’ve been better if it just stayed like this. 

When the pancake is over and you’re both too full to even have a conversation he slides his hand to where yours is placed on the table. It’s just a small gesture, him picking your hand up in his and eyeing your fingers before saying “I like when you paint your nails like this.”

He means the colorful setup you got going on, with each finger a different colors because you just liked how it looked and it made you happy. “Maybe I can do yours one day.” You say around a smile. 

And he agrees, of course he does. “That would be nice.” He continues holding your hand but you don’t think much of it.  “That movie we wanted to watched came out, wanna go watch it at my dorm?” 

In your mind you think that’s clue for something else so you just laugh, shaking your head. “I don't know Jae. I’m so full i don't think I can have sex without like throwing up.”

The laugh he lets out makes you heart feel full.  “We are just going to watch a movie.” He says while squeezing your hand softly. 

And you do end up just watching a movie, like old times. It’s fun and you feel happy, but the feelings in your heart come back in full force when you go back to your dorm and you can’t help to wonder what it would be like if you could just stay at his and cuddle like a couple would do. Then you wonder what it would be like if you hadn’t crossed the line.

If you cry yourself to sleep, then that’s beside the point.

✿

Three days later Yuta asks if you and Jaehyun are dating, out of curiosity. The question makes your stomach turn, and when you say no he asks you out on a date. It’s weird, mostly because you think at first that he’s just joking as always, flirting with you to make you laugh. But when it dawns on you that he isn’t, you say you would think about it. 

You say that for two reasons. Just yesterday, you had to sit on a lecture while some girl whispered about how Jaehyun had a big dick and how she knew that was obvious. You had heard about people talk about him before, and it always made you feel weird but now, when every time you’re with him you can’t help but feel your feelings get stronger and stronger, it makes you feel almost sick. That’s reason number one.

Reason number one is that you have realized that you deserved to be on dates and have fun, and just feel like your feelings mattered and were reciprocated. 

So you say you’ll think about it and you do, and the realization you come to is far deeper than you expected. And in retrospect, maybe it was a bit out of impulse. 

You’re laying on Jaehyun’s bed, right after you two fucked, with you on top because he fell down and hurt his ankle. You’re wearing a big t-shirt of him and he has one arm across his eyes, recovering his breath and basking on the glow that is an orgasm.

You don’t know why you say it, but next thing you know you’re sitting up on the bed and letting the words out. “Yuta asked me out.”

His arms slides to his side as he looks at you, eyes swirling with something you can’t quite place yet. “What?” His voice gives it out, jealousy. “And what did you say?”

“I said yes.” You don’t take your eyes off him. It’s a lie because you didn’t know what you were going to say yet. But you felt like you had to say something to him before you made any decisions. Like you owned him something. 

“Why?” His eyebrows are furrowed and you can’t help but scoff.

“Because I wanted to.” You suddenly remember the girl from your class, and the other rumors and it just makes you feel bitter. He just mutters a low okay, like he doesn’t know what else to say right now and it just pisses you off. You wonder if it would be better if he protested against it. 

A lump forms in your throat as he avoids your eyes, and you decide that you need to be brave enough for once. “I think… That maybe we should stop doing this.” It’s tentative, the lump only growing as you watch him close his eyes tightly. There’s something you want him to say but you have a feeling he isn’t.

“Because of Yuta?” Your head drops as you shake it. He’s unbelievable. 

“No, what the fuck? Of course not.” You hiss, looking at him and wishing he would just look at you. Maybe that would make this better. “I- I just don’t think I can do it anymore.” 

It’s the truth. But why do you feel like crying? There’s a pain in your chest that makes you want to run from here and hide forever, a headache starting to form from holding back your tears. He takes a deep breath, finally opening his eyes but still not looking at you. “Okay. If that’s what you want.” He sounds pained but it’s all that he says. 

You get up from the bed slowly, gathering your things in complete silence and you know then that everything from now on will change. You wish he would say something, beg you to not leave, tell you that he doesn’t want to stop it. Wishes that he would just hold you and comfort you like he always does, but he doesn't. “We… We can still be friends.” You mumble out, because that’s the thing you’re scared to lose the most.

He lets out a sad little laugh that breaks your heart. “Of course. We’ll never stop being friends, ____.” 

And you can’t help but laugh quietly too, before you’re muttering out your goodbyes and leaving the room before you turn back on it like you want to.

✿

Jung Jaehyun was not a big romantic, despite being literally born on the day that glorified it. It’s not that he doesn’t care about it, he’s still soft hearted after all, but the big gestures and all the dramatics that seemed mandatory to it just didn’t do it for him. He always thought that love should be something easy, that came naturally and without much thought not something that served to rip your heart of your chest and leave you restless.

That’s why he probably has so much trouble dealing with it, because it usually wasn't easy at all. 

He remembers when his parents got a divorce when he was in high school, something that he saw coming but still managed to mess with him. At the time he refused to cry about it or even acknowledge the whole thing was happening, instead staying out of home until late hours and deciding that some things weren't worth enough to bother about.

He went like that until Johnny said the words he thinks about sometimes even now. “You have to own your feelings.” He had said as they sat side by side on a sidewalk, sweaty from skating but with the adrenaline, that only feeling the wind as you go down a slope can make you feel, pumping on their bloods. “If you don’t you’ll never be able to be yourself. Or know what you want.”

Right now, as he thinks about that moment he gets a bit nostalgic, even feels like crying a little bit. Doesn’t help that he’s close to being high out of his mind. 

Johnny sits by his side, just like he did that day, only this time it’s at the balcony on the apartment they shared. He takes a drag from the blunt they had been passing back and forth for the last hour, watching the sunset and not really talking about anything in particular. 

“Do you think we can find love here?” He asks suddenly, the words escaping his mouth because he just couldn’t contain them anymore.

“What you mean here?” Johnny’s voice is slurred and he seems just as cloudy as Jaehyun is. If they weren’t high they would probably think this was far from a conversation to have in this state.

“In college I mean. I feel like every relationship that happens in this place is doomed to become just a passing thing.” He stumbles over the words, gesturing around with slow motion and it’s probably the deepest thing he has ever said, high or not. “Something to forget about after graduating.”

All his past relationships had gone away like wind, like something that never really even happened. It never felt important, like something that he would take him for the rest of his life. That thought bothered him for a reason and he always preferred to not think about that, but right now he feels like he can’t escape it anymore. 

His friend thinks for a second, the look on his face indicating he’s long gone as he stares outside. “I don't know man. I think you can find love anywhere if you are open to it.” He says simply and all in one breath. 

It’s silent for a moment and he watches the sunset, the sky a mix of orange and pink and it makes him think of you. These days his thoughts are all over the place, but your presence in them is constant. It had been just a week since the last time he saw you but it had definitely been getting to him, and it’s not hard to know why. 

“I think I’m in love.” It’s easy saying it than he thought it would be. “With ___. 

Johnny smiles knowingly. “Why do you think that?”

Because he can’t look at a sunset and not think of you. Because there are songs he can't listen without thinking about how you would probably like them. Because he catches himself thinking about the way you laugh with your cheeks turning pink when he makes a joke that is not even funny. Because of how you always have something smart to say back to his teasings. Because the thought of you being with someone else pisses off and because it feels safe and easy when he’s with you. 

“Because I miss her.” It’s what he decides on. “And I've never missed anyone like this before.” 

He feels like he has just let out a breath he's been holding on for a long time, his mind fuzzy and he can’t help but let a silly laugh.

“I think you should probably tell her that, then.” Johnny says simply, laughing too. 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

✿

You see him for the first time again two weeks after what happened. It had been enough time for you to get over it, but you don’t. Only further proof that your feelings ran deeper than you wanted them to. 

Even with the promise of staying friends, the need for a time to collect yourself was obvious, so you stay out of touch with him for these days and it’s hell. And you think about Jaehyun more than you want to, his face appearing in your thoughts every time you close on your eyes, no matter how busy you tried to keep yourself. That’s why your heart basically somersaults out off your chest when you see him on campus when you’re making your way to your dorm after a very boring lecture.

It’s cliche and something that would probably fit on a movie, the way his eyes go wide as he sees you all the way from where he’s skating with some friends, not even minding that Yukhei was in front of him and collapsing into him almost in slow motion. You watch as he falls down with your lips in a comedic ‘oh’, Yukhei coming with him as everyone around them falls into laughter. 

It doesn't seem to faze him, though. Because next thing you know he’s getting up, seemingly not hurt, helping his friend and picking his skateboard up. He practically runs to you after that, baggy clothes moving with him. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Is what you ask when he finally gets close enough to you that you can hear his heavy breathing. His cheeks are fully red as he pants. 

You look at him with wide eyes as he catches his breath, arms crossed in front of you. The antsy feeling on your gut only gets worst by the second. 

“Don't — Don’t date Yuta.” Is what he says after a while, the words rushed as if he couldn’t keep them in anymore and all you can do is gape, confusion painted all over your face.

“What?” 

He sighs deeply, hand running on his face. “I — Fuck. I know I sound like an asshole but I don't want you to date him, please.”

You narrow yours eyes. He hasn’t talked to you in over a week and this is the first thing he decides to say. “You’re making no sense right now.” 

He seems stressed, mouth opening and closing as if he really doesn’t know what to say. Like this is what it is, an impulsive action. “Listen, I’m not good at this relationship thing.” Is what he starts with, looking at you with eyes pleading and feet shuffling. “But I… I wanna try.” 

He pauses, taking a deep breath as you let the words sink in. Your head spins with his confession, to stunned to say or do anything but look at him with parted lips and softening eyes.

“Can you give me another chance?” He continues, voice dripping with something that sounds a lot like begging, but you know that’s not like him to do. “Just one more time. I promise I’ll do it right this time.” 

When his words finally settle in you can’t help but let out a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you stupid?” His head drops immediately, ears turning red as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Come on please, don’t do that.” His bottom lips jut out when he looks at you again, you still smiling because he really is stupid. He really has no idea. “I- I’m in love with you. Fuck, I really am.”

He says the word in a sigh and it surprises you, catches you off guard because even if he just said he wanted to try again, you didn’t think that he was feeling the same way you were. You look at him for a second, eyes wide before your lips turn into a smile. “You really are stupid.” Another laugh and he looks defeated, until you continue. “I don't want to date Yuta. I never did.” 

He tilts his head, confusion gracing his features. “No?” 

“You wanna know why?” It’s a rhetorical question because you quickly add the words you have wanted to say for so long. The feelings that scared you but at the same time made you feel extremely alive. “Because I'm in love with you too.” 

It’s blissful watching his face turn into one of completely adoration as his lips turn into the biggest grin, dimples showing and you heart beats with all the love you feel for this stupid, stubborn and lovely man. “You are?” He asks, hopeful and around a smile.

You barely have the time to nod before he’s letting his skate fall to the ground and he’s coming forward to give you a hug that lifts you from the ground, a yelp coming from your lips but it quickly turns into a giggle as he twirls you around in his arm in pure happiness. 

For a second you forget about every doubt you ever had. You just let yourself bask in the wonderful feeling that is being held by him. 

He wastes no time to press a searing kiss to your lips when he lets you down, holding your cheeks in his hands and you kiss him back with as much passion. In the back you can hear the cheers of his friends, and even if you flip them over, you are still smiling.

[ki1zai]

Honestly wrote this on a whim so I hope it’s decent :’D Kinda Proofread but it’s late so I’m sorry for any errors and plot holes, hope y’all have a nice day and remember to hydrate <3

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Pairing : Frank Castle / Matt Murdock ( Fratt )

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TWs : mention of shooting and guns ( nothing explicit )

CWs (?) : lots of cursing ( no surprises here tbh )

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“What the hell...” Frank muttered, picking up a stray pistol he left on his dinner table and silently made his way to the front door. Someone had been pounding on the poor thing for a solid minute and it was clear they weren’t going to stop anytime soon. Frank was very annoyed. It was currently 2:30 am and he was having a very good dreamless slumber before getting rudely interrupted by whoever was on the flip side of his door. Ensuring the pistol had bullets and clicking it’s safety was off, Frank slowly unlocked his door.Swinging it open, Frank hastily positioned his pistol to where his visitors head seemed to be.

Eyes widening and hands fumbling when he realised the idiot who was banging his door of it’s hinges was none other than Matt Murdock; resident vigilante. Putting the safety back on, Frank did a quick scan of Matt. And it was an understatement to say that he was not looking so hot. ( aka mentally stable )

Fortunately, from what Frank could tell, there wasn’t any major physical damage. Ignoring the fact that the man looked a second away from breaking down, he actually looked quite good. ( considering the lack of bullet holes or stab wounds in him )

“You’re looking like hell Red, you good?” Frank asked, ignoring the blatant concern in his tone that he didn’t doubt Red identified. Frank couldn’t help but feel worried for Red, they have been working together a lot recently. Frank - who would deny it but Red would call him out immediately -cared about Matt. They were sorta friends so Frank had all the right to be concerned. ( not as much as he was though )

“Heh- not that I’d know,” There it was, the classic Matt Murdock Blind Joke. Frank was,safe to say, not impressed.

“What do you want Red? I have half a mind to shut my door in your face so you better make it quick,” Frank threatened. Choosing to ignore the fact that, that was an obvious lie. Watching as the smirk on Matt’s face grew,Frank was sure the bastard knew he was lying. ( however he does that Frank still doesn’t know. Despite Matt explaining it many times. “You’re heart stutters when you lie” “What the fuck does that mean?!” )

Matt only shrugged as a response.

“Can I come in?”

Now Frank actually wanted to shut true door on the guys face. You did not ,harass Frank Castle’s door at 2 in the morning without an explanation, and end up alive. Matt was lucky Frank wasn’t in the mood to clean up a dead devil.

“Again. What do you want Red. I’m not asking again.” Frank repeated, tone unwavering. He watched as Matt squirmed, pursing his lips. Frank was intrigued by the reaction to say the least. He wondered what was the situation that made Mr Matt Murdock this uncomfortable. After a beat of silence, Matt cleared his throat.

“I- uh- well- I just don’t want to be alone right now...”

Frank did not know what he was expecting but it...definitely wasn’t that. He was maybe anticipated Matt getting himself in more ninja or mob-boss trouble as his civilian self. Not whatever this was. Frank stood silently, looking at Matt as though he was expecting him to come out and say. ‘Haha, I’m kidding, I ended up on someone’s hitlist and need help’. Fortunately or not, he didn’t end up saying anything along those lines.

“Sorry this is stupid, I’ll go, forget this happened. Sorry again for bothering.” Matt turned his back to walk away. Now Frank was just worried all over again. Matt wasn’t one to trip on his words or excessively apologise. Which was what he was currently doing. Something was wrong with him and god forbid Frank throw him to the curb when he needed someone.

Frank circled Matt’s wrist and pulled him into his home. Shutting and locking the door behind him.

“Don’t be stupid Red, sit yourself on the couch I’ll get you something to drink.” Frank huffed, letting go of Matt’s writs in favour of heading towards the kitchen. Hearing the shuffling of Matt in his apartment, Frank got to making drinks for the both of them.

Frank poured a glass of coffee for himself; he doubted he would be getting any sleep any time soon. And a glass of room-temperature water for Matt. Frank has learned that ambient temperature of water was best for Matt if he was in one of his ‘moods’. Has something to do with his weird Houdini senses or something along those lines. ( Matt has also explained it multiple times - it was nothing along those lines )

Making his way to where Matt was, Frank raised an eyebrow at Matt sitting back straight and hands clasped together at the very edge of his couch.

“Don’t be scared to get comfy Red, the couch ain’t gonna eat you,” Frank chuckled. Furrowing his eyebrows when he saw the other flinch slightly at his voice. Matt was usually always in touch with his senses, being able to hear movement from blocks down if he tried to. The fact he couldn’t detect Frank moving beside him was worrying to say the least. What was more concerning was the fact that he seemed Matt didn’t even process what was said to him. If anything his posture turned more rigid. The fuck was up with him. Matt had never had a problem with making himself at home at Frank’s place. Besides the original awkward tension the first time he visited but even then he looked mostly relaxed.

“Red, relax no need to be a stranger. Here’s some water,” Frank held out the water, making sure his voice was softer than before when talking. After a beat, Matt seemed to hear his words and sagged against the couch. Okay something was definitely wrong with him.

Seeing as Matt made no movement to take the glass, Frank sat down beside Matt and, despite all better judgement, carefully picked up Matt’s hand and brought it up to the glass. Watching as Matt realised what was happening and softly thanked him. Frank grunted in response and moved to drink his coffee. Feeling the caffeinated drink do it’s job.

“So you gonna tell me what all this is about?” Frank asked, ensuring his voice seemed unbothered. He wouldn’t want Matt to feel uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Frank added quickly. Matt’s incessant fidgeting at the question was making Frank fidget. Matt gave him a soft smile which did not make Frank’s heart flutter. ( it did and Matt did in fact hear it ) After a few more moments of silence, Frank was ready to move on and prompt a more relaxed conversation. He stopped himself from saying anything when he noticed Matt taking a deep breath in.

“It’s...it’s just- my dad uh got shot today. I’m usually alright but I’m not sure everything is just... it’s too much today. I can’t trust my senses and i feel like I can’t trust myself - to be alone that is” Matt explains, his voice was soft. If Frank wasn’t right beside the man there was no way he was going to hear his entire explanation.

Frank looked at Matt, like really looked at him. Matt usually carried himself confidently, trusting his intelligence and skill to ensure he could achieve whatever he wanted to. Matt, although clearly having not the highest ego, was sure of himself. The Matt Frank was studying currently, the one who seemed as if they wanted to curl up and hide. Frank noticed Matt’s hands gripping the cup in his hands so tightly, Frank was glad he didn’t use one of his glass cups. This Matt was scared, not only that, but he was visibly vulnerable. This Matt looked as if the slightest tap would shatter him.

Frank wasn’t stupid. He knew what this meant. Matt trusted him, for a reason only god knows, to keep him safe. To not exploit his vulnerability and take advantage of him, using him when he was in a state that it was way to. Frank couldn’t wrap his head around it. If it were some variation of someone wanting to harm Matt, that Frank understood. That Frank could deal. However, this was personal, something that doesn’t allow Frank to help by shooting multiple guns. Frank didn’t get why May didn’t go to Karen or even that lawyer friend of his.

‘Can’t trust myself - to be alone’.

God, Matt really knew how to make a guy feel special that’s a certain.

Again, Frank isn’t stupid. He’s actually incredibly intelligent. He’s an excellent problem solver and his time in the Marine only helped trained his quick thinking skills. He prided himself on being able to get out of any sticky situation.

This was different though. Despite his impeccable problem solving skills. This was new territory. Frank was used to not being trusted, he expected it and was fine with it. Frank was not used to people willingly showing vulnerability to him. He wasn’t used to people thinking he was worthy to trust with the troubles that keep them awake at night. Besides his reputation didn’t do him any favours in looking like a empathetic guy.

Not to mention the fact that the person who is currently doing this is Matt Murdock. It wasn’t that Frank didn’t think Matt trusted him. Quite the opposite actually, Frank knew Matt trusted him with his life. Similarly, Frank shared the sentiment. They both trusted each other to watch the others back and to just be there for one another. They were there for each other when no one else was. Or more specifically when no one else wanted to be.

Long story short, they cared for each other. However, this was still new. They didn’t go to each other and spill their life traumas. Of corse they knew each other had their fair share of shit but it wasn’t a discussed topic between the two. They both understood each other and the fact that they did made them closer than sharing life sorrows would have . Not to mention Matt had never been one to willingly go to someone when I’m trouble. ( trouble that couldn’t be solved with fighting bad guys in a body tight devil suit that is. Actually even then he didn’t easily ask for help ) Despite not knowing what to do, Frank wasn’t going to mess this up. Not purposely at least .

“Do you what me to put on a movie?” Frank asked. Frank knew that Matt clearly wasn’t in the mood to have a deep trauma sharing session. He wasn’t in the right mind and he came to Frank to avoid thinking about it. So Frank was going to make sure they didn’t talk about it, unless Matt specifically said he wants to.

“Not like I’d be able to watch it,” Matt huffed out a laugh. Frank smiled slightly and picked up the remote to turn one on. They did this sometimes, after long missions and patching each other up. Frank would put on a movie, put it on low volume for Matt. Then they would just sit there with each other, winding down after a long day.

It didn’t exactly make any sense considering none of them end up paying attention to the movie. ( and considering one of them is blind and Frank didn’t even turn on those audio description things ) However it was their thing and it did work it calming them down.

It really shouldn’t, neither of them knew why it worked. Maybe it was the fact they were just there, together and alive.

Together, alive and safe.

[whumpingcrow]

Pt.15 "Torture Abroad"

CW: creepy/intimate whumper, divorce mention, parent death mention, drugs/alcohol mention, foster care, beach setting, noncon/dubcon (explicit, 18+), general NSFW and sexual themes/language, broken bone mention, stockholm syndrome-type themes, self injury mention, bat used as a weapon, injury/gore (explicit), knife mention, taser mention, bondage/chains, torture with a bunch of different weapons, bystander watching torture, hallucinations, fire mention, panic attack, tics/tourettes (let me know if I missed anything!!)

"You're going to love it here," August was saying, one of his hands wrapped lazily around the wheel and the other placed on Elias's thigh, "I'm gonna show you so many beautiful places."

Elias was looking out the window at all the deep green trees and lush scenery, in utter disbelief that he was actually here. "You're really from here?"

"Yeah, after my parents got divorced my mom took me to America. I come back all the time though." He turned and smiled at Elias, squeezing his thigh gently. "Beautiful, isn't it? I'll have to teach you some French."

Elias nodded in agreement at the suggestion. "I cannot believe I'm in France." With literal Satan, he thought, then shifted in his seat uncomfortably. The car was nice, a deep red that Elias thought fit August well enough. It was something fancy and foreign, and August had laughed at his surprised face when he walked right up to it in the parking garage of the airport. At first, Elias thought he was going to steal it, but then August had the keys in his hand and inside of the car was a wallet that had one of his older licenses in it. Elias noticed that he drove it with ease, like it was where he belonged, behind the expensive leather wheel, driving much quicker than he probably should be on the winding roads. For a moment, he found himself thinking about how attractive it was, and the realization made him incredibly ashamed in himself, so embarrassed and disgusted that he felt physically sick at it.

They drove for awhile longer, then they arrived at a huge house on the side of a hill, overlooking a beach. When Elias stepped out of the car the chill breeze swept through his clothes and hair, and he took a deep breath. It was beautiful, and he guessed that if he had to be anywhere with August, it may as well be here.

He jumped as August grabbed him from behind, looping his arms around his waist and pulling him close. He placed gentle kisses against his neck, humming with content. "I'm so happy you're here, angel."

Elias sighed and tipped his head back against August's shoulder. "It's so pretty," he breathed, "just... breathtaking."

August chuckled and pulled off of him. "Come on, we'll go sight seeing later," he teased, taking his hand and pulling him down the drive to the house.

It was even more beautiful on the inside; there were large, open windows that the sunlight danced through and soaked over everything it landed on, intricate designs carved and painted on the ceiling and walls, and huge, exquisite paintings that were probably more expensive than everything Elias owned combined.

"This is your house?" He asked August, who was already making himself busy opening a bottle of wine in the kitchen. Elias could see from his spot in the middle of the living room that the kitchen was just as glamorous.

"It was my father's, yeah. He left it to my sister and I after he died. Maybe you'll get to meet her, if she comes around." His voice was lightly conversational, like he was talking about the weather and not his dead dad, but really Elias would have been more surprised if he'd let any emotion into the sentence.

Elias took the wine glass as it was handed to him, looking down at the dark red with his lip caught in his teeth. He couldn't help but chuckle softly, cueing August to frown at him. "What is it?" He asked.

"It's just... I dunno, my whole life I was just tossed around foster homes and group homes and this...this is something I never would have thought would happen." He laughed again, shaking his head. "I mean, I'm drinking wine in France. It's just weird."

August nodded his head, looking thoughtful before finally saying, "I didn't know you were a foster kid."

Elias shook his head, instantly wanting to change the subject. August had seen him crying, begging, screaming, bleeding, August had seen him dead, but talking about his past with him seemed way more vulnerable than all of that. He didn't want August to know about his selfish parents who decided that they loved drugs more than they loved their twitchy son, he didn't want him to know that Elias didn't have any friends until he was in high school because he moved foster homes and schools faster than he could blink, he really didn't want him to know about the way he used to stay up late trying to find his parents online so he could try and contact them, try to convince them to take him back, and cry when he couldn't find them. August had control over him in so many ways, and Elias was going to make sure that touchy, personal information was kept that way. August would never know him that intimately, if he could help it.

He tasted the wine, trying to stay in the moment. He focused on the lush fruitiness of the drink instead of the looming fear of being alone with August. He focused on the way the light illuminated some of the dust floating around the room instead of the despair he felt about being away from Tyson.

"Do you wanna walk down to the beach?" August asked him, stepping closer to him as he spoke. "It'll be dark soon, we can watch the sun set."

Elias smiled at him, drinking some more wine. He wished it was something stronger, being sober around August was just so unbearably frightening. "I never would've pegged you as a romantic," he chuckled, "this wine must be strong, huh?"

August shook his head, taking Elias's wine glass from him and setting them both down on the side table next to the couch. "I've just been too stressed out to be romantic." He looked Elias up and down with a grin, then scooped him up into his arms, laughing at the astonished squeal he let out.

He carried him out of the house and down a short walkway to the beach, setting him gently in the sand once they were close to the water. After Elias straightened himself out, he stared up at August with wide eyes. He looked like he was waiting for something, expecting something, and when August took his hand in his own he flinched a little.

"Why do you look so bothered, bunny?" He asked, stepping closer and running his thumb over the back of his hand. He knew, just from touching it, that this was his injured hand, the one he'd broken with a hammer. The tendons and bones hadn't healed right, they felt mangled and torn up when he pressed against them. The way Elias's face twitched at the reawakened pain was absolutely mouthwatering, August tried to imagine the noises he would make if he very slowly broke it all over again.

Elias plastered on a strained smile, looking out toward the waves wistfully. "I'm not used to you being so gentle with me. Trying to uh...to not let myself get so wrapped up in it."

August sighed at the words, trailing his fingers over Elias's cheek, leaning over and kissing him softly. "You're so smart," he cooed, "but don't worry you're pretty self too much, I'll be careful. You're more fragile than I thought."

A trembling breath shook Elias's shoulders, but he knew that if he allowed himself to cry he would be in trouble. So, he pressed himself flush against August and kissed him hard, desperate for something to numb him. He hadn't finished his wine, he hadn't had any drugs in who knows how long, and the only other thing he knew would distract him from the fear for a moment was...handing himself over to the very thing causing it.

At one point they ended up down in the sand, clothes tossed aside carelessly. Elias forgot how great sex could be, when he wasn't being choked or beaten or butchered. He was waiting for August to turn on him any second, for his tender touches to turn to harsh, aggressive punches, or his sweet words to twist into hateful insults. It would happen any second, it was a miracle it hadn't already. He couldn't even believe how much August seemed to be enjoying it so far, Elias wasn't bloody or bruised up or even crying yet.

"Ah, my angel," August hummed, his lips against Elias's neck, "oh God you feel so good."

Elias gasped, arching his back against the sand. He clutched at August's arm hard, whimpering softly. He was baffled when August began to jerk him off; he hardly ever touched him like that towards the end, before things got messy, instead trying to fuck him until he came, until he was shaking and in tears, begging for help, for friction, for something. He moaned out at the touch, writhing just a little underneath him.

"Ah, fuck, August," he breathed, "jesus christ!" August pressed closer against him, kissing gently at his throat, moaning against his skin.

Once August finished, he pulled off of him, and Elias thought that was it. Yet again, left bothered and unfinished. He sighed and tipped his head back, trying to steady himself. It was ok this way, he had gotten through it without any new bruises or cuts, he wasn't hurt, he could deal with blue balls. But then, August was kissing down his torso, over his hips, on the insides of his thighs. When he started to suck him off, Elias whined loudly and reached down to tangle his fingers in his hair. He could feel August's hands holding him steady, those strong, rough hands that were hovering on the edge of being gentle and inflicting pain on him. It would happen any second now, this time Elias was sure, with how his fingers were tight around his hips.

"Au-August!" He moaned, writhing underneath his grip. He hated hearing himself moaning that name, hated that he was receiving pleasure from someone who he wanted to hate so badly, someone who had hurt him and the people he cared about. Once again, he was repulsed by himself, and he would have pushed August off of him if he wasn't right about to-

He gasped sharply as he came, shaking in August's hands. His breathing was labored as he relaxed, looking up at August as he crawled back on top of him. He felt tears in his eyes, that heavy guilt and disgust in himself weighing him down, pressing him into the sand harder than August was. August took his face in his hands, running his thumb over his cheek gently.

"You're so beautiful, bunny," he hummed, "I missed having you all to myself."

Elias frowned, turning his head to the side so he didn't have to look at him anymore. "It's so weird without you." His voice was faraway, and when August pulled away from him he sat up. "No one understood. I was just fucking up all the time and no one would punish me and I just felt...I felt..." He trailed off, shaking his head. What was it that he felt? He was glad to be away from August when he was, right? So what else could he have been feeling besides relief? Why, when he was looking back on it now, did it all seem so shitty and hopeless?

August sighed, petting his hair gently. "That sounds hard, angel. I hate thinking of you all alone, so lost."

"I had to hurt myself," Elias whispered, "no one else would so I had to do it myself."

August fell silent, then he pulled away and looked at Elias for a long time. The look on his face was undecipherable, Elias couldn't tell if he was disappointed or delighted at what he told him, and he only grew more confused when he let out a short laugh and stood up.

"Come on, little one. Get your clothes on." As he spoke, he pulled his own sand covered pants back on, and Elias got up and did the same. August took his hand and led him back up to the house, now eerily silent.

Once they were inside, August sat Elias down on the couch, wordlessly walking down the hallway. Elias was overwhelmed by his sudden quietness, August always had something to say about everything, and Elias hated not knowing what he was thinking about. It was the same as when Elias told him what happened to his face in the car, the deafening silence that made him feel like any minute August would flip out and just start screaming. As he waited for August to come back and do just that, he grabbed the glass of wine that was taken from him earlier and downed the rest of it.

"Come here, Eli!" August was suddenly calling. Elias stood up with a groan, shuffling down the long hallway. He peered into the rooms he walked past, frowning when he didn't see August in any of them.

"Where are you?" He heard the sound of floorboards creaking distantly, but the all the rooms were too big to really distinguish where the noise came from. When he thought he heard some shuffling in one of the rooms, he ducked into it and looked around, sighing when he was met with silence and an empty room. "August?" He whined.

He cried out when something solid slammed into the back of legs, making him crumple to the ground with a thud. He turned to see August standing over him, a wooden bat swinging carelessly in his hand. Elias scrambled away from him, eyes huge and already full of tears.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" He cried. August stayed silent still, and Elias grew even more panicked as he got closer. He just wanted August to say something, anything at all, so that at least he wasn't as confused. The bat swung again, this time cracking against his shoulder. Elias screamed in pain as he hit the floor, his body lit up in a blinding ache. August dropped the bat soon after, then yanked Elias up to his feet.

When Elias couldn't stand and collapsed against him with a sob, August merely grabbed a fist full of his hair and forced him to stand straight. He couldn't stifle his sobs, they weren't even his own at this point, his pain and fear were ripping them out of him violently. "Ple-please stop!" His legs were weak and battered, but every time he wobbled and nearly fell again, August's hand tightened and twisted harshly in his hair and he forced himself to straighten out again.

August dragged him out of the bedroom and down the hallway, not waiting for him when he stumbled and tripped. As they approached a flight of stairs, Elias's panic grew further. He couldn't even walk right as it was, how was he supposed to conquer stairs?

As it turned out, though, he didn't have to try to wobble down them, because once they got to the top, August unceremoniously shoved him down the hard steps.

He landed hard at the bottom, breathless and dazed from the pain. He choked on broken gasps, his chest tight from not being able to breathe. When he heard August's steps coming down the stairs he let out a hushed whine of fear.

"That looked painful," he remarked, crouching down to inspect his face, "I thought you'd catch yourself."

Elias finally gasped in a breath, groaning in between coughs. August hoisted him up again, giving him more support since he really couldn't stand on his own this time. "Ah fuck," he sniffled, dropping his head toward his chest, "ow..."

After a few more steps, Elias's arm was yanked up above his head, earning an agonized howl. He felt cold metal wrapping around his wrist, snapping shut. When he looked up, his arm was raised above his head by a chain bolted into the ceiling. As he stared at it in horror, August secured his other arm as well, then let go of him completely.

Elias's shoulders and wrists were screaming, he couldn't stand on his own, and without August he was left drooped over, dangling by the chains. He began to rethink everything that happened before that moment, trying to figure out what he did wrong to warrant this painful and humiliating punishment. Had he spoken out of turn? Was it because of his behavior on the plane? Or because he had almost refused to come with August? He started to cry again, quiet whimpers now in replacement of his loud, panicked sobs from moments ago. When he ticced, a whole new pain coursed through his body.

"I'm s-so fucking sor...sorry!" He choked out, looking up at August as he cried. "Please August, please, I'm sorry!"

August grinned at him, at his desperate begging, at how ruined he looked, slumped over under the chains. "You're so gorgeous, Eli," he praised, turning away from him and beginning to dig through a bag against the wall. He pulled out a large camera, and Elias let out another hopeless sob. "You're so much prettier than Allen, you know that?" Elias didn't know why he would say that, he didn't care about Allen or how pretty Allen was or which one of them August liked more, he couldn't care about anything stupid like that, not when his world was painted bright red with suffering. He snapped a picture, and Elias flinched at the flash, just as he always did. "Stay still, bunny."

Elias did as he was told, hoping if he pleased August enough he could be let down. The flash went off a few more times, and as August lowered the camera, Elias collapsed in on himself with a quiet, agonized whimper. "Please Aug-August, it hu-hurts so bad..."

August began to dig through his bag again, and Elias screwed his eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pain. His shoulder, the one that took the blow from the bat, was on fire now, his fingertips numb. When he felt August's palm against his waist, he relaxed a fraction. It was over, he told himself, August was going to let him down and comfort him now. But then something cold was pressed against his ribcage, and just as he opened his eyes to see what it was, a burning pain jolted through his entire body. He convulsed at the shock, his teeth hurting from how hard he bit down. It seemed to last for hours, and when it finally stopped he collapsed further, now exhausted and in an insurmountable degree of pain. It couldn't get worse than this, and if it did Elias thought he just might die.

"Oh, you're so quiet now, little one," August sighed, grabbing his face and forcing him to look up. Elias caught sight of a small handheld taser in his other hand. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Elias sobbed, nodding feebly. "No m-more."

August smiled at him, then tased him once again. This time, Elias let out a guttural, agonized scream, writhing against the chains. This time it went on for so long that when it stopped, Elias passed out, only held up by the chains. When he came to, he looked up at August with tear stained cheeks and hopeless eyes. He wasn't begging anymore, couldn't get the words out, but the look on his face was just as good. August could have stared at him for hours, for days, if he kept making that face. He would give up food and water and oxygen and sunlight if it meant he could stay down here in the basement with Elias and just look at him forever, observe every inch of his body and how it reacted to the pain, memorize all the different ways he could scream and beg, taste his tears and see if there was a difference in the ones from torture and fear. He wanted to know Elias, inside and out, in all the most vulnerable ways, in ways that no human should ever know another.

But he couldn't do that, he had plans. That would have to wait. And besides, they had all the time in the world now, with no one knowing where to look for them.

"I've gotta run to the store, ok?" He said, his voice teasing. "You wait here and be good, and I'll let you out when I get back." He ruffled Elias's hair, watching his face sink further into despair.

"No, please! God please let me down it hurts!" He tugged against the chains, panic ripping through every muscle as he thrashed against his restraints. It was useless, August was already walking away, ignoring his pleading.

It felt like he was gone for hours, and Elias had a headache from the stress and how much he was crying. He was so exhausted, the pain was so intense he couldn't think straight, it was all a jumbled mess blurred together by the delirium of his injuries. Every now and then he forgot where he was, had to lift up his head, which felt like it was made of lead, and then remind himself that he had somehow found himself in a basement in France. Of course it would end up like this for him. Of course he would finally leave the country and go somewhere nice just to end up chained up in a basement.

When he finally heard footsteps on the stairs, he began tugging at the chains again, eager to get out before he even saw August. He didn't notice the other voice until August was at the bottom of the steps, a stranger at his side. Elias froze in confusion for a moment, then the insane aching all over his body pushed past that and he pulled at the chains again.

"August p-p-please let me down please I can't ta-take it anymore!" His gut twisted when August and the man laughed at him, and he had to try really, really hard to not start crying again.

"You look tired, angel," August teased, then turned to the other man, "je pense qu'il très fatigue." (I think he's really tired.)

The man nodded along with him, looking him up and down in curiosity. "Oui, mais il est beaux. Oh, regarde sa précieuse petite tête." (Yes, but he is beautiful. Oh, look at his precious little head.)

Elias let out an agitated sob, going weak at the hopelessness. He didn't know what they were saying, just that they sounded like they were talking about an animal they were discussing purchasing. August stepped forward. Elias noticed he smelled like booze, then he noticed his lopsided smile matched the one the man behind him was wearing. They were both drunk, and that meant Elias was undeniably fucked. August ran his hand through Elias's hair, pleased at the broken cries it caused. "Exhaustion looks so good on you, Eli." With that, he turned away and grabbed his bag, the same one he'd been hiding his camera and taser in, the same one Elias had kept wondering what other torture devices where hidden in while August was gone, prompting Elias to scream again.

"No! No more, please, please August!"

His begging was futile, August closed in on him quickly with a huge butcher knife, sliding it teasingly against Elias's chest before actually using it. When he started slicing into him, it seemed rather reckless and Elias was horrified he was going to do something irreversible to him. After he got bored of the knife, he sauntered back to the bag to look for another instrument.

Elias was covered in blood already, and he realized that his legs were completely useless by now, the chains in the ceiling were the only reason he was upright. He heard August say something in French again, and when he looked up to try and be as much apart of their conversation as he could, he saw that the stranger he had brought down with him had his phone held up, recording all of it with a satisfied grin on his face.

August used a belt, next, causing Elias to positively shriek in pain every time it made harsh contact with his already cut up body. Every now and then, he would stop what he was doing and step close to Elias, whispering so that only he could hear him, saying "you're so perfect like this, my love," or "you have no idea what it does to me when you scream like that, bunny" and it made Elias want to throw up.

He must've used everything in his bag on Elias. He'd hit him with the belt, cut him with a knife, shocked him, beat him with brass knuckles, burned him with a torch, and those were only the ones that Elias was present enough to understand what was being done to him. After all of that, he got lost in the waves of pain and the sounds of his own screams and begs, and then he was unaware of whatever tool August was using to cause it all.

They left the room without a word, or maybe they did say something and he was just too drunk on the pain to notice, when they were done, leaving Elias alone and trembling and lightheaded. His body felt fuzzy and disconnected from him, but the pain was still all too real, too intense. A flash of light caught his eye from the side, and it was nearly impossible to lift his head enough to see what it was. His vision was swimming at the movement, it made him instantly nauseous, and he had to squint really hard to be able to see clearly. When he was able to focus, he was even more confused. Was it...a fire? As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the tiny flame started to grow bigger, slithering up the wall on the other side of the basement. Elias wasn't sure of the when or why or how the fire started, all he knew was that it was getting bigger so fast and he was chained up and couldn't move and he was going to be burned alive.

"August!" He tried to scream, his voice so strained and broken up that it was hardly audible. He doubted that August heard him, and then he was even more horrified. The fire was getting closer and he couldn't even call for help, there was nothing he could do. Then he wondered if August had done this on purpose. It made sense, he had chained him up and hurt him so bad that he couldn't move even if he wasn't chained up, made him scream so loud that no one could hear his cries for help, then he lit a fire so he could kill him. It was a well orchestrated plan, Elias had to give him that, and he never even saw it coming.

What he did see coming, though, was the fire, now climbing up the ceiling and creeping across the floor toward him. As much as he could in his broken state, he scrambled back toward the wall, the chains rattling uselessly above him. He was going to die, he was going to die and there was no saving him this time.

He was surprised when he heard himself scream another time, he must've been so scared he forced his shredded vocal chords to work for a moment. "August please help me!!" He shrieked, closing his eyes tight so he wouldn't see the flames that would engulf him any second.

When he felt hands on him, he let out a measly, horrified squeak, cowering away from it, thinking it was the flames he was so horrified of. "Elias what is wrong with you? Why are you screaming?" That was August, talking to him now. But why was August here if he was trying to kill him? And why was he asking him why he was screaming?

When he worked up the courage to open his eyes, the fire was gone, August was standing in front of him. Elias gasped a few times, he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath. "The...August..." He sobbed as August began to take the chains off. "There was a f-fire. A hu...huge fire, in the corner." He collapsed right against August's chest as soon as the chains were off, felt his arms wrap around his ruined body to catch him before he fell right to the floor.

August lowered him to the floor, then pulled away and pushed his hair out of his face to inspect him further. He was frowning as he looked into Elias's panicked eyes. "Oh, you poor thing, you're hallucinating," he spoke like he was talking to a child with scraped knees, "there's no fire, angel. It's all ok, you're ok."

Elias looked around the basement again, there was no fire, no burn marks anywhere. "B...But I saw it." Thanks to the final scream he'd let out, his voice was just barely above a hoarse whisper. "I saw it, August."

August sighed heavily, then he stood and hoisted up and over his shoulder. Elias whimpered at the harsh movement, but he didn't mind the pain so much when he realized that August was taking him back upstairs. He was so relieved when he realized that going upstairs meant that the punishment was over, that he wasn't going to be engulfed by flames or simply left to dangle under the chains all night. It was over, he told himself. He counted to ten, it was over. He was set down gently on the couch, it was over. August was speaking to him, but he wasn't listening because it was over, and that was all that mattered.

[harmoni-me]

Hello! I’m not sure if your requests are still open but, if they are here you go! I wanted to ask if you could write me a request of Nagito Komaeda x a reader who is the ultimate Chess Master? I kinda wanted to imagine him falling in love or already dating his S/O who plays chess as a professional and is more on the kinder side when it comes to him. Good luck! 💖

Ooo! This is such a unique concept, and I absolutely love it! Writing it was an absolute joy! Thank you so much for the amazing request <3

Nagito Komaeda x Ultimate Chess Master Reader!

The ultimate nurse, the ultimate swords-woman, the ultimate photographer…everyone in this class seemed to posses such interesting talents. It made you feel quite jealous, in some sort of way.

Now, of course you never thought of your talent as boring, useless, or unnecessary in the slightest! After all, you were the Ultimate Chess Master. You believed that everyone should try chess at least once before inflicting their nasty opinions on the strategic game. Unfortunately, that was already too late when it came to…basically your entire school life.

In Elementary, you would ask the kids on the playground to play a quick game of speed chess, because you thought it was a fun way to spend time with friends! But all you got in return were child-built insults, saying that chess was stupid and boring. It’s quite ridiculous to admit, but those comments still float around your mind sometimes. Kids were harsh, still are…

In Middle School, you had a few close friends, and when you asked one of them to try playing a game of chess with you, all they did was look at you weirdly, a look that only seemed to scream “uh, are you serious?”. This was when you started to question your liking for chess. Was it that weird? Am I the only one my age that thinks that chess is actually a fun game?

Now, you were sitting in class at Hope’s Peak Academy, a school full of the elite, yet…

This was the first time you felt truly, whole-heartily ashamed about your love for the game of chess.

“Are you kidding me? Chess? You got into this school for an old-people game like CHESS!? Pfft-!” A girl in twin blonde pony tails and an orange kimono let out a shrill of laughter.

“An…old people game….?” You muttered to yourself, steadily becoming a little closed off from the rest of the class.

You’re love for chess was parallel to how you played, which was almost unbeatable on a professional level, yet…

Why were these comments crushing your heart? Why did it make your love for the game waver?

Class continued like normal, just a little lecture to start off the rest of our high school lives. You honestly weren’t paying attention, your focus more attentive to your little chess notebook, filing it with strategies you wanted to try against high-level computer AI.

Though, it would be nice to have even a complete beginner to play with every once and awhile, though, you might be asking for too much.

Thump

Great, more harassment.

You turned around slightly in your seat, and looked down at the ground it see a crumpled piece of notebook paper that had hit you in the back. You picked it up, and looked around to try and figure out a potential culprit, but it seemed as if everyone was acting normal. No dice, then.

Unfolding the messy ball of paper as quietly as possible, you read what seemed to be words written on the inside.

Meet me in the library today after school, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to be seen with trash like me

The wording on the letter was…strange, but that didn’t stop you from feeling a tiny firework of joy in your heart. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel more nervous than joyous due to how the letter was written. It was surely vague, but it really seemed like the writer as quite the low self esteem.

You were suspicious, but honestly, what could go wrong? It had to be someone from the class that you were just introduced to, so at least it’s not like a blind date sort of thing…

The more you thought about it, the more it actually seemed like a blind date. Nice.

Time seemed to move incredibly slow for the whole rest of the school day, but eventually, the bell had rung, and you were out the door in a heartbeat.

After a little while of asking for directions to the school library, you finally reached your desired location: An absolutely humongous cavern of probably any book one could think of.

Only a couple of students were residing in this literal book mansion, and none of which you recognized.

“I guess they’re not here yet…” You mumbled, sitting yourself by a large, lit fireplace. As the warmth from the flames licked your skin, steadily causing you to naturally relax all of the tensed muscles that were stuck to your bones.

You pulled out your phone, and automatically started a game of online chess with a random opponent. The game was done in a mere ten minutes. The other player was no doubt new to the game, but that’s ok, you were there once too.

You suddenly heard a subtle clunk next to you, making your gaze wander to that direction. It was that boy from your class, the lucky boy. You remember him clearly because you thought his hair resembled a fluffy cloud. The two of you made eye contact, his foggy green eyes squinting a bit when he smiled at you, warming your heart a smidge.

“Y/N L/N, correct? I hope you don’t mind my presence, though it’s ok if you do, I would never blame you on something that’s not your fault.” The thin male crouched down to take a seat on the floor with you, sitting cross-legged.

“Yep, that’s me…and I actually kind of appreciate the meeting, honestly. Even if you just came for simple company, I think that’s very nice of you, especially since everyone in the class already thinks my talent is boring and all…Nagito Komaeda, right? I’m happy to meet you.” You shot a warm smile to the boy, causing him to reciprocate.

“You’re too kind to such untalented scum like myself, all I have is the Devil’s luck, after all! I can’t even control any of it! So I’m glad someone like me can be used as a stepping stone for you to be a beacon of hope!” Nagito chuckled, humored by his own self loathing.

You flipped your whole body to face the living incarnate of a four-leaf clover, “Well, um, on a personal note, I don’t think you’re scum. At all. I think your talent is anything but boring…I also think you’re…quite kind, for hanging out with someone like myself.” Fiddling with your uniform sleeves in nervousness. You just want him to feel better about himself.

The boy went quiet, his smile dwindling from your comment. Was he not used to compliments?

After a few moments in silence, Nagito gazed into your eyes, a new type of smile prettily stitched onto his features. It was almost like this expression was more…vulnerable, uncovering itself under layers upon layers of facades. His face almost made you breath out a sigh of relief at how comforting and relieving his genuine expression was.

“I would like to play with you. I-If you would let me, of course.” Nagito gestured his hands downwards to the chess set he had placed onto the ground since the very beginning. And how did you not notice that? It may or may not be the fact that the boy in front of you seemed to be way more intriguing.

You’re eyes widened as sudden happiness started to flow through every vein within your body. The excitement washed over your soul, rejuvenating it’s prior state of melancholy dreariness. Was…he was serious, right?

“Really…?” Was all that you managed to squeak, causing the lucky student to tilt his head in wonder.

“Hm? Well, of course…I don’t really know who else I would be aski-“

“C-Can we please play speed chess!?” You sputtered, the passion and the fireplace flames reflecting off of your eyes to reveal in an enticing glow.

“Speed Chess?” Questioned the frizzy-haired boy, though he did seem quite interested at your sudden burst of energy.

“Yeah! It’s also commonly referred to as Blitz Chess, and it’s like chess, but you have a very short amount of time to make your moves! It’s super duper fun, and if you want even more fun, then we could also play Bullet Chess! It’s even faster, and a game only takes roughly three minutes if you…keep up…the…pace…” Your words started to get quieter and more mumbled. God, you totally forgot the two of you were in a library, how embarrassing….

A hearty laugh spilled out of Nagito’s mouth, the corners of his lips turning upward to the ceiling. You looked down in pathetic nature. That was totally something to laugh at…

“Though I would consider myself a newbie when it come to chess, speed chess sounds lovely.” Nagito smiled, his pointer finger playing and twirling around the queen piece’s crown.

“Ah, a-alright, well, lets get started, shall we?” You stuttered, with joy obviously evident within your voice.

                                       .   .   .

Unsurprising to you, you had won all three games of speed chess against Nagito, though, it was surprising how close each game was. the more you thought about it, the more you realized his luck most likely aids him whenever he plays. Definitely one of the most interesting opponents you’ve been up against, whether it would be for casual online play, or in-person tournaments.

“Ah, bummer, I guess someone as useless as me shouldn’t even try to come close to beating you!” The boy ruffled his cloud-like locks, laughing at his loss.

“Hey! You had me worried for a few turns there, you were no pushover at all, Nagito!” You proclaimed, frustrated on why he would still think that, even thought the game results were all obviously pretty close.

“Also, please don’t say that your useless…it makes me really sad, because it’s not true at all.” You looked up at him with eyes that reflected something that had never burned so brightly before, and Nagito noticed.

Those eyes, previously clouded from the despair given from others, were now shining with a glimmering hope…and he drew that out from you…by simply playing a mere few games of chess.

For a moment, and only for a moment, he believed your words. Maybe he wasn’t so useless, he helped you find your smile and joy, right? Maybe…maybe…

“Oh yeah!” You shot up, causing Nagito to snap out of his thoughtful daze. You stuck your hand out to him, waiting for reciprocation.

“A handshake, to wish a good game among equals.” You encouraged the boy, wanting for him to fully indulge into what it was like to play the game in a professional, yet somewhat casual setting.

The boy looked at your hand, observing everything. Your nails, your fingertips, your knuckles, all the way down to your wrist. Equals, huh…

Nagito then slowly reached out to your hand, grasping onto it gently, yet it felt like it was the most comfortable fit he could’ve imagined. He wanted the warmth from your soft skin to seep into his cold hands, wanting that heat to slowly fill the rest of his frozen body, all the way up to his thawing heart. Though he didn’t linger any more on the handshake than he needed to, not wanting to make it uncomfortable for you.

But god, did he want to hold on forever.

[vlindervin7]

I love ure fics, i was thinking maybe a kieu my/fatou one where they're in fatous bed and the cash queens come over, and then idk how it'd go it depends if it's pre/post fatou telling them about kieu my but basically just cute awkwardness from them and not knowing what to do/say and the cash queens realising kieu my isn't the ''ice queen'' they thought she was 🥰🥰

Can u make a fic about Kieu my and Fatou cuddling on their bed and kissing, pure fluff ✨from Kieu my’s pov

Here to say that I loved your kieutou works! Thanks for sharing them with us! Could you write something about the girls still being unsure about the relationship because they don’t know kieu my well and them witnessing how fatou and kieu my are together? It could be after everything is solved between the cashqueens and kieu my (she has apologized to ava for the past) but the girls aren’t still 100% sure of her feelings for fatou and get to see how soft kieu my is for her.

Read on ao3

Fatou is looking at her and the weird thing, the slightly uncomfortable thing, is that Kieu My wants her to keep looking. Her gaze is hot on her, scalding, and it almost burns uncomfortably, but it’s just on the right side of too much, like a hot shower after a winter day. Usually when people look at Kieu My she has the impression of standing on a podium, under bright spotlights, focused on the play she’s putting on. Fatou’s gaze is like a breeze that catches her off guard and caresses her face, makes her shiver, but feel held, too. It’s like she said that one time: Fatou sees right through her. She’s not party Kieu My to her, not popular Kieu My, not the picture perfect pretty princess she pretends to be. She’s just Kieu My, in her purest form. And Fatou loves her for it. She doesn’t even have to try.

She doesn’t have to try.

She doesn’t have the words to describe how incredible that feels. Sometimes it feels like nothing comes naturally to her. Every single thing she does, every person she interacts with, is a challenge she needs to overcome, something she needs to adapt too. But with Fatou… With Fatou the only thing she ever had to actively try to do is staying away from her and not fall too deep. She miserably failed at that, clear by the fact that she’s currently in her bed and in so deep she can’t remember what the outside of it looks like. Effortless.

She’s snapped out of her contemplation when Fatou shifts on her side slightly and reaches out to stroke her cheek softly like summer.

‘What are you thinking about?’, she asks.

Kieu My hesitates for one second, before recalling her freshly made realisation that around Fatou it takes more effort to hold back than to let her in, so she answers truthfully. ‘How easy this is.’

‘This?’ Fatou’s still absentmindedly moving her thumb against Kieu My’s cheek.

Kieu My gestures between the empty space separating their two warm bodies on the bed. ‘This.’

A smile grows on Fatou’s face. ‘Us?’

Kieu My nods once, and moves closer to Fatou on the bed, until her forehead rests against Fatou’s chest and her arm is around her. She can’t remember ever feeling this safe to just let go.

She stays there for a moment, simply breathing. With every passing second she feels her thoughts slow down more and more, until what’s left is a background buzz she can easily ignore for the feeling of Fatou all around her.

After a while, she lifts her head from her chest and looks up at her. Fatou squeezes her tight, before letting go. Kieu My moves upwards until they can look each other in the eye. And now she’s smiling again.

She can’t help but laugh at how happy she is. She feels so calm and somehow it doesn’t really scare her anymore.

Fatou looks at her with a semi questioning look, but most of it is fond like she gets it, so Kieu My simply shakes her head and kisses her. It soon turns a bit more intense than originally planned, but she doesn’t mind and, by the look of things, neither does Fatou.

She’s just starting to really get lost in the feeling of Fatou’s lips on her when a sudden knock on the door shocks her right out of it.

***

When she knocks on the door and then passes her head through the crack in the doorway when there’s no answers, Ava is met with the sight of Fatou and Kieu My quickly sitting up as if suddenly caught doing something private. Ava figures they were in a way, judging by the state of their hair and the sheets, the embarrassed looks they’re sending each other. Especially Kieu My, usually exuding such strong confidence, is looking anywhere but at Ava, possibly in an attempt to hide how flushed she is.

‘Can we come in?’, Ava finally asks, referring to Nora and Mailin standing behind her in the hallway.

Fatou checks her phone and, upon seeing the time, grimaces. ‘Sorry’, she mumbles sheepfully. ‘We lost track of time.’ She looks at Kieu My when she says it, and she seems to relax the slightest bit seeing Fatou’s expression.

‘It’s fine, chibi’, Ava answers. And it is. She knows Fatou doesn’t mean it and wouldn’t deliberately forget about their meeting. Who can blame her really? She’s so in love Ava can feel it radiating off of her.

‘We get it’, Nora says, with a teasing smile, making her way into the room and settling on one of the poofs. Taking on an old lady voice, she continues, ‘I remember being young and in love.’

Fatou lifts her hand to half-heartedly hide behind, says ‘shut up’ and drops it. ‘We lost track of time.’

‘We’d gathered, yeah’, Mailin answers from where she’s now sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Ava, now being the only one still left standing, makes her way to Fatou’s desk and sits down on the chair. She considers the bed for a second, but with Fatou and Kieu My on it, it suddenly feels like it should be just heirs, a small space carved out for them in the midst of the room, their own private island.

She notices Kieu My still hasn’t said anything since the girls walked in and has avoided eye contact beyond the small smile of greeting, but she also notices Fatou’s hand moving closer to Kieu My’s on the bed and Kieu My’s shoulders relaxing when she finds it, like Fatou’s touch is the anchor she needed to pull herself above water.

‘So are we still up for lunch?’Ava asks finally, pointedly glancing at what Fatou’s wearing, obviously still the clothes she slept in, but then she makes sure to catch her eye and smile to make sure she understands that she’s not upset.

She doesn’t think any of the girls mind waiting a bit longer. They’d been so wrapped up in their own worlds lately that they’d failed to take note of how the perpetually bright light in Fatou’s spirit had dimmed over the past few weeks. It’s especially obvious seeing her now, with that sparkle in her eyes and smile that would take more effort to try to suppress than to constantly wear. Her little quips come quicker and more often like when they first became friends, and she’s always been the warmest person Ava’s ever met, but now she seems to point that warmth at herself, too, instead of giving it all away and leaving herself shivering.

Of course!’, she Fatou reassures quickly and loudly, ‘I just uh. Need to get dressed and all that.’

She looks at Kieu My then, just a raise of her eyebrows in question, and Kieu My answers with something between a shrug, grimace and smile. Ava doesn’t speak fluent Kieu My the way Fatou clearly does, but she thinks she can safely say she’s uncomfortable. Ava hadn’t really paid it any mind before, but she suddenly realises she’s never seen Kieu My not dressed up before, bare-faced and bleary-eyed, wearing one of Fatou’s old t-shirts. She looks surprisingly vulnerable, holding herself differently like she’s shed off all her armour. It makes sense, Ava thinks, for her to surrender in the safe presence of Fatou, but she probably wasn’t prepared to forget all defences when it comes to Ava, Mailin and Nora. It almost makes Ava want to look away.

‘The reservation’s at twelve, so we have a little time left’, Nora comments after checking her phone, and Fatou looks away from Kieu My upon hearing her voice.

She hesitates a moment before saying, ‘I’ll be quick’, and making to get out of bed, but Ava stops her. She knows why she hesitated, and while, since Kieu My apologised to Ava and they smoothed everything out, Ava’s completely fine with the idea of her being Fatou’s girlfriend, she admits that she’s still not entirely comfortable around her. She’s never spent much time with her after all, but Fatou’s possibly the person she loves most in this world. She should get to know her girlfriend.

‘Are you coming with, Kieu My?’, she asks then. She’ll start as soon as possible.

‘That would be cool!’, Mailin adds, and Nora is enthusiastically nodding from her place on the pouf. After smiling at Ava gratefully, Fatou turns to Kieu My with her puppy eyes fully turned on, and even before Kieu My gives in Ava already knows she won’t stand a chance.

‘Yeah, sure. Thanks’, Kieu My says, looking at Ava in particular. Ava recognises part of the same sentiment she just felt reflected in Kieu My’s eyes. Maybe they haven’t found much they have in common yet, but they can start building a bond stemming from their shared love for Fatou.

She gets up from the bed, clearly wanting to get dressed as soon as possible. When she does, Fatou falls on her back and stretches out her arms with an angelic smile on her face. ‘Help me up?’

Kieu My fondly rolls her eyes before obliging and pulling her all the way up and out of bed. Fatou drops a kiss on her lips when she’s finally out of bed, and Kieu My flushes but she lets it happen.

‘We’ll be back’, Fatou exclaims, grabbing Kieu My’s hand and pulling her out of the room.

After the door closes behind them, the girls catch each other’s eyes and burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of their friend. Ava ‘s so happy to be back on good terms with them. The few weeks they were fighting was so hard for her, even though she maybe didn’t show it. She truly loves them a lot and to feel so completely misunderstood and taken for granted by the people who are supposed to have her back always is not an experience she’d care to repeat. They all need to do a little better.

It doesn’t take Fatou and Kieu My much time to get back to them, the waiting filled with chatter and laughter. Ava doesn’t mean to listen in on their conversation, but she’s sitting the closest to the door, and as much as tries to block it out, she can’t help but overhear Fatou ask, ‘You feeling okay now?’, standing in front of the door to her room, clearly waiting to make sure Kieu My is comfortable before rejoining the others.

It’s quiet for a moment in which Ava imagines Kieu My is nodding or something similar. Then, in a quiet voice she answers, ‘Yeah. Just felt like I was violently being woken from some perfect dream. I wasn’t prepared.’ She says the last part accompanied by a laugh as if trying to brush it off, but knowing Fatou, she’ll take it seriously.

It’s silent again, for a slightly longer time. Ava tries not to actively imagine what’s happening to give them privacy, but she has an idea anyway. Her brain doesn’t have the same moral compass as she herself does. After a few minutes, Fatou breaks the silence and whatever else that’s going on, ‘Ready now?’

When Kieu My laughs this time, it sounds much more genuine. ‘Ready. Love you.’

‘Love you, too.’

When they enter the room, Ava pretends to shake herself out of something she was reading on her phone. She doesn’t know if she’s convincing, she’s never been much of an actress after all, her emotions right there for everyone to see, but she thinks the girls are too wrapped up in each other to notice, either way.

‘Let’s go?’, she asks enthusiastically, getting up from her chair.

‘Let’s go!’, Fatou cheers, pulling the others into her infectious excitement, holding Kieu My’s hand and smiling blindingly at Ava.

Yeah, inviting Kieu My was definitely a good idea, Ava decides. There’s not many things better than seeing her chibi so completely happy.

[concussed-to-pieces]

Late July

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Pairing: Agent Whiskey [Jack Daniels]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit explicit.

Summary: Upon hearing about you from Tequila, Jack Daniels seeks you out with a full set of emotional baggage to work through. You happily oblige, helping him craft a scene that just might grant him some peace of mind. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @cookiethewriter @culturalrebel @jackierey09 @crookedmoonsaultpunk @duker42 @agirllovespasta @nelba @pedrosbigdorkenergy @lestrange2703 @youmeanmybrain @luvley-shadow @theocatkov @miscellaneousjunkk @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @buttons-beads-lace @gooddaykate @lackofhonor

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains consensual non-consent (surrender play), light domination, roleplay, unprotected sex, frank discussion of safe words, usage of safe words, dirty talk and light bondage. Remember that fanfictions are not research and that you should never engage in any activity if you do not trust your partner. Stay safe!]

There was just something about you that put people at ease, and Ginger Ale noticed during the interview process. "You have a gift!" She had praised you, her smile unexpected and bright. "I can see why Tequila recommended you for this position."

Granted, being the 'head of first impressions' at a distillery that was actually a front for a secret intelligence agency had its ups and downs, but you enjoyed the work and (if you were honest) the exciting interactions with the Statesman agents. 

Tequila, of course, would practically drape himself across your desk as he regaled you with (hopefully) exaggerated tales of his heroics. The two of you were sexually involved but preferred to keep each other at arm's length out of the bedroom, neither party particularly keen on surrendering your freedom and committing to anything serious at this point of your lives. You admired his dedication to Statesman, and he in turn respected your desire to have a successful career. He also was blatantly mooning over a certain analyst.

Ginger Ale was quieter and sharper than Tequila, her dry humor a joy to witness. She was the one who had done your interview, and she had given you the full behind the scenes tour once your background check went through. She was beautiful, charismatic and smart as a whip. You hoped to one day be as self-assured as she was.

Champ tended to keep to himself for the most part, though you had encountered him several times in the past when he dozed off in a certain chair at the end of a sunlit hallway. The elderly man was like an old tomcat, you decided, able to prowl but more than willing to take it easy.

Whiskey was often away managing the affairs of their New York headquarters and as such, was the one that you interacted with the least. He would come breezing in at all hours, a slow smile and a wink directed your way before he would saunter past. The rare occasions that he engaged you in conversation were nerve-wracking, as you were a little starstruck due to the glowing accounts both Champ and Tequila had given of his prowess in the past.

Ginger Ale was a bit more down to earth, thankfully. "He's just a man who's lost a lot, and his reasons for wanting to change things for the better may not be entirely altruistic." She had informed you concisely when you queried about the origin of one Jack Daniels. You had picked up on the veiled sadness in his dark eyes, the age that seemed to weigh him down that wasn't entirely related to years.

So when the aforementioned Statesman agent had drunkenly expressed a certain desire to you at a company party, you couldn't hide a little spike of curiosity. Mainly because the two of you interacted so rarely. Hell, you wouldn't even call yourselves friends. Tequila must have told him about your side activities.

"Ever since I lost her, I can't fuckin' bring myself to raw anyone else." The confession had come out of left field, but you had done your best to play it off like it was normal. Lord knew you had done enough paperwork in your career at Statesman to understand that agents would just kind of…say things thoughtlessly if they believed they were in a safe environment. A hazard of the job.

"What do you mean, Mr. Daniels?" 

"Call me Jack. Jesus, I ain't that old." He had hiccupped sharply, grimacing. "I just mean I...it's like a mental block. I wanna', I'm excited about it, and everything's fine until I try to come and boom. Python shrivels up like a damn salted slug and I'm left holdin' the bag tryin' to explain myself." He stared into his glass, looking pensive. "Real mood killer."

"Any idea why this might be?" You had prompted, leaning against the bar and idly scanning the throngs of people around you. It wasn't every day that so many of the company's rank and file rubbed elbows with the higher-ups, but you had to assume these economic mixers were what had kept the company (and intelligence agency) on such an even keel. It was a grounding experience, a way to remind the suits of their humble beginnings.

He scoffed out a breath. "Oh I know exactly why. When I lost her, I...we had only learned a little while before that she was havin' a baby. We'd been havin' a rocky time and we were actually thinkin' of breakin' up, but that news…" Jack had tilted his head to glance your way, his brown eyes distant. "If I hadn't gotten her pregnant, she wouldn't have been out shoppin' that day, y'know?" A sad smile had quirked his mouth beneath his mustache. "My fault."

At the time, you had made a noise of sympathy and gone to lay a hand on his arm before you could think better of it. He, instead of shrugging off your touch, actually ended up twining his fingers through your own and giving your hand a light squeeze.

Agent Whiskey's past was a shadowy affair in the Statesman organization. Though to be fair, no one really asked anything about anyone. Ginger Ale reasoned that the less people knew, the safer they and Statesman were in the event of a security breach. 

Anything you learned from any of the agents, you tended to keep close to your heart. It was your nature to gather useful information and foster trust for a rainy day. That personality facet had served you well as you had climbed the ranks from intern to head of first impressions, and knowing that you were someone that could be counted on to hold your cards close put many people at ease.

Including one Agent Whiskey.

"Tequila said you were good at helpin'. I'd be much obliged if you'd consider takin' a crack at my sexual baggage."

...

"Alright so for your words, you've decided on 'sixth' as your 'yes I'm into this', followed by second for 'slow down but don't break character', first for 'slow down and do break character' and finally neutral for 'full stop'." You tapped the customary notepad on your lap, glancing over at the man across the table. The two of you were currently sitting in the kitchen of the vacation cabin that your parents had willed to you, the modest dwelling often your staging ground for affairs like this. The warm wooden decor tended to make your partners feel more at ease and less vulnerable. Perceived safety was, after all, incredibly important when crafting scenarios.

Jack nodded. "Gears are easy for me to remember. Simple." 

"Got it. And no kissing on the mouth. Can I kiss you in other places, or would you prefer I didn't at all?"

"Kissin's fine." Jack allowed. "Whatever you wanna' do is fine, just not on my mouth." You jotted that down. "Hey, I uh...I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate you agreein' to help. I dunno' if this will work, but…" Whiskey rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thanks. When Tequila mentioned your...extracurriculars, I figured he was jus' bein' outta' pocket again."

You grinned at that, giggling a little. "Does he get weird a lot?"

"I mean, he's uh...well, he's got his moments." Jack replied with a smile of his own.

"So," you hummed once you had checked your notes again, "after looking over all the information we've compiled, and the ideas you gave me an outline of, I'm thinking that you may want more of a 'surrender-play' kind of experience." 

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask how that's different from what I already suggested?" 

"Look, you and I both know that I couldn't keep you from moving if you wanted to. Now, if we had a real working dynamic going on and I believed that you would listen and trust me implicitly so that you don't end up hurting yourself or me, then we might have something. But as we are right now, that's not gonna' happen." Whiskey inclined his head with a rueful chuckle, acknowledging the truth of your words. "So I propose that it's more of a scenario where all the agency is removed."

The agent leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "Explain."

"You need a scenario where you aren't in control and there's not even a chance of you being in control, taking any responsibility or guilt from the equation." You elaborated. "Basically, you would surrender your control so that you can indulge guilt-free. A lot of people do this coupled with a roleplay aspect in order to test new things that may be out of character for them."

"You coulda' jus' said you wanted to tie me up, sugar." Jack drawled. "I'll show you some good knots."

"You don't have any issues with being secured to...I guess a chair, probably? We'll keep you upright. If we sprawl you out on a bed that might be a little too vulnerable." You reasoned, waiting for his nod before you wrote it down. "I know it sounds contradictory, but I want you to be comfortable in what we do. Should I leave your clothes on?"

"If you can stand to, I'd appreciate it." The man answered with a cheeky wink. "Bein' naked and restrained is a little too close to the job description." He sighed after a moment, tipping the chair backwards as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Now I warn you, if I'm supposed to be an unwillin' party, I may display a little less Southern hospitality and a little more Southern history with my language, if you catch my drift."

You pursed your lips, squinting at him. "...is that your way of saying you might use a naughty word or two?"

You received a lazy finger-gun in reply, "bingo, cherry pie. You got any names you ain't a fan of bein' called?"

"Oh! I mean, I've heard just about everything in the book." You straightened up as a thought occurred to you, and then pointed back at him sternly. "No slurs."

"Ma'am," Jack sounded aghast, "I am not that breed of Southern gentleman. My lingo can verge on the spicy, but I sure as hell wouldn't stoop to that level." 

You narrowed your eyes to drive your point home. "I really hope not." The agent inclined his head once more, putting a hand over his heart in a display of sincerity.

The front legs of the chair met the floor with a soft clatter, once again putting him on stable footing. "Now, I been wrackin' my brain tryin' to drum up a good premise like you asked, but I ain't exactly big in the screenwritin' department. I figure it could be kinda' like I'd been kidnapped? Drawin' a blank on why my kidnapper would be rawdoggin' me, maybe you can come up with somethin'?" He queried hopefully. 

You furrowed your brow in thought, going silent as you carefully considered the hodgepodge of contributing factors. "Oh, I think I can manage."

...

This deck had been rigged from the start. In theory, you knew that he knew that. Still, he was certainly acting like it stung his pride a bit that he'd fallen into your 'trap' so cleanly. 

Everything was going according to plan. 

Whiskey struggled against the binds that secured him to the kitchen chair. His whip was safely confiscated. Lasso out of reach. Hat was still on his head. He had specifications, after all. 

You left him to wriggle for almost half an hour while you got yourself ready. The man was a secret agent, after all. If he hadn't been restrained for much longer than that at any given point you would be very surprised. 

You finally opened the bathroom door, sauntering out into the cabin's small kitchenette. "Miss me, love?" You crooned, committing to your role as villainous vamp stereotype number six. You had worn a plain set of underwear and an oversized white t-shirt, soft and see-through from the amount of times it had been washed. You got the feeling that if you went more elaborate, you might scare Whiskey off or make him too uncomfortable to really get into it. This scene was all about trust, and he hardly knew you. But he had sought you out for this. All you had to do was follow through.

"Was beginnin' to worry that you forgot about me, ma'am." The agent drawled back, his smile tightly sardonic and his low voice curling hot in your belly. "You fixin' to untie me yet?"

You clicked your tongue, the noise disappointed. "Whiskey, sweetheart, where's the fun in that? If I untie you, you'll just kill me."

"Can't blame a man for tryin'." Jack was absolutely in his element right now. He looked furious. 

You ambled around behind him, slinging your arms around his neck and resting your weight on him briefly. "Remember," you murmured in his ear. "If you need me to slow down, or need to stop entirely, you say…?"

"Second, first and neutral." The agent replied readily. You patted his cheek.

"Good boy." You praised. 

"Ain't my first rodeo." Whiskey's tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips and you wanted to reassure him, but you knew you had a job to do.

"Now, can I get you a light refreshment? Something to drink? Maybe some chips?" You offered, moving to the small refrigerator that you had stocked a little earlier in the day. Planning was imperative for engagements like this. "I have water, sweet tea, Coke…"

"Dammit woman, stop beatin' around the bush! Why the hell do you have me hogtied to this damn chair?!" Jack erupted. 

"So rude." You chided him, removing a water for yourself and then leaning casually against the counter. "You really want to know, Mr. Whiskey?"

"Obviously." He scowled.

"Well be a patient boy and maybe I'll tell you." You hummed, not making eye contact as you unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "It was more than enough trouble for me to get you here in the first place, big shot. Don't rush me."

"Listen, I'll be the first to tell you that I probably ain't who you're lookin' for." He said bluntly. "I'm just a simple liquor tycoon, nothin' more."

"Mr. Whiskey, if you continue to insult my intelligence maybe I will decide I've got the wrong man. And then I'll just get rid of you." You swirled the water in the bottle, fixing him with a thoughtful look. 

"You're talkin' a mighty big game, woman." Jack grumbled. 

You sloshed some of the water on your thin white shirt as if by accident, and began daubing at the gauzy fabric aimlessly. "Whiskey-"

"It's Jack." He spat.

"Oh, we're on a first name basis? How exciting!" You teased him, laughing when he muttered angrily under his breath. He was clearly enjoying the role of 'belligerent definitely-not-a-spy'. "Alright then, Jack. I won't beat around the bush, as you so tactfully put it."

"Hallelujah, some goddamn cooperation." He replied in a sulky tone.

"So, Jack, I need you to come inside me. Strictly so I can bypass Statesman's biomechanical security systems. It's nothing personal, I just assumed you would be the easiest target, you know?" You remarked with a shrug. "The flirty cowboy with the filthy mouth." He stared at you and you raised an eyebrow, half-convinced that his reaction was legitimate. "What? You do have a reputation."

"I hate to break it to ya', but you got the wrong beverage. You're lookin' for Tequila, ma'am." Jack retorted, his voice a little raspy. "You want...what?"

"I need you to come inside me so I can use the your genetic signature to bypass the security." Granted, you were pretty certain that Statesman used exclusively fingerprints, retina scans and time locks, but Whiskey had told you to weave a good story for the setup, not necessarily an accurate one.

Jack swallowed hard. "You've got bats in your fuckin' belfry, woman. You expect me to-"

"Oh no, that's the beauty of this arrangement." You interrupted him, still smiling. "I don't expect you to do anything aside from sit there and stay still while I ride you." 

"Jesus fuck woman, you--shit, isn't there some other way to do this? I ain't keen on the prospect, but if there's literally any other way…" 

"Sorry. This is the only solution that my superiors could get behind." You sighed, feigning regret. "And we might be here a while, from what I've heard." Jack's eyes darted to yours and he flushed, working his jaw. "Don't look so glum! I'm one of the best in my field. I'm sure I'll be able to compensate for your...lack of investment."

"You touch me and I swear to God-"

"Ah ah, naughty boys get gagged." You threatened gently, walking your fingers up the side of his face to stroke them back down his jawline. Jack glared at you, his dark gaze fairly luminous with fury and maybe just a touch of poorly-veiled interest. "Be a good boy and I'll let you talk as much as you want. Maybe I'll even let you play with my tits, hmm?" You asked, cupping your breasts through your still-damp shirt. "Would you like that, love?"

"I…" Jack trailed off, then snapped his eyes back up from your chest. "No!"

You tapped his nose, winking. "Oh I think you would. Don't be so stubborn, Jack." You cocked your head to the side. "No one from Statesman even knows you're gone. No one is coming to rescue you." You informed him, all the playfulness evaporated from your voice. "You're mine now, Jack. My own personal key-card."

"You won't get away with this." Jack snarled.

"I think I already have." You knelt between his legs, running your hands over the jeans that covered his thighs. He squirmed, trying to dislodge you, but you just moved with him. You dug your nails into his thighs. "You keep wiggling and I'm going to have to tighten the ropes, Jack. Is that what you want?"

"Oh you filthy fuckin' woman, you absolute bitch, let me go!" 

"Hmm," you tapped your chin as he kept jerking and straining against the knots. "No." 

Jack froze when your fingers unbuttoned the button at the top of his fly. "Now wait, wait just a damn minute, y-you can't--" he tried to plead.

"Oh I can. And I will." You looked up at him. "As long as we're in the right gear?"

"Sixth, sixth." He affirmed, flashing you a quick smile. You nodded and seamlessly resumed your play.

The zipper of his fly opened devastatingly slow, the agent exhaling raggedly when you pulled up his shirt and palmed his groin gently through the fabric of his boxer briefs. His cock was already half-hard, and you pointed that out with a mean little smirk on your face. "Oh no, looks like someone's interested." You crooned, rubbing your index finger over the head of his still-clothed dick.

"Fuck off, you...y-you-" he swore, rolling his shoulders as if he was testing his bonds. "You little bitch."

"Temper temper." You chided, ducking your head down to mouth over the fabric of his boxers. Jack gasped out another swear over your head, his hips twitching up to meet you before he slammed them back down. "Methinks someone doth protest too much." You snorted, splaying your fingers on the newly-revealed skin of his stomach. "We could make this so much simpler if you would just give in, Jack." You didn't miss the way his skin jumped at your touch, and you smiled against his boxers.

"You'll--you'll have to do better than that." Whiskey breathed. "You think just any ol' woman can get me up?"

You stood, leaning in close and pressing your mouth to his ear. His whole body flinched when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gave him a nice, slow stroke. "Oh, poor thing. You must believe you're really special, hmm? God's gift to mankind every time you take someone to bed." You mocked, your teeth and tongue laving over his earlobe. "We're all so lucky to have you, Jack."

"Hhn-" Jack's shoulders went stiff, the man obviously biting his tongue. 

"You don't have a choice, sweetheart. I'm going to get you hard. Then, I'm going to use your cock. And all you have to do, my lovely, handsome cowboy, is come inside me." You informed him, drawing a finger beneath his chin. "More than once, preferably."

"I'm not usually a man to voice my own shortcomin's, but I must warn you that this will be a futile-" Whiskey's words hitched in his throat when you stroked him again. "Fuck, no, don't touch me like that, you--"

"Stop playing hard to get, Jack." You murmured, slinking your free hand up the back of his neck to massage his scalp right beneath the band of his hat. "Give up."

"Never." He hissed even as his head lolled forward, granting you more access to rub his neck. 

"Pity." You settled back down between his legs and wrapped your lips around his cock. 

"No, no, dammit-" Whiskey growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Don't you fuckin'...no, no, don't use your tongue the-ah f-uck--" His protest died in a pitiful groan when his cock met the back of your throat. "Oh, you--fuckin'--you've got to be shittin' me woman, the whole-?" He grunted out haphazardly as you relaxed your throat and took him all the way down to the base. "You think y-you can take advantage of me jus' cuz' it's been a while since I got laid? Fuck you."

You hummed around his cock, wanting to giggle when he twitched and swore loudly. Your fingers dove past the hem of your underwear, and you moaned against him as you ran your index in slow, steady circles around your clit. 

"I ain't fuckin' you, and I sure as shit am not gonna' come in your pussy." Jack snarled. 

"Oh yes you are." You sang, rising to your feet and slipping your panties off. The white t-shirt came next, baring your breasts to the air-conditioned environment. 

Jack seemed to forget that he was supposed to be vehemently against this yet again as he just...watched while you teased your nipples. You tugged at the taut peaks, rolling them between your fingers and making a show out of the whole bit. 

"I can't wait to have you inside me, filling me up, just pumping me full of your come." You said with a smile, sauntering over until you would be in reach if his hands were free. Jack's tongue made a nervous reappearance and you tugged his chin upwards so you could see his eyes. "Are we still in gear? Or do we need to shift?" You asked. He seemed slightly dazed.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, s-sixth." He stammered. "Sixth, holy shit."

"Mm. Don't disappoint me and maybe I'll let you live." You remarked smoothly, swinging one leg over his lap and straddling him. Jack's shoulders were rigid again and you kneaded at them surreptitiously, trying your best to keep him in the scene and out of his own head.

You were well on your way to soaking wet with arousal. There was nothing better than when you had a partner that trusted you, regardless of whether you had truly earned that trust. Just the fact that they had blind faith in you to execute the endeavor that they needed...it was heady and sweet and you loved every second. 

You rutted your pussy against the underside of Jack's cock, the man snapping his teeth at the sensation. "Too good?" You taunted, laughing when he swore again.

"I can't believe that you think I'm fuckin' enjoyin' th--look, any dick perks up at heavy pet-" 

Cutting Whiskey off mid-sentence was quickly becoming a favorite pastime, you realized as you angled your hips and let the head of his cock push past your pussy lips. "In, just a little, give you a taste, sweetheart…" you sighed, rocking your hips forward and back but not allowing him to sink any deeper into you. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" You cajoled as he shuddered beneath you. "Just keep being good, my sweet cowboy, and this will all be over so much sooner." 

"No, no-" He struggled to move, to do anything, but you had made certain to tie him exactly as he had specified. "Dammit, when I get free of here, I'll--"

"Shh, you think too much." You tapped your index finger to his lips, smoothing it over the bristle of his mustache. "Focus on your job right now, and everything will be fine." 

Jack turned his face away, inadvertently presenting the thick column of his neck to you. And you, channeling your inner villain, leaped at the opportunity to lick and bite at the bared skin. He made a strange noise, a combination of a moan and a whine that had you raising an eyebrow. 

"Is someone a little sensitive there?" 

"No, I am not." He answered through gritted teeth. "I hate that you're touchin' me, that's all!"

"Hmm, it doesn't sound like you hate it." You mused, suckling gently at the spot where his jaw met his throat. You were very careful not to leave marks, as that had been another specification. Whiskey struggled underneath you again, only succeeding in pumping his cock up into you slightly.

"Don't, don't--" His voice actually cracked and you smiled, nuzzling your nose beneath his jawline and letting his dick settle deeper.

"Oh no, it seems like you do want to fuck me after all." You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back and stroking over the base of his cock with two fingers. "Warming up to the idea of being my little fuck toy, Jack?" You teased, noting the way his knuckles whitened from his grip on the rope and his Adam's apple bobbed with the force of his convulsive swallow at your words. "I could just keep you here like this forever, you know. All tied up, helpless for me…" You squeezed the base of his cock and he gasped, trying to stifle the noise. "Soon, I'd have you trained so that you couldn't come from any other pussy aside from mine. Wouldn't that be fun?" 

Without waiting for an answer, you let the last few inches of his dick enter you. You leaned back on his thighs, feeling the muscles coil and strain beneath your touch as you reached down and grazed your clit. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, those brown eyes fixated on the motions of your fingers even as his cock split you open. You were grateful that he was secured, you weren't sure if you would have been able to take him otherwise. His cock curved thickly against your back wall, the engorged head throbbing back and forth over the area that made your whole body shudder in delight. 

Whiskey's jaw was taut, his shoulders set in a rigid line that made you ache to get him to come undone in you.

"You're so quiet." You pouted, raising your hand and brushing your wet index finger over his slack lower lip. "Aren't you having a good time?"

His chest abruptly expanded, like he had forgotten to breathe for a moment or two. "Fuck you." Whiskey seethed, making you chuckle softly. "I ain't nobody's goddamn fuck toy."

"Sweetheart," you chided as you sat up. "That's not a very nice thing to say to the person warming your cock right now." You deliberately clenched down on him and Jack swore under his breath, shaking his head. "I can make you feel so good, Whiskey, if you just give me what I want." You insisted, cupping his face and pulling halfway off of his cock. 

"N-N...No." He replied weakly.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking out your shoulders. "Well, I tried." Your hands landed on his shoulders and you gripped down to steady yourself, your hips meeting his own with a wet slap! of skin. Jack's chest heaved, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you began to ride him roughly. "All I wanted was for you to come in me. I don't feel like that's asking for much!" You complained petulantly, rolling your hips against his when he was hilted in you with an agonizingly slow grind of your body.

Jack bit out a low "fuck," those tense shoulders trembling under your touch. You tucked your face into his neck to tease the sensitive area even more, your tongue tracing random patterns that made him squirm and writhe underneath you. "I don't--can't, can't, don't make me--" he tried to protest, his words fractured and pitiful. 

"Yes you can, and you're going to." You snapped, taking a handful of hair at the nape of his neck so you could urge his head back further, leaving his throat at your mercy. "You're coming in me, Jack! Give up!"

...

"First!" He choked out, and you immediately slowed to a crawl. Your touch on him gentled significantly, no longer demanding but cradling, caressing. 

"Easy, easy." You soothed, the unrelenting assault of your perfect hips gone to a slow and careful rhythm, back and forth like a porch swing in the summer heat. Your eyes searched his own, concern shining through.

Jack was speechless, his blind panic melting away at the sound of your regular voice. What the hell just happened? He licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they had gotten. "Sorry, I uh-"

"No apologies." You murmured. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Would you like to stop now?"

Whiskey took a long moment, running a mental check on his body. Nothing was sore, nothing seemed out of line. Everything was raring to go. 

Everything aside from his brain, that is. The damn thing wouldn't stop conjuring up scenes of you pregnant and everything going to absolute fucking shit. It didn't matter that he had zero attachment to you, it didn't matter that you were on birth control. This was how it always was. 

Every damn time things got serious with a new interest, "oh, let's start a family," Whiskey just wanted to curl up into a ball. Without fail, like clockwork, he would shut down. 

And then the accusations would start, the distrust, "How come you can do it with protection but not without?" and it was disheartening, crushing to go through again and again. Explaining didn't seem to do a lick of good, it was always just that he was stringing people along, that he was a damn selfish prick, that he didn't care about what his partner wanted.

That couldn't be further from the truth, of course, but maybe that was his own fault for not dropping the bomb before getting attached to someone. He just couldn't ever seem to justify asking a person on their second or third date, "hey so what's your thoughts on having kids?" It felt manipulative, cheap, and if he was being honest, he knew for a fact that sometimes just the idea of having children was enough to scare a potential interest off. 

You were the first person to try and help Jack really wrap his head around this whole issue. And yeah, that was the whole point in sussing you out, but…

Tequila didn't tell him that you actually gave a shit, or at least you were damn good at acting like you did. Whiskey bit his lip. "I'm okay." He said finally, trying for a smile.

"Anything chafing? Do you need some water?"

"I…" Jack trailed off. "Huh, I admit I am a bit parched. But that means you'd have to get up." He realized unhappily.

"Were you enjoying yourself?" You asked, sounding curious. 

Whiskey got the hysterical idea in his head of you pulling out some sort of satisfaction survey at the end of your engagement, the notion making him smirk slightly. "God, yeah. I...yeah." He flushed a little bit. "Dunno' if I ever got this far after…after all my mental hangups and stuff. The fact that I don't have a say in the matter seems to be helpin', though."

"Okay, don't go anywhere. I'll get you some water." You patted his thigh, cautiously settling your feet on the floor and then going to stand with a quivery little gasp that absolutely stroked his ego.

Jack couldn't help his own groan at the loss of your heat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Damn it woman, has anyone ever told you that your pussy is fuckin' perfect?" He muttered, his usual honeyed words suddenly clumsy in his mouth. "I mean, hell."

You laughed, bending over to dig in the small fridge for another water. Whiskey felt his entire body throb at the sight of you presenting yourself to him like that, and he sucked in a breath at your obvious teasing. Even in the soft light of the kitchen, he could see the glisten of the wetness between your legs. Hell yes, he found himself thinking stupidly as you turned back around. 

"I'm just glad that you're doing alright. That's the most important part to me, after all." You assured him, unscrewing the cap on the water and tipping it to his lips.

Jack gulped greedily, feeling a few droplets escape his mouth and run down his neck to blot his collar. "I am. One hundred percent." He said firmly after he had slaked his thirst. "Let's keep goin'."

"If you're sure, absolutely." You acquiesced, smiling again. Placing the water bottle on the kitchen table, you then swung your leg over his thighs like you were vaulting back into the saddle. Jack held his breath, waiting for you to welcome his cock back into your body. And God he was so hard, he couldn't remember ever being this hard, what the hell--

But strangely, you didn't immediately resume from where you had left off. Instead, you put your arms around his neck and actually rested your forehead against his own, bumping his hat upwards. 

Jack swallowed roughly, confused. 

"Let me take this from you." You whispered. Whiskey felt pinned by your stare, he felt as if you could see every terrible thing he had ever done, every transgression laid bare under the weight of your gaze. "Let go of it. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you." 

The words washed over him, soft and sweet. Your fingers slipped up into the hair at the nape of his neck to toy with the mussed ends that lurked there. The whole exchange was oddly intimate and Jack found himself at a loss yet again, simply grating out, "sixth," when he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

You reached down and stroked his cock, rubbing the head of it against your clit. And Jesus he could feel you, the difference in heat, the slick--

"Are you gonna' take it from me, sweet girl?" He hissed through his teeth like it wounded him to ask, trying desperately to cling to the illusion that he wasn't willing. "Take everythin' I've got?"

The blur between reality and this playdate was getting messier by the second. He wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself in you, spend every last drop inside the hot embrace of your quivering cunt. He wanted that. Jesus Christ, this wasn't part of the bargain.

This was a pantomime, specially designed pornography that existed only to coax a very specific reaction from his confused body. So why did he wish he had met you years ago? Why was he suddenly hoping and praying that the sounds you were making were legitimate instead of exclusively for his benefit, hoping that you were also enjoying this?

You angled your hips and sank back down on his lap, your hands going to your breasts where you proceeded to fondle and tease them until your nipples looked like they ached.

Whiskey fucking ached himself to wrap his lips around one pert little peak, swirl his tongue across the tip and make you come undone, rut his dick up into you until you cried out his name and soaked him--

Whoa cowboy, he chastised himself, a little startled by how sharp the longing was. You just kept fucking yourself on his cock, that hot, wet little pussy molded perfectly to every ridge of his member and he had never been this hard, this ready in his life. Despite the air conditioning in the cabin, your skin shone with sweat from all the work you were putting in and Whiskey couldn't recall a time where he had been more appreciative of someone else accomplishing a task within his field of vision.

Your hand slipped down, down, and Jack found himself following the trajectory until it delved between your legs and you started playing with yourself. "Jack," you crooned his name and it was like a prayer, reverent and soft, tender enough to coil itself around his lungs and choke him to death without a whisper of protest. You parted your legs even wider in his lap, exposing yourself to him so he could watch his cock slide in and out of you, so he could see himself fucking you open.

"Are you gonna' come for me, sweet girl?" He gasped, craning his neck and managing to tilt his head so he could mutter into your ear, "you just gonna' wrench one out for me, beautiful?"

"Mm, no, I'm not coming until after you come." You whimpered, still moving your hand. "But I'm so close, Jack. I want to come."

Your plaintive whine had him ablaze. God, he had never wanted to please someone so damn badly in his life. "I know you do, sweet girl." He murmured huskily, exhaling hot over the shell of your ear and loving the way you quivered in his lap. "You're so good, lettin' me blow my load before you get off--gonna' pump me dry when you come, aren't you? Just keep me inside you until that little pussy is all fucked out," he growled, barely aware of the words that tumbled from his mouth. 

All he knew is that you were all a-tremble at his voice, your body as hot as late July against his chest, your eyes heavy with adoration that he did not deserve and God, he couldn't get used to that look even if it was fake. What if you stayed? he wondered absently. What if you stayed?

Oh fuck, he was about to come. Panic jabbed like the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades and Whiskey went silent, his teeth bearing down on his lower lip and his eyes slamming shut as he focused harder than he ever had in his life.

The smell of you, the sounds, the heat, the little spasms of your cunt around his cock…

Yes. Yes, God yes, he could do this-- 

"Come in me, sweetheart." Begging him, pleading, demanding, "Jack-!" You cried his name.

Whiskey groaned hoarsely, so low it was almost painful, and let go. He bucked his hips up against you as best as he could, minute little thrusts while he came harder than he had in years. "Oh," he snarled, gritting his teeth, "fuckin' Christ woman, I think you've ruined me, Jesus fuck."

Your hands threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck again and you held him, not tightly, but just enough to keep him steady, anchored. "There," you said abruptly, the snide, put-upon tone of your role contrasting wildly with the gentleness of your touch, "was that so difficult?"

Jack burst out laughing, not overly concerned with how strange of a reaction that was. Hell, was he relieved? "Jesus fuckin' Christ, you're great." He remarked breathlessly. "I don't even know what just happened."

"Oh?" You replied, raising an eyebrow. "The mess between my legs seems to allude to you possibly having an orgasm. Jury's still out though."

He grimaced apologetically, glancing down. "Sorry darlin'. It's been a while, y'know?" You rose up off of him again and he grunted as his cock slipped free from your body. Whiskey felt half-drunk, relief and release combining into a potent cocktail that left him boneless in the chair. 

You quickly put your shirt back on and then crouched at his feet, beginning the arduous process of untying him. Jack just sat there, watching you drowsily. He couldn't do much else, really. "Any numbness or chafing?" You asked quietly, stirring him momentarily from his daze.

"Nah, nothin' yet." He replied, straightening his freed left leg and rotating his ankle in his boot. "A little stiff, but I've survived worse than that." 

"And how do you feel?" You questioned, "physically and emotionally."

Jack gnawed at his lower lip, trying to force his sluggish brain past the haze of serotonin in order to give you a satisfactory answer. "...good." He said finally, scrambling to elaborate, "or uh, better, I guess. More okay than I've been in a fuckin' while." It wasn't a lie, he was surprised to discover. He hadn't actually put much stock into this endeavor, figuring it would be a fun little diversion that would end just like every other time. Of course, it didn't hurt that you were easy on the eyes, prettier than a peach if he was being honest with himself.

Your smile was bright and Jack's stomach knotted confusingly. "I'm glad."

His right leg was released and he shifted his weight in the seat, groaning happily when his hip popped. "Hey, wait." The agent belatedly realized, "you didn't-?"

"We were here for you." You reminded him. "Not me."

"Whoa now, that don't seem fair at all!" Whiskey protested, taken aback by your nonchalance. "You just put in all the work!"

Your laugh tripped down his spine like an aftershock. "Don't get bent out of shape! It's standard policy, Mr. Whiskey. Once the desired result of the scene has been acquired, the scene ends and I start with aftercare."

"B-But--you didn't get to get off though!" 

"Me 'getting off' wasn't specified in our planning." 

"I needed to specify that shit?! I figured you'd just kinda'..." His right arm was free now and Jack seized the opportunity to make a certain gesture, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, I was at your mercy!" He continued, bewildered. "You totally coulda' just kept goin'-"

"Yes, and that's exactly why when the desired result has been achieved, the scene ends." You interjected firmly. "Because you trusted me enough to let me take control, and I'm not about to break that trust by doing something selfish on a whim."

Jack exhaled hard, scooting his hat a little further back on his head so he could study you. You didn't look disappointed, or annoyed with him. He wondered how many times you had fielded ignorant questions like his own and he cringed at himself. "I'm...shit, I'm sorry. I don't have any right to be all shitty about it." He apologized as you moved out of his field of view to untie the rope securing him to the back of the chair. "I just feel like you worked so hard an' got nothin' out of your end of the bargain."

"It's sweet of you to be concerned about that, but don't take it personally, okay?" You assured him, "I do this because I enjoy it. The whole experience, not just the finale." The ropes around his chest sagged and Jack slid forward a bit in the seat, relaxing. 

"Can I get that water again? Christ, I need a cigarette and a tumbler of the strong stuff after all that." He joked, clumsily tucking his cock back into his boxers. You pressed the bottle to his hands and he nearly dropped it, chuckling self-consciously. "Whups, sorry. I had my fists all bunched up so my fingers are stiff." Jack proceeded to down the rest of the bottle, wiping his mouth and mustache with the back of his hand after the fact. "So...what exactly is it you do for Tequila?" He queried nosily.

You laughed at him and God, God he loved the sound of your laugh. "That, Mr. Whiskey, is on a need-to-know basis. Just like this little soiree between the two of us." You chided, your eyes bright with good humor. "I would never violate a partner's trust in me."

Jack tipped the bottle in your direction, as if making a toast. "I'll drink to that, partner. What's next on the menu?"

"We'll talk out the scene and wind back down. Get cleaned up. I'll probably…" you paused, squinting at the clock over the sink. "You want some pizza? There's a joint not far from here that serves pies and chicken wings until midnight."

Jack groaned appreciatively, "I knew you were my kinda' gal. Lead the way to the debrief, ma'am."

It didn't really matter in the long run, he supposed. You obviously weren't interested in anything serious (if only because he figured that your flings with the stereotypical 'bad boy' Tequila would have become more regular in spite of the younger man's painful crush on Ginger Ale), and he could respect that. Still though, he couldn't help feeling a touch morose over the possibility of never engaging with you again. 

He toyed with the idea of asking you for another 'appointment', but dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it arrived. Better to quit while he was ahead.

Or rather, he amended ruefully as he settled down across from you in the diner booth, his hair still damp and curling slightly beneath his hat from the quick wash he had indulged in at your cabin, better to quit now before I make even more of a fool of myself.

Part Two

[dented-nado]

Sweet B

Short drabble of Bruce trying to be, what he thinks would be a “better” boyfriend for Clark!

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

It was still baffling to Bruce, even after 2 years of living with Clark, sleeping in the same bed as him, that this sunshine man adored by so many, had somehow ended up being with him of all people.

Bruce didn’t do relationships. It wasn’t that… on a deeper level he craved that kind of closeness with another person, it was that it was just hard. Probably harder for him than most. He had been going to therapy to quite a while now, but he still just struggled with being honest and vulnerable and communicating with his partner.

Clark was always so patient. So, kind. He seemed to understand it took Bruce some time to come around… so he’d wait for him.

But Bruce… Bruce felt like Clark shouldn’t wait for him. Shouldn’t be so patient.

Because he deserved better.

He deserved a partner that knew how to do “the little things” that would make him happy.

A partner that would leap into his arms and kiss him to welcome him home every day.

In short…

Bruce was half terrified of Clark becoming bored or frustrated and leaving him… and hoping on some level that he’d “wake up” realize he could do better and find someone that could be all of that and more.

Bruce loved Clark so much it hurt.

It hurt because he wanted to be so much more than he was. Even if Clark would never ask him to be anything else.

Just because Bruce had stopped actively pushing people away… didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling not to think those things. Think about how those around him would be better off without him in their lives. Would be better off if he hadn’t somehow tricked them into wanting to be around him.

He thought through all these things, as he did often, as he found himself gazing at Clark fast asleep next to him. Bruce felt slightly, quietly soothed at the large arm that was draped across his waist as the larger than life man’s chest rose and fell peacefully.

“I want to give him everything.”

It had been so long where he felt this strongly about someone, to the point where his chest ached and his breathe stuck in his throat. When the occasional thought of Clark not being in his life one way or another crossed his mind, it was enough to make him begin to tear up.

It was bad. He lectured himself for it, but he couldn’t help it.

He adored this man.

He just wished he could show it better.

What did most couples even do? What would Clark like? Could he… pull it off?

 In true Batman fashion, the next day Bruce was quietly forming a plan…. Researching… strategizing…

While Clark was gone and when he wasn’t focused on his typical CEO or Batman business, he was reading article after article, research papers, opinion pieces… he felt a little silly reading extensively about “love languages” and “Cute cuddling and positions to try in bed”… actually he felt ridiculous and wound up deleting his search history every 10 minutes after he fully read through something.

“But this is for Clark.”

He knew Clark had a hopeless romantic in him. The one-time Bruce brought him flowers because that’s what he usually did for second dates, Clark had gone pink in the cheeks and admired them gleefully for a solid 15 minutes gushing about how “I’ve never gotten flowers from somebody before! Now I get it! This is so sweet!”

But knowing that made Bruce even more confused as to why the hell Clark had decided he liked him that way in the first place. He had to be the opposite of romantic.

That was going to change. Starting now. He’d throw down every possible romantic gesture he could.

Then maybe… maybe he’d feel like he was giving Clark back enough for everything that he gave him.

He was about to head down to the Batcave, Clark was about to head off to his monitor duty shift.

Bruce felt a knot in his stomach, but he had made his choice… he was committing to this.

“Clark…” He called out before the man could take off.

“Hmm?”

Bruce approached him, tugged him down slightly by tugging on the part where his cape attached to his suit.

“I’ll… I’ll miss you.” He followed this statement up with a friendly peck on the lips. He really wished he hadn’t stammered, but practice made perfect he supposed.

Clark blinked at him a few times and looked at him quizzically before leaning in and returning the kiss.

“I’ll miss you too B, I’ll see you in the watchtower in a bit.”

“I… look forward to it.” Bruce responded, trying to make a move of straightening Clark’s cape despite it being perfect already.

He read about couples making moves to straighten the others clothing in order to encourage closeness. It was a little awkward however when your partner was in a skintight suit.

Clark gave him a funny look before affectionately moving some of Bruce’s hair out of his face just before disappearing in a blur.

Bruce took stock of how the plan had gone so far on his way down to the cave.

He had been more awkward than he intended, however, Clark seemed to return the gestures, so perhaps this would just take more acclimating to and wasn’t a total flop.

It was joining Clark up in the watchtower before a league meeting, he was dreading the most.

Clark had lamented in past when Bruce had banned any shows of intimacy while they were around other league members, and both were in costume. He had never pushed it though… yet Bruce’s rules were strict to the point of many of the core league members not even knowing they were together as a couple.

Clark had respected those rules, and Bruce had appreciated it… and yet…

He was going to break his own rules. He was going to break his own rules for Clark’s sake.

Still… it was terrifying to him about showing something like that in front of his work colleagues. He envied all the couples that had no problem showing the world how they felt about each other. Even if it looked incredibly sappy and sometimes, he wondered if they were showing off…

Clark would like that, wouldn’t he? To be openly loving and affectionate?

Clark already hid so much of himself… and he was making him hide more…

Bruce shook his head as he made his way into the meeting room. He couldn’t go into beating himself up if he wanted even a chance at pulling this off.

“Spooky has arrived!” Hal announced as usual.

Bruce grunted.

Clark turned to him to make his usual distant acknowledgement of Batman’s presence, only to pause and look incredibly confused as he realized Bruce was making a beeline for him.

“You’ve got this Bruce, just like you practiced.”

He wrapped his arms around Clark’s left arm and stood on his tip toes so he could reach Clark’s cheek and leave a small kiss on it.

“Hi~” He greeted in a very un-Batman way.

He was worried for a second as Clark looked at him in pure shock with slightly pink cheeks.

“Br… Bat… wha…” Clark stammered.

Bruce faltered for a second, heartbeat picking up nervously before he made an attempt to smooth it over.

“I told you I’d miss you.” He slowly unwrapped himself from Clark’s arm, running his right hand along it affectionately before briefly gripping his hand as he pulled away. “Can’t a guy say “hi” to his partner?”

He let go and sat down… slightly proud that he had Clark stammering so much.

“I… uh... but you… um …  h…hi…”

Batman smiled at him, ignoring the rest of the core team looking a mix of bewildered, amused, and slightly terrified.

“Well what do you know… spooky’s heart isn’t made of ice after-all!” Hal said with a big grin because of course he had to comment on it.

“Or maybe it was made of ice, but leave it to Superman to thaw it! That’s so… cute.” Barry added.

Bruce nearly grimaced at the cute comment.

“This is for Clark this is for Clark, do it for Clark.” He told himself, forcing himself to try and smile ‘adoringly’ at his partner, but he was slightly concerned due to the way Clark’s eyes were darting all over his face, it might just look… scary.

A long silence blossomed in the meeting room.

“Uh… not to interrupt the love birds, but you know your leading the meeting today, right big blue?” Hal commented cockily breaking the awkwardness.

“OH, yes of course. I was … just thinking.” Clark cleared his throat, clearly trying to move to act full Superman and not think about what just happened.

Bruce relaxed and followed suit, able to slide easily back into the comfort of the distant cool and logic of Batman and make comments and critiques where appropriate.

When the meeting ended, and everyone began filtering out. He noticed Clark waiting around… probably there were some questions coming.

So, Bruce waited too, and stood to meet Clark as soon as the room fully emptied.

“Soo… what was that about?”

He had freaked him out, the mission might be a failure.

Bruce thought about it and chose his words carefully.

“I decided…that my previous rules about not being “out” in costume in front of the league were no longer necessary.” He paused. “I… perhaps shouldn’t have sprung it on you, I apologize.”

Clark scratched the back of his head. “Well I mean… okay yes, I’m surprised, I’m… happy that you want to be out about it, excited even but” He furrowed his brows in concern. “B… is something else going on?”

Bruce tried to will his heart beating in his chest to calm down because he knew Clark could hear it.

“I… just want to be around you more.” He said vaguely.

This didn’t seem to completely get rid of Clark’s worries, but he sighed and let it go.

“Okay. We can be around each other more.” He said with a soft smile.

“Good.” Bruce said, feeling more awkward than ever.

He reached out and grabbed Clark’s hand, trying to be “romantic” but he realized, it once again just looked awkward as they stood there with stiff arms and locked hands.

“Uh…” Clark looked down at their locked hands. “You want to get lunch?”

Bruce took a deep breath and pulled himself in, so he was once again clinging to Clark’s arm.

“Sure.”

“Hmm…” Clark replied as they began walking to the watchtower cafeteria.

Bruce couldn’t help but notice glances their way as they walked. It had to look weird… Batman clinging to Superman. He tightened his grip in nervousness without meaning to.

“Hey… B, you don’t have to hold on to me if you don’t want to.” Clark said in a calming, hushed voice.

He had noticed he was uncomfortable; he was trying to give Bruce a way out.

But no… he couldn’t stop now; he had already committed to this.

“…I want to.”

Clark didn’t seem convinced at all. “...Okay.”

Bruce was quickly losing confidence. What if he couldn’t pull this off at all, what if, if anything he was just turning Clark off him because he was just so hopelessly bad at being a good partner?

He bit his lip, trying desperately to think of a way to salvage the situation. He spotted a nearby utility closet. That was a trope in romance movies, isn’t it?

Quickly scanning to ensure no one was currently looking he pulled Clark’s arm, opening the utility closet and pulling it open and yanking them both inside, ignoring Clark’s confused stammering.

“Bruce! What...??”

He pulled his cowl off immediately pressed his lips to Clark, practically climbing on him, at this point hoping to force his way out of the horrific awkward feelings he was having.

He stopped when he felt Clark’s hands on his waist gently pushing him away. He parted, face now fully betraying him in showing his nervousness and uncertainty.

“Bruce, what is going on with you?” Clark said, now looking fully worried.

Bruce’s heart sank. Of course, him, trying to act affectionate… it was so unnatural, so transparently bad, he’d already screwed it up.

“Are… are you dying??”

“What?? No!”

Clark looked wide eyed.

“Am I dying?”

“No!” Bruce bit back. “Why would you even think that?”

“You’re just… acting so weird, it makes me think like… you’re worried you’re not going to see me again?? Why else would you be forcing yourself like this??”

Bruce went still and slowly hung his head. He was really this bad, that Clark would think that something bad was happening before thinking Bruce just wanted to show Clark how much he appreciated him?

He wanted to be mad, but he was just sad.

“…I know I’m not a good partner…” Bruce began, trying to will the knot out of his stomach.

“Bruce… what are you…?”

“I have trouble expressing myself, every time I try to feel affectionate, I feel like I’m doing it wrong, so I don’t attempt it half the time. I never let myself get close to someone, so I don’t know how to act. You… you deserve so much more than that.” He rambled, looking down at his feet.

“oh B…” Clark uttered bringing a hand up to Bruce’s cheek.

“I…I want to give you so much, be so much more for you. Other couples make it look so easy, but it’s so stupidly hard for me.” He admitted almost in a whisper. “I thought… maybe if I threw myself in the deep end, out of my comfort zone… maybe I could be the kind of partner that you should have.”

“Bruce, I love you all of you, you don’t need to force yourself to be uncomfortable for my sake.”

Bruce sighed. “I knew you would say that you damn boy scout.”

“Because it’s true. Bruce, I don’t mind that you don’t want to always be open about us being in a relationship, I understand. And I know all of this is harder for you, and that’s okay.”

Bruce went stiff under Clark’s hands that now rested on his shoulders.

“‘Okay’ isn’t enough. Clark… I know you love romance; I know that just because you respect and understand my rules around not being out, doesn’t mean I don’t know that you would still want those things.” Bruce half-snapped. “You… you can’t keep just putting up with things when I’m being selfish!”

“You’re not being selfish Bruce, its not selfish to have boundaries!” Clark said gripping his shoulders tighter and bending down so Bruce was forced to look at him. “Sometimes, yes, I wish I could say how much I love you every of every day. Sometimes, I wish I could say ‘leave my bat alone because he’s actually the sweetest, kindest man I know’ and sometimes I get pissed off when people treat you like you don’t have feelings or aren’t human, yeah, sure. But there’s no point in going around with you on my arm or announcing those things if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m not forcing myself or making myself miserable by not doing that because I’d feel absolutely horrendous if I forced you out in front of everyone when you’re not ready or don’t want it.”

It was now Bruce’s turn to stare at Clark in shock. “But…”

“Besides, your already do a lot to show your affection in your own way. Like… when we’re sleeping how you’ll curl up against me, or how sometimes when we’re both working in the bat-cave you’ll quietly put your hand on my back or hold my hand… or when you’ll give me the sweetest smiles in moments when you think I won’t notice, or how you’ll laugh openly around me…”

Was Clark… swooning? Thinking about him??

“The point is Bruce… you already do all that effortlessly, I think it’s sweet that you’re willing to go to such lengths for me, but you really don’t have to, okay? Especially when its uncomfortable for you.”

Bruce looked over Clark’s face for a second before sighing and leaning forward so his forehead was on his boyfriend’s chest.

“You have a way with words that I envy sometimes.”

Clark chuckled and ran his hand through Bruce’s hair. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t all bad though…” Bruce said with a quiet smile.

“Oh?”

“It was fun being able to make you all flustered in front of the league… and kind of funny seeing some of the reactions.”

Clark’s chest rumbled as he chuckled. “Well I guess those situations give you the upper hand, so of course you’d enjoy it.”

Bruce joined in on Clark’s chuckle. “It’s true. Maybe that’s the secret formula. There was that one time you were being flirted with by someone you saved that you were being polite as always in turning down and I barely held myself back from kissing you right there as a big “fuck you” to them.”

“You know what, that’s happened to me more than once when you’ve been flirted with or are putting on your “Brucie” show.” Clark admitted.

“We’re hopeless.” Bruce admitted.

“We are. But that’s okay.”

Bruce looked back up at Clark. “But really… Clark… it’s not all forcing myself for your sake, I really… I really do want to get better, learn to be more open again. It’s just… hard.”

Clark kissed the tip of Bruce’s nose, causing it to wrinkle slightly out of Bruce’s control.

“Rome wasn’t built in a day Boo. You don’t have to figure it all out right this second or change on a dime. I know how you are, and how you get frustrated when you can’t get a handle on something right away. But if you really want to be more open, we can slowly try things, but you have to promise to tell me when your uncomfortable.”

Bruce grumbled. “Fine. But you can push me a little more you know… I don’t need to be treated like I’ll fall apart if you hug me in front of green lantern or something…” Bruce gruffed stubbornly.

Clark laughed and pulled Bruce into a hug right there. “Okay okay. It’s a deal.”

Bruce paused. “I did already sort of blow a massive hole in the “slow” thing now that the whole league knows…”

“Well… everyone knows Dinah and Oliver are together and they aren’t clinging onto each other all the time.” Clark pointed out.

Bruce knew it wasn’t Clark’s intention, but now he felt like more of a doofus. He groaned.

“I don’t know how to relationship.” He admitted.

“Well… to be honest, neither do I. Sometimes I wonder how me, an alien, managed to deserve someone like you.” Clark said with a slightly sad smile.

How he deserved him?? Bruce almost felt relieved that Clark had some of the same thoughts, but at the same time he didn’t want Clark to ever think he was unworthy.

“…We need to work on you referring to yourself like “alien” as if it’s a bad thing.”

Clark scratched his neck. “Ingrained habit I guess.”

“You work on stopping doing that and we’ll… both work on reminding each other we’re not unworthy or not good enough to be in each other’s lives.”

Clark’s gaze softened. “Okay... I can do that.”

Bruce moved to re-open the closet door before pausing. “Clark…”

“Yeah?”

Bruce took a deep breath. “I love you”

Despite the closet being dark Bruce knew Clark was beaming at him. “I love you too sweet B!”

[fishingforyolos]

That Awkward Moment When...

What if Dean got Castiel back from the Empty, and DIDN’T confess his love right away? What if instead, Dean and Cas just...didn’t know how to bring it up to one another, and forced Sam to endure the most intense third-wheel moment that he’s ever experienced, while these two emotionally constipated dumbasses sat in awkward silence?

This is here to answer that question.

________________________________________

Ahem.

It was the fourth time within two minutes that Dean had cleared his throat, and pretended to look out the window.

Sam was counting, now, in a desperate bid to distract from the incredible, palpable awkward silence emanating from the front seat of the car.

He had given Cas the front as a KIND gesture. He was being nice! It was only FAIR that the guy who had just escaped from super mega turbohell got to have a free pass at riding shotgun.

Or, so he thought. When he sidled into the backseat an hour ago, he did not anticipate the absolutely lethal levels of weird that Cas and Dean would be radiating—all pretending not to look at each other, conspicuous rubbing of the back of their necks, and god DAMN it Dean was fake-looking out the window AGAIN! There was nothing out there but corn, Dean!! Corn for miles!!!

Sam sat back and groaned. This was one of the most intolerable hours that he had ever witnessed in this godforsaken car, and that was saying something.

He allowed himself to drift off into his thoughts, letting his analytical side take over. Whatever it was, it probably happened in the bunker, right before Cas was taken by the Empty. Dean had been very...vague, about that situation, which only made Sam all the more curious. What could they have SAID to each other? Sam was no stranger to having a tense relationship with Castiel, but...if they were mad at each other, they’d be doing that stupid stony-faced silent treatment. But no, they both seemed too full of nervous energy. Cas was currently rifling through the glovebox, of all goddamn things, and Dean was toggling the blinker back and forth on a two-lane highway.

Click, click. Click, click. Click, click.

“Are these...salted?” asked Castiel, holding up a box of bullets as if they were a sale item at Costco.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” said Dean taking a quick glance, “We bought those for the uh...for the ghosts.”

“I see,” said Castiel, nodding for just a bit too long.

Click, click. Click, click. Click, click.

Sam scrubbed his face with his hands. He had been to hell before, but listening to bad small talk was its own special kind of hell. What happened in that bunker room that would make them behave like-

Like-

Sam’s mouth fell open.

Like the awkward morning after.

“Oh, my God,” Sam blurted, before he could stop himself, “Did-did you two have a one-night stand?”

Castiel dropped the box of bullets.

Dean choked on nothing.

“Sam, what the HELL?!” he coughed.

“Well, SORRY,” Sam said, in a way that he hoped conveyed how NOT sorry he was, “But you guys are acting, uhhh, really weird, and I thought maybe, I dunno-”

He shrugged, and held his hands up in defense against Dean’s murderous glare, “I thought maybe you hooked up! Y’know, last night on earth style!”

“Wha-no. No, no, no,” Dean said again, gesturing forcefully with one hand before pointing directly at Sam, “That’s-that’s not what happened in there.”

“Indeed,” Castiel murmured lowly, throwing a glance to the backseat, “I can assure you, it was worse.”

Dean nearly swerved off the road.

Sam’s jaw fell open again, eyes flicking from Dean to Cas. “W-WORSE?!”

“Oh my FUCKING god,” Dean whispered into the steering wheel.

“What I mean is, it was more...personally humiliating. To me,” Castiel clarified.

Sam blinked several times, trying to process this new bit of information. 

“But I thought...you said, that the Empty's deal was about you experiencing happiness,” Sam said, shifting back into analytical mode, “Does it make an...exception, for humiliation?”

He sat back and grimaced, as he weighed the horrible possibility in his mind. “Is it into that??”

“W-well,” stuttered Castiel, his gravelly voice betraying his discomfort, “Regardless of the...preferences, sexual or otherwise, of the Empty-”

Dean suddenly slammed the steering wheel with his palm.

“Can you two PLEASE, shut up?!” he roared, “And let me fucking DRIVE in PEACE?!”

Sam and Cas fell silent, the atmosphere of the Impala even more tense than before.

Sam put his head in his hands. God, he should have just kept his mouth shut. Or maybe, he should have just taken shotgun in the first place, and stuck Cas in the back. Would've saved everyone all this trouble, maybe.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel said, finally breaking the silence.

Sam pursed his lips in annoyance. He could already tell, simply by the look on Cas’ face, that this was going to be another heart-to-heart where they completely forgot he existed. 

Dean, meanwhile, didn’t react.

“I…” Castiel sighed, “I don’t...mean to make things awkward, it’s just that I didn’t-I never expected to SEE you again.”

“Really, Cas?” Dean exploded, “Really? After all we’ve been through, after all the times we’ve dragged each other out of the clutches of-of Hell, Heaven, you name it, you didn’t-you didn’t even consider the POSSIBILITY that we’d get you out?”

“Of course I considered it,” Castiel said quietly, “It was my most desperate desire."

He sat back, and turned to direct his gaze out the window.

“But there is a sort of...freedom, in confessing directly before death,” Castiel said, speaking a fog onto the window with each word, “All the vulnerability...none of the consequences.”

Sam’s eyes flew wide open as it all finally clicked. 

No way. No way. NO WAY.

He shot up straight, incredulity plastered across his face that the other two were too preoccupied to notice.

DId Castiel...confess his feelings in that bunker? Make a move? Shoot his shot? And then DIE?! 

What the fuck, Cas?

Sam sat back, reeling, running his fingers through his hair as Dean and Cas continued to stare out separate windows. He quite literally didn’t think he would LIVE to see the day that they acknowledged their...thing, and now they were doing it right in front of his eyes.

“I...I meant what I said, Dean,” Castiel said, fixing Dean’s profile with a longing stare, “Every single word. And I still do.”

Sam turned back toward Dean, hunched defensively over the wheel of the Impala. He still wouldn’t look at Cas. 

Please, Sam prayed silently, Don’t fuck this up.

“But, I’m acutely aware that it made things different between us,” Castiel sighed, “And I’m sorry for that. I can’t take it back. However-”

“I love you.”

If he wasn’t literally watching Dean’s mouth move as he said it, Sam wouldn’t have believed his ears. Holy shit.

He whipped his head back to Castiel, who was stopped in his tracks like a deer in headlights.

Even the rain, beating against the windshield at 70 miles an hour, didn’t dare interrupt the moment at hand.

Dean was still staring out at the road, hands gripping the wheel like he was clinging to sanity itself.

“You didn’t let me say it back,” Dean said through gritted teeth, “In the bunker, you just-you dropped that on me, and then you were GONE, and you didn’t even let me say it back.”

Sam’s mouth was agape once again, eyes flicking back and forth between his brother and the equally speechless angel. The air between them was charged, and ready for a lightning strike.

“W-when you say that,” Castiel said, after a solid ten seconds of trying to find his voice, “Do you-do you mean it-”

Dean DID swerve off the road this time, sending Sam sprawling across the backseat as he skidded to a stop on the shoulder.

“Ow! Dean, what the-”

“Yeah, Castiel,” Dean said, finally taking his eyes off the road to fix him with a wild look, “I mean it. Same way you did. When you said that-that the one thing you wanted, you couldn’t have, it-it didn’t make any sense, because I always thought that I was the one wanting what I couldn’t-who I couldn't-”

He sniffled.

“Fuck, I didn’t want to do this in the CAR,” Dean said, wiping his eyes, “Not in front of Sammy.”

“Honestly? I prefer this over the past miserable hour,” Sam said, leaning back, “Do what you gotta do, man. Just...pretend I’m not here.”

Dean actually chuckled at that, but turned his attention back to Cas, who was still blinking in shock.

“Cas, you...you gotta understand,” Dean said carefully, reaching across the seat and cupping Cas’ cheek in a hand, “Come hell or high water, you have me.”

He swallowed hard. “You don’t have to...to want, I-I’m yours, a-already in the bag. Got it?”

Tears tracked down Castiel’s face as he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to stop a wide, tearful smile from spreading across his face.

Dean visibly softened, and brought Castiel’s face in, kissing him right on the mouth.

Sam hoped he wouldn't come to regret the "do what you gotta do" comment, but they broke apart just a moment later to touch foreheads like a couple of saps.

“...Yaaay, congratulations!” Sam said, waving celebratory arms in the air as widely as he could in the cramped backseat. He searched around him and found some crumpled receipts, which he tossed into the front seat. “Whoo! Confetti!”

“Sam…” Dean said, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“I appreciate your jubilation, Sam,” Castiel said, dead seriously, looking back at him with just his eyes, “Your approval means a lot to me.”

"Hey,” Sam said, clapping Castiel on the shoulder, “This changes nothing. You're still like a brother to me, man. You’re still family." 

Cas smiled at him. “Thank you, Sam.”

“Aww, look at that smile, Sammy,” Dean said, tapping Cas on the cheek, “Look at it! How could anybody resist that smile?”

“I dunno, Dean, it’s pretty easy when you’re not in love with him,” Sam smiled.

“Welp,” shrugged Dean casually, as he shifted the car back into drive, “Guess I wouldn’t know, then.”

Sam was taken aback by the...ease, with which all that just rolled off of Dean’s tongue. 

“God,” Sam groaned, “You’re going to be an INSUFFERABLE couple.”

Dean just laughed, light and loud, as he merged back onto the highway, offering out his right hand.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Castiel said, taking the offered hand with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, "But as you can see, I cannot resist his charm."

Sam rolled his eyes at that, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. It was insufferable, yes, and Sam was going to have to have a LONG talk with Dean later, but...for now, he just laughed, as the tension bled out of the car, and Dean FINALLY turned on the stereo, letting the soothing sound of Led Zeppelin carry them into a lighter mood.

Sam took a deep breath, and let it out slow. Maybe sometimes, good things do happen.

[zbabyboo]

The Only One - Zayn Malik 🦋

I couldn't understand how these girls could be so good in so many different ways and clothes, things it is crazy guys and I'm not kidding. In one of these pages I saw her the amazing top model Gigi Hadid. She's definitely perfect and right now I caught myself being that insecure girl. I mean I'm not insecure all the damn time or jealous but when you're boyfriend dated one of the most incredible and spectacular top models you can't kinda control it.

— Hey sweetheart what do you think about this one? - my boyfriend take my attention off of the magazine with his angelic and calm voice.

— I'm sorry what? I was distracted baby but I'm pretty sure you were perfect as always - I put the bestest smile I could give in that moment on and looked at that face, this man can kill everyone with this pretty face.

— Yeah you was distracted with some stuff in this magazine. What is that you are reading that take you're attention off of me and made your face so sad lovie? - he asked already trying to take the magazine off me and obviously I couldn't let he see what or who was the motive for me being so distracted and 'sad' in his words. So before he do that I hug him while lefting little kisses on his face.

— That's nothing important babe... Could I please saw what my boyfriend is working on? I'm excited for this Z - Zayn is like a kid when you talk about something they like and then they are very excited and making little jumps I'm not complain 'cause I could stay here and watch this for a long time.

☁️

We were at his kitchen making some arab foods one of my favorites – and Zayn's abilities – while listening his songs to be specific we are listening Let Me and I can't avoid my mind to think about the person behind this song. Don't judge me some days you are just like a little girl, insecure and thinking if you are enough and I'll make you sure when your boyfriend is famous these types of feelings come harder.

— Love you are worrying me and don't try make me think otherwise - he stoped me before I start make excuses - Y/N you aren't like this babe, you know you can talk 'bout anything with me, right? I'm you're boyfriend and before all I'm you're friend and that person who you can trust and will always be by your side. - he hold my hands with his and immediately interrupting my actions- So tell me what's wrong with you? What's going on?

— I'm feeling like a fool because this is so embarrassing and weird - I turned my face looking at the floor, trying to say the right thing and don't look like a dumb - Remember when earlier I was reading that magazine? Right in one of that pages was Gigi there and I know I shouldn't but I was feeling so bad and insufficient I know I don't have reasons Zayn - I interrupted him before he starts the same speech about being enough, loved and the only one - but she is so perfect, kind and the right one even you saying not. She's everything you deserves, lives in the same world that you live in and you know you two are a beautiful couple and to be honest I don't have idea why you are with me and I didn't want to be playing this role... Just forget it - I looked at the ingredients back blaming myself for being so stupid and speak a lot.

— Hey N/N look at me baby girl - he put his hands on my chin making me look at his face, at this moment my eyes was already watering I couldn't control my emotions - You don't need feel like this babe you know I love you like I never loved someone you are more than enough for me I'm lucky for have someone like you in my life and being my girl. Gigi is an amazing person and we really had good times together I appreciate all the memories we done and one of those is my little baby but it doesn't change what I feel about her. She's only a good friend I assume she is an important chapter in my life but it ended you are the beggining of another and I want you to be with me for the rest of my life. I want marry with you and make a family together. You are one of the reason for why I am happy you're who I always dreamed about and wished one day have. Hurt me seeing you like this because you will never know every single things you've done and do everyday for me. I love you like I never loved someone before sweetheart.

After this sweet words I can't handle my tears anymore and simply hugged him as tight as I can at that moment I was so vulnerable I looked like a child when is afraid and only their parents can calm them down. He is my safe harbor I couldn't ask for more. He was hugging me as tight as me and there I knew he is the love of my life even if it sounds so cliché I had almost sure my belly had butterflies flying and making me feel like a teenager girl with her first boyfriend.

— I love you so fuckin much Zayn - I didn't want to say nothing more at that moment just keep that mood and enjoy the time with my boyfriend. He clearly noticed it and don't asked me or said anything more only stayed hugging me for a long time while he was whispering sweet things close to my ear.

— I love you too baby bear - he left a soft kiss on my forehead squeezing me one more time before let me go and look at me with that smile which can make me fall in love every time I look - Let's make our food now babe? We don't wanna keep hungry, uh? - I smile sweetly at him lifting a little kiss on his thin lips.

— Let's start chef Malik.

~🦋