#barely missing each other frequently

[inseobts]

Busted! (Secret Relationship)

what if the two of you are in a secret relantionship and suddenly everyone start to realize something is going on?

characters: zoro, sanji, law, koby, ace

(luffy, sabo, kid, shanks, bartolomeo)

words count: around 0.8k - 1.3k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Zoro:

The Thousand Sunny is quiet most days, but today feels especially peaceful. The crew’s scattered across the deck sunbathing, napping, playing cards, and you? You’re on a mission.

Zoro’s disappeared again.

“Where did he go this time?” you mutter, padding softly down the hallway. You’ve checked the deck, the crow’s nest, even behind the kitchen. Nothing. Then you think... of course! The training room.

Sure enough, you step inside and spot him, dead asleep on the floor, his swords lying beside him like loyal dogs. He looks peaceful, his breathing deep and even. You smile. He really can sleep anywhere.

You don’t mean to sit down next to him, but somehow, you do.

Just for a minute.

Just long enough to rest your head against his shoulder.

Next thing you know, it’s dark. The room’s dipped in shadow, the ship creaking gently. You jolt upright, a little dazed.

“Zoro—sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

But he just grunts, shifting a little. His shoulder doesn’t move from under your cheek.

It becomes a pattern after that.

You find him again a few days later, this time slumped in a corner of the dining room. You lie down nearby. Sleep drags you under before you can think twice. When you wake, your head is in his lap.

“You’re fine” he murmurs, when you apologize again. Like it’s no big deal. Like he’s used to you being there.

And you start to think… maybe he is.

The naps become frequent. Easy. Comfortable. You stop trying to come up with excuses. You sit beside him on the deck while the others chatter. You lean against him while he sharpens his swords. He never pulls away.

One night, you find him leaning against the wall of the storage room, eyes half-lidded, arms crossed. The moment you walk in, he straightens, just barely, but enough for you to know he was waiting.

He pulls you in without a word. A kiss. Slow, familiar. His hands are warm on your back.

“I missed you” you whisper against his collarbone.

Zoro exhales through his nose “You saw me four hours ago.”

“Still.”

He doesn’t argue. Just leans his forehead against yours.

It’s sweet. Undisturbed. Until you hear footsteps and both of you freeze.

“Shhhit” you whisper, slipping away as quiet as you can.

Neither of you sees Chopper peeking from behind a barrel.

The next day, the crew is watching. Not subtly.

You notice Nami watching you with a knowing smirk. Robin sips her tea, but there’s amusement in her gaze. Sanji is glaring daggers at Zoro (okay, that’s normal), but Usopp is squinting at you both like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

You clear your throat “What?”

Usopp narrows his eyes further “You and Zoro have been acting weird.”

Your heart nearly stops.

You glance at Zoro, who doesn’t even flinch as he takes another bite of his rice “What the hell are you talking about?”

“That you two are obviously acting weird lately...” Nami finally says.

Zoro doesn’t even blink “You’re imagining things.”

“You’re eating your vegetables...” she points out.

Zoro shrugs “Coincidence.”

“You showed up early to dinner” Usopp adds, suspicious.

“Must’ve been a fluke.”

Brook, not missing a beat, says, “I saw you napping with her head on your lap again. Yohohoho~”

You wish you could melt into your chair. But Zoro? Calm as ever.

“She was tired,” he says flatly “What’s the problem?”

Luffy gasps dramatically “You’re dating!!”

Zoro sighs “We were resting.”

You stare at your plate, but a warm touch to your hand under the table grounds you.

Zoro, looking at you like the whole world could wait.

Days pass. You try to be extra careful. Less glances. Less sneaky meetings. Less…everything.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because one night, the crew catches you.

It happens so fast. One moment, you’re on watch duty, and the next, Zoro is there, dragging you into a kiss. It’s heated, his hands gripping your waist, your fingers tangled in his hair, completely lost in each other.

Then “AH-HA!!”

You jolt apart.

Usopp is pointing at you both, eyes wide with betrayal “I knew it!!”

The entire crew is gathered behind him, staring.

Luffy tilts his head “Wait, were we not supposed to know?”

Sanji is fuming “Why him?! You could do so much better, Y/N-chan!”

Robin chuckles “It was quite obvious, honestly.”

Chopper bounces excitedly “I saw them sneaking around weeks ago!”

You cover your face in embarrassment “Oh my god, it was you!”

Zoro groans, rubbing the back of his neck “Tch. Should’ve known you idiots would figure it out. You never mind your own business.”

Luffy grins “Well, at least you don’t have to sneak around anymore!”

Zoro pauses, then shrugs “Guess that’s true.” He turns to you, smirking “Means I can kiss you whenever I want now.”

Your face burns “Zoro!!”

The crew erupts in laughter (except for Sanji, he cries louder).

Secret’s out.

Now you nap by his side without hiding. You lean against him on long afternoons. You sit close at meals. Luffy teases you both constantly. Sanji mutters curses under his breath. But it’s fine.

It’s more than fine. It’s peaceful.

That night, after dinner, you find yourself heading below deck. The ship rocks gently with the sea, moonlight shining through the portholes.

You already know where you’ll find him.

He’s sitting in the training room, back against the wall, swords neatly stacked beside him. When you walk in, he glances up, but he doesn’t say anything.

You sit beside him, stretching your legs out in front of you.

“I thought I might find you here” you say.

Zoro grunts, not disagreeing.

Silence settles in. Comfortable. You shift slightly, laying your head in his lap. He doesn’t move, just lets his fingers find their way into your hair, slow and soothing.

It’s a simple thing. The kind of closeness that doesn’t ask for anything in return.

His hand runs gently over your scalp. You feel your eyes drifting shut again.

“I like this” Zoro says, voice low, almost a rumble.

You blink sleepily, your cheek still pressed to his thigh “Hm?”

“You. Sleeping like this.” He pauses “On my lap.”

Your heart flutters at the quiet honesty. You glance up at him, but he’s not looking down, he’s staring straight ahead, the barest hint of pink on his cheeks.

“I like it too” you murmur.

Zoro’s thumb brushes just behind your ear, then down the back of your neck, repeating the motion. A steady rhythm. Grounding. Careful.

His fingers slip into your hair again, and he continues tracing lazy circles on your scalp. His other hand rests lightly on your arm, as if to say, I’ve got you.

You drift off to the sound of his breathing, calm and slow.

The next morning, sunlight filters through the windows.

You wake slowly, still curled up in Zoro’s lap. His fingers are tangled gently in your hair, and his thumb brushes your temple in slow, steady passes.

You tilt your head, eyes meeting his.

“How long have you been awake?” you whisper.

Zoro smirks, eyes warm “Long enough.”

You stretch, reluctant to move.

“I’m comfortable” you mumble.

He doesn’t stop touching your hair “Good.”

“Zoro?”

“Hm?”

“I think I’m getting used to this.”

He finally looks down at you, something quiet in his expression, softness, maybe. Peace.

“Yeah,” he says “Me too.”

And you smile, because in this floating world full of chaos, monsters, and adventure… it’s the quietest moments like this that feel the most real.

── .✦ Sanji:

Sanji is always everywhere. In the kitchen. On the deck. Serving drinks. Flirting with Nami and Robin. Spinning around like the lovestruck idiot he is.

Which is exactly why no one suspects a damn thing.

No one notices how his hand brushes against yours just a little longer when he passes you a plate. No one questions why he always makes extra of your favorite dish. And no one, not even Usopp, the self-proclaimed detective, realizes that when Sanji disappears from the kitchen at night, it’s to be with you.

Like right now.

It’s past midnight, and the kitchen is dimly lit. The scent of fresh tea and something sweet lingers in the air as you lean against the counter, watching Sanji work. His sleeves are rolled up, his vest discarded, and the soft glow of the lantern makes his golden hair look even more unruly.

“You’re spoiling me” you murmur as he places a small plate in front of you a delicate pastry, still warm.

Sanji grins, wiping his hands on a towel “Of course, mon amour. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t?”

You take a bite, humming in satisfaction “Mmm. Amazing.”

His eyes soften as he leans in, resting his palms on the counter on either side of you “I can think of something even sweeter.”

Before you can respond, he captures your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. You melt into him, gripping the fabric of his shirt as his fingers gently tilt your chin up. His lips taste like mint and a hint of the dessert he just made, and you lose yourself in the warmth of him.

Then a loud BANG from outside the door.

Both of you freeze.

Sanji pulls back, glancing at the entrance “Shit—”

You practically shove him away, wiping your lips as the door swings open.

“Oi, I swear, I'm not here to see your ugly face, I need—”

Zoro stops mid-sentence, looking between the two of you. His eyes narrow.

Your heart stops.

Sanji, ever the smooth talker, immediately turns to glare at him “Moss-head, do you have no manners? Barging into my kitchen?”

Zoro scowls “Tch. Like I wanna be here. Luffy’s whining about meat, and I—” His gaze shifts back to you. Suspicious.

You force a casual smile “Uh… late-night snack?”

Zoro doesn’t look convinced. His eyes flick between the two of you once more before he grunts “Whatever. Just bring food before Luffy eats Chopper.”

He turns and leaves.

You don’t breathe until the door clicks shut. Then you glare at Sanji “We almost got caught.”

Sanji just smirks, brushing his fingers over your wrist “But we didn’t.”

You always try to act normal. You really do. But Sanji makes it so damn difficult.

He’s always sneaking glances at you across the table. Always brushing against you when he walks by. Always bringing you your favorite snacks, acting like it’s nothing.

And apparently, the crew is starting to catch on.

“You guys ever notice that Sanji doesn’t flirt with Y/N as much as he does with Nami and Robin?” Usopp suddenly asks one day.

Your spoon nearly slips from your hand.

Franky strokes his chin “Huh. Now that you mention it…”

Brook chuckles “Ohhh, that is unusual.”

Luffy, mouth full, tilts his head “But Sanji flirts with everyone.”

Zoro scoffs “Yeah. Except Y/N.”

Your stomach drops.

Sanji, who had been stirring a pot at the stove, doesn’t even flinch “I’m just being a gentleman.”

Nami raises an eyebrow “Are you, though?”

Sanji turns, flashing his usual charming smile “Of course, my dear! Why would I treat Y/N-chan any different?”

You force a nervous laugh “Right! That would be weird, huh?”

They don’t look convinced.

Robin simply sips her tea, giving you both a knowing look.

In the end, it’s Luffy who ruins everything.

One day you and Sanji are in the storage room, tucked away between crates of supplies, wrapped up in each other. His hands are in your hair, his lips teasing against yours, and the rest of the world doesn’t exist... at least until the door slams open.

“SANJI, ARE YOU IN HE—oh.”

Luffy stops. Blinks. Tilts his head.

You and Sanji are frozen in place, practically tangled together.

Luffy’s face slowly lights up “OOOOHHHH!!!”

You scramble back “L-Luffy, it’s not what it looks like—”

“YOU GUYS WERE KISSING!!”

Sanji sighs, rubbing his temples “Goddammit.”

Before you can even try to shut him up, Luffy sprints out of the room.

You stare at the door in horror “Oh no.”

“OH YES” Sanji groans, already dreading what’s about to happen.

“GUYS!!” Luffy yells at the top of his lungs “SANJI AND Y/N ARE KISSING!!”

A beat of silence. Then an explosion of multiple “WHAT?!”

Usopp “I knew something was up!!”

Franky “That’s SUPER unexpected!”

Brook “OHOHO, young love~!”

Chopper “How long has this been going on?!”

Nami “You guys really thought you were being secretive?”

Robin chuckles knowingly “Adorable.”

Zoro grinning smugly “Called it.”

Sanji groans, burying his face in his hands “Kill me now.”

You sigh, crossing your arms “Well. Secret’s out.”

Sanji straightens, huffing dramatically before flashing you a smirk “At least now I don’t have to hold back anymore, mon amour~”

He dips you backward, kissing you full on the mouth right in front of the crew.

Cue, another round of screaming.

── .✦ Law:

Dinner on the Polar Tang is always loud. Jokes, clinks of silverware, and Bepo’s laugh echo off the metal walls.

You sit between Shachi and Penguin, pretending to listen to their story about a giant sea bass they swear was “this big”, but your eyes keep drifting across the table to Law.

Your secret boyfriend. Your captain. The man who never smiles in public, but melts when you’re alone.

No one knows. Not even Bepo. You’ve kept it quiet for months. Private looks, quick touches in dark halls, and soft kisses in his room late at night.

Today, before dinner, you stopped by his quarters. Things got… heated.

“Hold still” you say, laughing as you straddle his lap, pressing kiss after kiss on his jaw, his cheek, his neck.

“You’re gonna leave marks” Law murmurs, but his hands stay firm on your hips.

“Good,” you whisper against his throat, lips painted with your favourite lipstick “Let everyone wonder who’s bold enough to kiss the Surgeon of Death.”

He smirks, but you clean him up after. Or so you think.

Now, mid-dinner, you notice it.

Right on the collar of his white shirt, just above the neck, there's a soft red smudge. Lipstick. Your lipstick.

Your eyes widen.

Shachi nudges you “Hey, is that… is there something on Captain’s shirt?”

Penguin leans forward “Yo, Captain. You spill something?”

Law blinks. Looks down “What?”

Bepo tilts his head “No, that looks like lipstick.”

Silence falls over the table. Everyone stares.

You try to act innocent, chewing your food and glancing around like you’re just as confused.

“Lipstick?” you say, blinking “Who around here even wears lipstick?”

They all look at Ikkaku.

She doesn’t even look up from her bowl “Not me,” she mutters “That's not even my color.”

Penguin raises an eyebrow “So… that means…” He turns his head slowly toward you “You’re the only one who does.”

Shachi points between you and Law “Wait… Are you two…?”

Law doesn’t say a word. He just sips his tea like nothing’s happened.

You smile, wide and unapologetic “Guess I missed a spot.”

Silence.

Then chaos.

“WHAT?!” Shachi practically jumps over the table “YOU AND THE CAPTAIN?!”

“How long?!” Penguin shouts, eyes wide “Since when?! HOW DID WE NOT NOTICE?!”

Bepo stands up so fast he knocks over his stool “You’re dating the captain?!”

You raise an eyebrow “You guys okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“Don’t play innocent!” Penguin waves his spoon “You’ve been sneaking around with him! That’s our captain!”

Shachi gasps dramatically “All those times you disappeared after dinner… And that one time you came back with messy hair! I thought it was just wind!”

“Eheh, I am the wind” you say with a smirk.

Law sighs “You’re all loud.”

Bepo stares “So it’s true? You and Y/N?”

Law glances at you, then shrugs “Yeah.”

Another wave of panic.

“THE WAY HE SAID THAT!” Penguin screams.

“SO CALM—SO COOL—WHAT THE HELL!” Shachi is holding his head like it might explode.

Ikkaku finally looks up, deadpan “You’re all idiots.”

You lean into Law’s side, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Told you they’d freak.”

“Mm,” Law mutters “Still worth it.”

Bepo sniffles “I feel so betrayed… I thought we were a family.”

“We are,” you say “Just… a family with a very attractive captain who’s taken.”

“STOP,” Shachi yells “I CAN’T UNSEE IT.”

Law smirks just a little. And you can’t help it, you kiss his cheek in front of everyone, just to drive them a little more insane.

It’s been two days since The Lipstick Incident.

Two days of nonstop teasing.

“Morning, Y/N.”

“Or should we say Mrs. Surgeon of Death?”

You roll your eyes as Shachi and Penguin trail behind you like annoying seagulls.

“Captain! Can Y/N still go on missions or is she on girlfriend duty today?”

“Should we start knocking before entering the medbay now?”

Law mostly ignores them. Mostly. Except that time he dead-eyed Penguin and said, “Keep talking and I’ll switch your arms.”

The jokes died down for a few hours after that. But Bepo has become the most dramatic.

“I still can’t believe I found out at dinner like that,” he says, curled in a blanket like he’s mourning “I needed time to process.”

You plop down next to him on the couch “We didn’t mean to keep it from you. It was just… easier that way.”

He looks at you “Are you happy with him?”

You pause, then smile “Yeah. He makes me feel safe. And seen. Even if he doesn’t say much.”

Behind you, Law’s voice chimes in “I say plenty.”

You turn, surprised “You were eavesdropping?”

“It’s my ship.”

He walks over, drops a kiss on your forehead right in front of everyone. You expect chaos again, but the room is quiet.

Then Bepo grins “Okay. I approve.”

Shachi sighs “Fine. But if we ever hear weird noises from the engine room again—”

“—I will personally sedate you” Law cuts in.

The crew bursts into laughter.

Penguin raises his cup “To our captain and his secret weapon—Y/N!”

Everyone cheers. Even Ikkaku raises an eyebrow and gives you a subtle nod.

You look up at Law. He doesn’t smile much. But you see softness around the eyes, just for you.

Secret’s out. And honestly? It feels kind of nice.

── .✦ Koby:

The marine base is quiet at night, almost peaceful. You walk along the edge of the courtyard, your boots barely making a sound on the stone floor. The moon is high, casting soft light over the base. You pause near the training field and look around. No one’s there.

Good.

“Koby?” you whisper, stepping behind a storage shed.

A soft rustle comes from the shadows. Then he steps out. His hair is a little messy, his uniform jacket open.

“You’re late” he says, but he smiles.

You roll your eyes “Only by five minutes.”

Koby glances around. He takes your hand and pulls you closer into the shadow of the wall. His hand is warm. You lean into him, your heartbeat fast.

“If anyone sees us…” he says, his voice low.

“No one will,” you say quickly “They never do.”

He chuckles “We’re getting good at this.”

“You mean I’m getting good at it,” you tease “You still get nervous when someone says my name.”

“That’s because Garp keeps watching me like he knows something” Koby says, eyes wide.

You laugh “Maybe he does.”

Koby groans “Don’t say that.”

You lean up and kiss his cheek “Relax. We’re always careful.”

He smiles at you, that soft look he only gives when it’s just the two of you “I missed you.”

“I saw you this morning.”

“That doesn’t count. You were in uniform. You called me Sir.”

You smirk “Would you prefer Captain Sweetheart?”

Koby covers his face, laughing quietly “Please don’t.”

The sound of footsteps suddenly cuts the moment short.

You both freeze.

“Did you hear that?” you whisper.

Koby nods, already pulling away. You both hide behind the shed just as two lower-ranked marines walk by, talking about some drill tomorrow. They don’t see you.

Your heart pounds. When the footsteps fade, you let out a breath.

Koby looks at you, serious now “We can’t keep doing this forever.”

You know what he means. But you don’t want to think about it. Not tonight.

“Let’s just have this,” you say “Right now.”

He nods slowly, fingers brushing against yours again “Right now.”

Neither of you say the words out loud, but they’re there, floating in the silence.

This is dangerous but it’s totally worth it.

The sky looks angry today.

Wind whips through the courtyard, and the clouds hang low like they’re ready to fight someone. Fitting, considering your brain’s in a brawl with itself after what Helmeppo said the day before.

"Koby, huh?"

You can’t stop hearing it. His smirk. That I-know-something-you-don’t-want-me-to-know tone.

You march past the barracks, straight toward the supply shed, your usual spot. You pace in tight circles. The door creaks. Koby walks in, drenched from the rain already starting.

“I heard Helmeppo” he says.

You nod “I didn’t tell him anything.”

“I know. But he knows. He’s probably telling his pillow right now.”

You snort, even though your chest feels tight.

“What do we do?” you ask.

Koby looks out the cracked window “I don't think anyone would even care about what Helmeppo says, but I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

You wait.

“…What if we stop hiding?”

You blink “Just like that?”

He shrugs “We tell the truth. If we get in trouble, we get in trouble. At least it’s not lying anymore.”

You walk up to him, water dripping from the edge of the window onto your boots “You’re serious?”

He nods “You’re worth the risk.”

Before you can answer—BOOM! The door BURSTS open like it owes someone money.

There stands Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp, holding a giant sack of snacks.

“I KNEW IT!” he bellows, pointing a meat bun at both of you like it’s a pistol “I KNEW YOU TWO WERE SWAPPING LOVE NOTES INSTEAD OF LOGBOOKS!”

Your soul nearly leaves your body. Koby jumps like he just got hit by lightning.

Garp stomps inside, water puddling under his boots “You think I’m old and blind?! I see everything! The glances! The disappearing acts! The suspiciously timed bathroom breaks!”

You and Koby look at each other, stunned.

“I—uh—we weren’t—” you stammer.

Garp holds up a finger “Don’t lie! I’ve seen more romance in your sneaky hallway nods than in a whole damn soap opera!”

Koby finally finds his voice “Vice Admiral Garp, we—”

Garp grabs two rice balls from his bag and tosses them at your heads.

“About time! I was betting with Sengoku you two would crack by this month!” He slaps Koby on the back so hard he almost falls over “Make it work, kiddo. Or I’ll make you regret everything.”

He stomps back into the storm, yelling at the sky.

“I WANT A WEDDING INVITE WHEN THIS BLOOMS INTO MARINE-SANCTIONED LOVE!”

Then he’s gone.

The silence is unreal.

“…Did he just bless our relationship and threaten us at the same time?” you ask.

Koby looks dazed “I think he also gave us lunch.”

You both stare at the rice balls on the ground.

You reach for one “So… no more hiding?”

Koby grins “No more hiding.”

You nod “Good. But that wasn’t romantic. That was a jump scare.”

By the next morning, everyone knows.

You’re not sure how.

Maybe it was Garp yelling across the courtyard. Maybe it was the rice ball slap. Maybe it was the way Koby smiled at you in front of a full squad meeting like it was no big deal. But now, it’s official.

You’re walking through the halls and two marines actually wink at you.

One gives you a thumbs-up. Another whispers, “Cute couple” like this is high school.

And then there’s Helmeppo, waiting by the stairs like he’s been practicing his lines all night.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls “Look who finally stopped sneaking off like a pair of guilty raccoons.”

You roll your eyes “Don’t you have training or something?”

“Oh, I do. But this is more fun,” he says, grinning “You two really had me fooled. All those ‘Yes, sir’s and ‘Permission to speak freely’s. Cute. Very professional. Very fake.”

“I will tape your mouth shut” you say calmly.

“Spicy,” Helmeppo whistles “No wonder Koby’s in love.”

You expect Koby to stammer. To panic. To turn bright red and pretend none of this is happening.

Instead, he wraps his arm around your waist and says “Yeah. I am.”

What.

You turn to him “Who are you and what did you do with the shy marine I was dating in secret?”

He grins, a little pink in the cheeks, but steady “I’m done hiding. I like holding your hand. I like saying it.”

Helmeppo looks personally attacked “You’re gonna make me throw up.”

Koby shrugs “Go drink some water.”

You’re still trying to recover from the whiplash when Koby turns to you again, softer this time. No audience, no drama, just him.

“I missed being close to you,” he says “Even just walking next to you without pretending it means nothing. I hated pretending.”

Your heart tugs.

“I know,” you say “I did too.”

He leans in, forehead resting lightly against yours “Now I can do this.”

He kisses you. Just a short, sweet kiss. Right there in the hallway.

Someone behind you gasps. Someone else claps. It’s probably Garp. Or Helmeppo. Or both.

You laugh into Koby’s shoulder “We’re never gonna hear the end of this.”

“Good,” he says “Let them talk.”

── .✦ Ace:

It starts small.

Ace, lover of chaos and borderline inedible food, begins pushing onions off his plate.

At first, nobody says anything. Maybe he just wasn't in the mood. Maybe he’s just not feeling it today.

Then it happens again.

And again.

.........And again.

By the fourth time, Thatch is watching him like he’s trying to solve a murder.

“You good, man?”

Ace blinks, mid-push “Huh?”

“You keep banishing onions like they stole your ship or something.”

Ace shrugs “They just taste weird lately.”

Thatch narrows his eyes “You used to eat them raw.”

“Tastes change.”

“You once drank onion juice.”

“I was bored.”

“You said it ‘cleared the sinuses.’”

Ace looks up at him with a done expression “…And it did.”

Thatch is unconvinced. He stares at the sad pile of abandoned onions like they hold answers.

A few days later, Marco walks across the deck and almost trips over you.

You’re napping.

Not unusual. But you’re napping exactly like Ace. Flat on your back. Arm flopped over your face. One boot still on, one off. Dead to the world.

Marco leans down “You good?”

You snore lightly and mumble something about “I hate onions... mh”.

Marco’s eye twitches.

He walks off slowly and finds Thatch.

“We have a situation.”

Izou, Marco, Thatch, and Jozu sit in a huddle like they’re planning a heist.

Thatch slaps down a napkin with dramatic flair.

“Exhibit A: Ace has stopped eating onions.”

“Exhibit B,” Marco adds, “she naps like a dead log in the middle of the deck. Just like him.”

“Exhibit C,” Izou says, adjusting his coat, “he brushed his teeth twice in one day.”

Silence.

Jozu blinks “…What does that mean?”

Izou sighs “He’s trying not to taste bad, obviously.”

Marco nods slowly “Only one reason for all this.”

Everyone says it at once “He’s kissing someone.”

They all lean back like they’ve cracked the code.

Thatch grins wide “And we all know someone who always hated onions.”

Back on deck, you yawn and stretch, bumping into Ace as he leans on the rail.

“Morning” he says, smiling softly.

“You smell like mint” you mutter, surprised.

He leans in slightly “That a bad thing?”

You shake your head, trying not to grin “Nah. Kinda hot, actually.”

What you don’t notice is the small army of Whitebeard pirates across the deck, hiding behind barrels, crates, and a suspiciously placed sail, watching you both with the intensity of trained spies.

Thatch whispers, “Look at him. He’s glowing.”

Marco squints “Is that a love glow?”

Jozu nods “He’s never glowed before.”

Izou fans himself “My heart can’t take this.”

Thatch whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary “Observe: the rare, emotionally available Ace, brushing his teeth and avoiding onions for the sake of romance.”

Marco chuckles “Should we say something?”

Thatch shakes his head, evil smile creeping in “Not yet. Let’s have a little fun first.”

The crew knows. You just don’t know that they know. Which is why things get weird really fast.

First, Thatch starts offering you food. All the time. Which wouldn’t be strange except “Here, Y/N, extra meat, no onions. Just how you like it” he says sweetly, placing it in front of you with a wink.

You blink “Thanks…?”

He beams “Y’know. For important stuff. Like kissing for example.”

You choke “What?”

“Kissing your enemies goodbye in battle, of course. Wouldn't be cool if you smell like onions.” he says innocently “What else would I mean?”

You narrow your eyes. He walks off humming the wedding march.

Weird.

Later that day, Marco corners Ace.

“You ever think about switching toothpaste brands?”

Ace looks up from his nap spot, squinting “What?”

“I heard mint’s nice” Marco says, deadly casual.

Ace raises a brow “I already switched. Why?”

“No reason,” Marco shrugs “Just figured you’d want to impress… someone.”

“…Like who?”

Marco just walks off.

Ace stares after him, confused.

Then there’s Izou.

He appears next to you while you’re doing your hair, watching like a hawk.

“Hmm” he says thoughtfully.

“What?”

“You’ve got a new little strand tucked behind your ear. That’s new.”

You frown “So? My hair just got a bit too long.”

“Just reminds me of how Ace tucks his hair sometimes. Cute. Subtle. Copying your crush is a classic move.”

You freeze “Wh-What crush?”

He smiles slowly “Oh, I didn’t say you had one.”

You almost trip over the comb.

And don’t even get started on Jozu. He starts playing “matchmaker” out of nowhere.

“Hey Y/N, what do you think of guys with freckles?”

You pause “I mean, freckles are nice... why?”

“No reason.” He grins “You like fire powers too?”

“…You’re literally describing Ace.”

“Am I?” he says, like he’s shocked at himself.

You walk away suspicious. The crew snickers behind your back.

By the end of the week, you’re starting to get twitchy. Ace too.

“Are they acting weird?” you whisper one night as you sit beside him on deck.

“Definitely,” he says, arms behind his head “Thatch winked at me when I refused onions at dinner.”

“Marco suggested I take a nap ‘in a more open, sunny place.’” You glance at him “Sound familiar?”

Ace groans “They’re onto something.”

You whisper, “Do you think they know?”

He shrugs “They’re dumb. I think we’re safe.”

The crew, literally hiding, listening in with cups pressed to the wood.

Thatch whispers, “They think we’re dumb.”

Marco snorts “They’re in love and hiding it like toddlers under a table.”

Izou fans himself “Give it another day. Then we strike.”

It starts over breakfast.

Again, totally normal day. Birds chirping. Sun’s out. Pirates being loud. You stroll in beside Ace, acting casual. Like you didn’t kiss him good morning five minutes ago behind the barrels.

You sit down.

He sits next to you.

Everything is fine. Until Thatch slams his fork on the table and stands up dramatically.

“Okay, this has gone on long enough.”

You and Ace both freeze.

Marco leans in lazily, sipping his coffee “So. You two are dating, right?”

Your eyes go wide.

Ace doesn’t even blink.

And at the exact same time:

You: “No! Who would even date him?”

Ace: “Yeah, we’re obviously dating.”

Silence.

A beat.

Then Jozu chokes on his juice. Thatch drops his spoon. Izou wheezes like he’s been punched.

Marco just blinks “Well. That answers that.”

You turn to Ace in slow motion “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY??”

He frowns slightly “That we’re dating? What—why did you say that so disgusted?”

You hiss “Because you weren’t supposed to just admit it!”

“Why not? We’ve been caught.”

“I was trying to lie!”

Thatch is howling “Oh my god—‘Who would even date him??’ Babe, the man LITERALLY has your name carved into his pillow.”

You whip around “He WHAT?!”

Ace shrugs “Just the initials. It’s cute.”

Izou fans himself “I’m going to die. This is the best breakfast of my life.”

Marco grins “This is better than I expected”

Jozu “It’s like watching a romance novel crash into a comedy sketch.”

You bury your face in your hands “I hate this. I hate ALL of you.”

Ace pats your back gently “I think it’s going great.”

You glare at him “You’re enjoying this.”

“Of course. I don’t have to sneak around anymore. I get to call you mine out loud now.”

That… makes your face heat up. You try not to smile. You fail.

Thatch yells, “THEY’RE BLUSHING. IT’S REAL.”

Ace slings his arm around your shoulders, smug and unbothered “Don’t worry, babe. We’ll survive the embarrassment.”

Izou smirks “Barely.”

Marco raises his cup “To the worst cover-up attempt in Whitebeard history.”

Everyone cheers.

You groan and slump against Ace, who kisses your temple like the traitor he is.

Soft. Smiling. Loud and proud.

And now you’re never living this down.

[dollyichi]

BETTER THAN A BLANKET!

katsuki bakugou x f ! reader ᯓ★ 1.04k words. fluff / established relationship / not proofread / maybe ooc but you know… it’s a sleepy bakugou

katsuki has this habit of moving you on top of him. it’s a very pure, almost natural, but mindless action that just happens when you’re together.

it happens more frequently on a lazy, late afternoon during his off days. when the sun’s about to set and the both of you are enjoying each other’s company. laying down side by side, comfortable in each other’s silence.

the errands for the day were done and instead of going on a date outside, you opted to just get back home quickly—he definitely had no complaints at all, in fact, he was happy to stay at home with you, especially since he was barely even at home because of the several missions and emergencies he was dispatched to. to him, a big flaw of being a hero is being away from their lover for long periods of time—but it’s always more important that the world you helped widen for him is safer for you.

when you got home, you watched a few movies with him. laughing about the cheesy romcoms that’s number one on the streaming site. throwing popcorn when he mocks a cringy line. “well shit, he was really fucking stupid for that. can’t be me.” was your favorite comment from him, making a mental note in your head that he really hates slow-burn romance. definitely hates cheating routes too, thinking the whole film is a waste of time.

sooner or later, the two of you end up getting a little drowsy, wanting to take that power nap that the two of you deserved after the hell you guys went through this week. both of you are just waiting for sleep to hit and drift off in each other’s arms.

this moment you have with him is always special, never failing to tug on your heartstrings, especially since the golden shine of the sun passes through the thin curtains of your lovely home, landing perfectly on his pretty face that’s trying to blink and stay awake all because he always preferred you falling asleep first. half lidded eyes that still shined prettily accompanied by the warm rays.

when katsuki gets extra groggy and sluggish, he pulls you over on top him all too suddenly. tugging at your arm, looking at you like a puppy wanting treats. his mouth’s in a straight line yet his eyes already is saying a lot, it is one of the most expressive parts of him if he chooses not to speak.

and you let him, moving on top of him while he maneuvered you to however he liked, landing on him with a soft thud. you scoot a little bit to be more comfortable. nuzzling your face against his neck when you’re already put in place, “he smells so nice,” you think. he wraps his arms around you in such a tender embrace—you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. also spreading his legs apart so yours could stay on the mattress in case your legs get numb later on, he’s so considerate.

your arms under his while you softly cling to the sleeves of his shirt. you’re both chest to chest, almost feeling each other’s heartbeats. he loved doing this so much because you being his very own personal blanket would always bring him comfort. you’re always just so full of warmth and he always wants to feel it from head to toe—this is just the best position to have it possible.

you’ll talk for a bit, saying how you missed him all week and he grins at you. “yeah? your boyfriend left you all alone huh? what a dumbass.” and then you’ll tell him some stories about what you did at work, chatting about how the coffee machine keeps breaking cause an intern hasn’t learned to use it properly. he’d give you replies in small phrases, happily listening to your voice while fighting the drowsiness that’s kicking in. chuckles whenever your pitch gets higher from your rants. then you’d go back to telling him how you saw him at the news the other day, how you always worried a lot, which always made him a little sad but it couldn’t be helped.

but you’re pouting at him so cutely he ends up smiling. “i’m here now aren’t i?” he asks in a way that reassures you. “mhm, safe and sound.” you say, nudging your cheek against his.

you really wished time could slow down, even for just a bit, just to have katsuki all to yourself for a little while longer.

eventually your chat with him turns to a slower pace, your voice gradually getting softer and softer, and words more disconnected as your mind gets hazy with sleep.

he mumbles a small, “sleepy?” and you snuggle deeper onto him, which immediately translates to his head as a ‘yes.’ he doesn’t ‘bother’ you anymore with any other words or further conversation. instead, he kisses the top of your head while he waits for you to drift off before him. and he repeatedly tells you how much he loved you, at least in his head he did.

you’re closing your eyes while he rubs your back, soothing you into that dreamscape while you hope to see him right there next to you just like you are now.

when you wake up you’re in the same place you were in, except the extra warmth on your back with your puffy comforter that katsuki somehow placed on without waking you.

you figured it’s time to start preparing dinner from how dark the room is. yet, with the way he looked so cute sleeping so soundly under the cool hue of the moonlight you think it’s probably fine to sleep for a few more minutes.

and you kiss him just for a little while before you lay back down. not knowing he was awake a few minutes after you did and hoped you wouldn’t notice the blush that’s creeping up his cheeks. “that was dangerous,” he thought to himself. maybe it was cause he was still high off from his dream but whenever you make his heart skip a beat this much it makes him want to ask you to be his girlfriend again (i think this definitely calls for a ring katsuki!)

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

[missdynamighttt]

↳ ❝ HONEY.. COME BACK TO ME. PLEASE. ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you and your ex-boyfriend katsuki bakugou can't seem to resist each other no matter what. even if you're only supposed to be friendly at the class reunion party.

starring: pro hero! katsuki bakugou x ex-girlfriend! reader ⍣ ೋ

disclaimers!: mentions of handjobs and oral sex in 3rd year at ua, oral sex (f! receiving), tits fixation, penetrative / p in v sex, car sex / semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie 🤭

note: spoilers for chapter 431 (a little different in some parts), usage of "brat", "honey", "sweets", "woman", fem reader, mentions of izuocha, second chance romance trope, porn with plot, microscopic angst, credits to gsony for center pic in my banner, i love them sm^^hope i did our husband justice 💜💜

╰┈➤ ❝ [why is he here?] you murmur quietly, discreetly watching katsuki from a distance, seeing him quiet and grumpy, drinking with a few of his friends alongside izuku.

ochako raises an eyebrow with a grin, clearly amused at your turmoil with the pro hero. she nudges your arm, looking at you from the side. "he's a part of the class too, y'know."

"i know that," you huff, sighing as you land your drink down the table, glancing back at him before looking back at ochako with a frown. "just.. its hard."

of course it was hard to see great explosion murder god dynamight. your ex-boyfriend, no matter how hot he looks in his usual black attire, his big biceps straining against the material, his post-war scars framing his muscular, gorgeous physique.

even before the war, you and katsuki were a great couple, despite your constant bickering and petty arguments. it just led up to increasing sexual tension and great makeout sessions. maybe got handsy a few times and did.. oral stuff in your 3rd year together but no more than that.

it all just came crumbling down after graduation, when you two gradually spent less time together as work kept both of you away from each other. you both ended it on good terms only after a year of being pro-heroes, but that doesn't stop you from missing him. from wanting him, needing him.

katsuki felt the exact same way. even if he was nonchalant about it now, he was barely holding himself back from dragging you away from this party and kissing your face off until he made up with the time both of you spent away from each other. which, to him, seemed like forever.

throughout the years, the two of you did see each other frequently during patrols and in joint-cases, made appropriate civilized small talk, but never ever talked about getting back together. it wasn't that both of you didn't want to: it just wasn't the perfect time. unlike this setting, where the two of you could talk properly.

ochako sighs softly, a small sympathetic smile on her face. "he's just a man, sweetie. after this, you'll barely see him again."

you bite you bottom lip and nod, tugging on the skin. you knew she made a good point, its just.. well, it doesn't change the fact that katsuki's in near proximity.

you sigh, smiling softly at her. "yeah, i know," you grin, nudging her arm, gesturing your head to izuku. "enough about me, though. what about you and midoriya, huh?"

ochako widens her eyes a little at the mention of her old highschool crush, shakes her head profusely, clearly flustered as vibrant pink tinting her cheeks. "i-i haven't even talked to deku in awhile! its been so long ago.."

you scoff and roll your eyes, grab her shoulder, and shake them a little. "well, change that. c'mon, i saw him looking at you anyway. maybe the same way he did todoroki but at least he looked at you. that counts for something."

you could still see the reluctance in her eyes to go so you shake her arm again in encouragement. "gooo, i'll be here, drinking my problems away, rooting for you."

ochako shakes her head at you with a soft grin, clearly wanting to but shyness was holding her back.

"i suppose a hello wouldn't hurt," her grin widens, pressing her cheek against yours, mumbling a soft thank you. "wish me luck."

you wave at ochako, mouthing to her good luck, as she approaches izuku, watching their cute interaction from afar. they wave at each other like the young, shy high-schoolers they once were, chatting and laughing softly over something trivial. izuku then offers her to sit beside him.

izuku eyes katsuki with a grin, gesturing his head to leave. katsuki rolls his eyes, but stands up, giving his seat to ochako. like the little bitch fate is, katsuki approaches ochako's empty seat beside you, looking at you with a small grin.

"oh, you sly fucker," your eye twitches. you didn't know who to be mad at, izuku or his insufferable best friend, but you could see ochako looking at you in worry, mouthing a quick sorry before getting enveloped by izuku's conversation again.

you sigh, shaking your head. on the bright side, whats the worst that can happen?

you give katsuki a soft smile, waving weakly at him. your hand feels stiff from how nervous you are, shaking it under the table to shake off the nerves. "hi."

katsuki raises an amused eyebrow at you, wearing his signature snarky smirk. he nods, settling down in ochako's empty seat. "hey, brat."

as you sat next to him, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions. a pang of nostalgia, a flutter in your chest at the sight of him, and a hint of sadness at the memory of what could have been.

you took in his spicy cinnamon scent with smoky notes that you missed so much, the way his blonde hair was messily fixed, and his sardonic grin. it was hard to ignore the spark of longing, repeatedly chanting in your head that he was your ex for reason.

katsuki glanced over at you, eyes meeting for a brief moment. his crimson eyes catch the light of the room, making them glow like bloodstone. it made your stomach do backflips, forcing yourself to breathe.

”i’m surprised you actually came,” he says, his voice low and casual.

when he spoke again, the sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. it was the same voice that had whispered sweet nothings in your ear, the same voice that had laughed at your stupid, corny jokes, the same voice you had fallen asleep listening to on countless nights in the past.

you felt your palms begin to sweat but couldn't help but be a little pissed. it reminded you of what you said to ochako earlier, but still. "why wouldn't i? i'm in the class as much as you, aren't i?"

"don’t be a smartass,” he takes a sip of his drink, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. your eyes followed the movement, a wave of memories hitting like a tidal wave.

other classmates fanned out of the room as the night goes on, but katsuki took advantage of this, seperating you from them, keeping you all to himself.

he turned to face you fully, your knees touching with his for a moment as he shifted in his seat. the sudden contact made you inhale sharply, trying your best to keep your expression neutral.

"you look good," he said quietly, eyeing you up and down slowly, his gaze lingering on parts of your body that he clearly remembered well.

the warmth in your cheeks grew a little, clearing your throat, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "thanks. wish i could say the same for you."

he raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. "is that how it’s going to be?”

"well, you look like you need a shave," you lied. he didn't.

"oh? i thought you liked it when i was a little scruffy, sweets," you absolutely fucking did. there was nothing you wanted more than to lean in and feel the stubble on his jaw, to remember the roughness of his cheeks while you made out him. while he spoils your neck with hickies. while his head is in between your thighs, kissing your clit-

"that was years ago," you avert your gaze from him, unable to look at him any longer without crumbling. why was he so fucking attractive? it's been seven goddamn years. don't ex-boyfriends get ugly after a break-up?

"why do i get the feelin' you've missed it, hm?"

"i don't. you're delusional."

"you're a real terrible liar, brat."

"lying about you being delusional?"

"lying about you not missin' this. missin' me," he reached out to you, his fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. his touch was gentle as his knuckles grazed your cheek briefly. fuck.

"i don't.. i don't miss this. i don't miss you," you chew on the inside of your cheeks, trying to hold on to any semblance of composure you had. all the dignity you had was telling you to pull away but did you listen? fuck no.

"you're not very good at hidin' how much you want someone, sweets."

"quit it, katsuki. i said i don't."

"oh, that's real fuckin' funny. but i'll be clear," he chuckles deeply, a slow victorious smile on his face. you're starting to crack.

his hand slowly sliding towards your thigh, hidden from anyone else's view under the table. fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck. his closeness was already making it harder to think, the sensation of his touch only weakening your resistance.

"i'm done pretendin' i don't want you. so, honey, cut it out, because we both know you want me too."

your gaze widened, quickly biting down on your bottom lip, trying to stop yourself from saying anything stupid.

luckily, before you could even respond, the very man who put you in this situation, izuku approached with kirishima in tow.

"hey kacchan, would it be okay if we leave now? i have an early class tomorrow," izuku asks, not a care in the world that he interrupted something between you two.

katsuki was staring daggers at him though, because he had to pull his hand away from your plush thigh.

"yeah, i gotta hit the sack too, man," kirishima rubs the back of his neck, who knows hes interrupting something between the two of you but doesn't say anything about it.

but.. that doesn't mean he doesn't want to fuck around a little. kirishima looks at you with a friendly grin. "hey, wanna come with?"

you panic a little. another chance for katsuki to wreck your defenses? could you handle that?

"nah, i'd rather not disturb, i'll just wait for a cab-"

"the fuck you're not. you're not takin' a cab, brat. i'm drivin' you home," katsuki spat, his tone leaving no room for argument.

the ride home was pleasantly quiet in a way that wasn't uncomfortable. the atmosphere was a bit tense, but it was manageable.

you found yourself in the passenger seat of his black porsche 911 gt3 rs, not because you wanted to, but because according to katsuki:

"you better sit your ass down here or i swear to god, woman, i'll pin you down this chair myself."

so, it left izuku and kirishima in the backseat that seemed to drown them (comfortably). you didn't utter a single word during the drive, merely listening to their conversation, occasionally cracking a small smile and chuckling at their banter.

the silence thickened again when katsuki dropped kirishima and izuku off, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet car.

okay, you needed a game plan. keep quiet, do not give in, and do not fuck him-

"i missed you, y'know," he murmurs, his eyes still focused on the road.

his words caught you off guard, startled you. you missed him too. so fucking much. but the words got stuck in your throat, pride and fear holding you back. you try to keep your emotions in check, keeping quiet and not giving in according to your game plan-

"too fuckin' much. pisses me off. started to bother kirishima too," he lets out a frustrated sigh, his grip on the steering wheel tightening a little, his knuckles turning white. "plagues the shit out of me. that i think about you almost everyday at the most random fuckin' times, its terrifying."

he glances at you briefly, sighing before focusing his eyes back on to the road, running his free hand through his blond hair. "honey, talk to me."

"...what do you want me to say, katsuki?"

"just.. tell me what you're thinkin', okay? what you're feelin'. the fuckin' truth, goddamn it, don't shut me out."

fucking hell. it was just so easy to give in to your feelings, to tell him how much you missed him. how much you wanted to be with him again. but you were afraid — afraid of having to start the healing process all over again.

but.. that didn't stop you from bearing your heart out.

"you want the truth?" you turn your head to face him. "fine."

"it haunts me that you're the first thing i think of whenever i'm overjoyed with something or whenever i have a bad day. that whenever my friends ask if we could eat something spicy, i think of you. can't tell you the multiple times i had to hold myself back from hitting the send button to your old number."

"i missed you too, katsuki. more than i thought. hell, more than i should. you never left my mind, no matter how many times i tried to tell myself that you did."

katsuki remained silent for a while, his mind obviously occupied with your confession as he watched the road. it made you panic a little. was it too much?

but then, without warning, he makes a quick turn, swerving off the main road and into a nearby parking lot like his life depended on it.

it catches you off guard as the car suddenly lunges forward, making you hold on to the side of the car door. he parks the car in a secluded corner, away from any prying eyes.

"what are you doing?" you asked, still taken aback from what happened as you watch him unbuckle his seatbelt.

"what does it look like i'm doing?" his eyebrow arched, as if the answer should be obvious.

without waiting for a response, he reclines your seat for more space. he unbuckles your seatbelt before climbing over, hovering over you. "gonna get what i fuckin' want. and right now, sweets, that's you."

you swallowed hard, his words and closeness sending a shiver down your spine. you could feel yourself getting hotter with every second that passed, your body aching for his touch.

but you were still reluctant. even with your thighs clenched together, your core felt like a pool of hot, wet need. and he could tell.

katsuki's frustration was evident. he lets out a deep sigh, leaning his head against your neck, inhaling your scent, barely trying to hold himself back from doing anything drastic.

"honey.. come back to me. please."

his voice was thick with pathetic need, a raw desperate desire for you burning in him.

fuck.

you know you should put up a fight, should try and resist him. but your body was aching for him.

and you really, really, couldn't fucking care less.

the moment your palms caress his cheeks, katsuki's eyes flutter shut, and he leans into your touch, sighing. you can feel him shiver under your fingertips, his body burning with longing. as your eyes meet his, a flash of raw desire flickers across his face.

and then, it's as if a dam breaks.

he leans in, his lips crashing into yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. his mouth is hot and eager against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips in a possessive, needy gesture.

katsuki's hands find your waist, strong and sure, pulling you closer as if the space between you is unbearable. you could feel his dick pressed up in between your legs, almost trembling with the intensity of his need.

your fingers slide up into his hair, tangling in the soft, unruly strands as you deepen the kiss. he groans against your mouth, the sound low and guttural, sending a shiver down your spine. his lips move against yours like he’s trying to memorize every curve, every taste.

when he pulls back, just enough for his forehead to rest against yours, his breath comes in ragged gasps, mingling with your own. his crimson eyes, half-lidded and heavy with desire, bore into yours.

“don’t think for a second that im done with you,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse. “you're not gettin' outta here until i've had my fill of you, sweets."

he grins, chuckling darkly. "or should i say.. until i've filled you up."

when he grinds his hips harder against yours, you can't help the gasp that escapes your lips. the feeling of his dick pressing against you makes your head spin, desire pooling in your wet cunny. fuck, was he always that big?

"oh, fuck," he inhales, almost hissing. "you feel that, sweets? hm? feel how hard my dick is, just for you?"

your bit you bottom lip, your head nodding slightly in response. your breath hitches when his hand reaches for in between your legs, inching up your skirt, rubbing his thumb against your damp panties.

"look at you, already such a fuckin' wet mess," he coos, a predatory grin on his face, glancing between your clothed, wet cunt and your flushed look. "haven't even started yet. you that eager for me, sweets?"

"stop being such a fucking tease and just.." your cheeks burn, embarassed, turning your head to the side. "fuck me."

"oh, i plan to sweets, don't worry," his voice low and sultry, tugging on the elastic of your panties, pulling them down your thighs. "wanna taste you first. haven't tasted this sweet fuckin' pussy in a long, long time."

"katsuki.. what if someone sees us?"

"honey.. i don't fuckin' care."

katsuki had brought you to the backseat of his car, stripped you off your skirt and panties and had your legs spread out like he needed to taste you or he'd die.

katsuki flicked his tongue at your clit, licking up your sweet, wet slick, feeling you squirm and mewl from under him. your legs were practically begging to be close shut, but he forced your legs open with his big, strong arms, both of his hands holding either side of your thighs.

"fuck, sweets, you taste so good," he groans against your folds, the intoxicating scent of your sweet cunt flooding his thoughts. "so fuckin' wet.."

you could hear the squelching sound of his tongue lap at your pussy, the lewd sound of his saliva and your slick turning you on. you took off your top and unhooked your bra, tossing it somewhere in the car. you played with your tits, pinching your nipples as you watched him ate your pussy like it was his last, delicious meal on earth.

"katsuki," you mewled, breath hitching as he fucks you with his skilled tongue.

"what, too much?" katsuki rasped, enjoying how you responded to his touch.

you nodded, already seeing stars.

he grunts, biting your inner thigh before chasing your orgasm again. "fuck that. missed this tight wet pussy of yours too much. can't believe you kept this sweet thing from me for so long..."

"katsuki," you moan his name, you grip on a handful of his hair, embarassed, almost going cross-eyed. he was eager to give you his all, it was slightly overwhelming. but you needed him. "too much, too much..."

"take it all for me, yeah, sweets?" katsuki grunts, raising the pace of his tongue, earning whimpering noises from you. "i know you can, c'mon. makin' my dick so fuckin' hard just watchin' you, holy shit.."

katsuki continues his delirious advance on your cunt, his perverted appetite for you making him so fucking horny. his cock twitches in his pants from the arousing act, throbbing from all the gluttony he was feeling. he couldn't get enough of it. he acted like a man starved and he needed all of you to quench his craving.

not that he'd ever stop craving you.

"katsuki, 'm about to-" you wail about your climax. your walls tighten around his tongue, your hips squirming from under him. you push your cunt against his face, wanting more friction.

"cum for me, sweets, c'mon," he continued to lap at your wet, sloppy mess. "need to taste you so fuckin' bad."

"fuck, fuck!" you squeal, moaning loudly as you painted his tongue white, shattered breathing as your chest heaved up and down.

katsuki doesn't waste another second, burying his face in between your legs as he glides his tongue across your pussy at a quick pace, savoring it all and riding out your orgasm. your legs shake from the overstimulation he was doing, whimpering from the way his tongue feels. he looks at you greedily, his cock agitated as his carnal desire to fuck you until your legs shaking burns more in him.

"'m so proud of you, sweets. c'mere, come gimme a kiss," he moves closer to you, his touch gentle and affectionate as he caresses your cheek before pressing his lips against yours in a kiss. you could almost taste yourself on his tongue.

his kisses are slow and gentle, his fingers find your nipples, pinching them as your fingers find their way into his hair.

he pulls away from you, panting and sweating, quickly stripping himself of his clothes, tossing them somewhere in the car.

he tugs his boxers down and pulls his cock out, already dripping with pre-cum before pulling you back in for a sloppy, desperate kiss. fuck, you don't remember it being that big.

you could feel his erection, his cock cushioning your wet cunt, his throbbing tip kissing your stimulated clit, just begging to be inside of you.

"you ready for me, right, sweets?" he murmurs, in between your tongues clashing together, waiting for your nod. he dips a finger inside you, making you moan. "look at this fuckin' pussy, could just slip in and bury my dick deep inside of you..."

"please," you plead, your voice soft and trembling, a pout tugging at your lips. you're needy and desperate, the words spilling out in a breathy whine. "i need you... so bad."

"god, you're killin' me here sweets," he took a deep breath, panting for air. "you sure?"

you took a shaky breath, your eyes meeting his. "yes. please... i want this, i want you."

your words broke the last thread of his restraint. in an instant, he closed the distance, his lips crashing onto yours with unrelenting intensity. as if you were his only source of salvation.

katsuki's hands found your waist as he grips on you firmly, guiding you onto his lap and positioning you to straddle him with an effortless, commanding strength. he was desperate, completely consumed by the need for you, his longing obliterating any trace of rational thought.

katsuki positions his dick inside of your pussy, groaning as he watches you mewl, disappearing inside of you and stretching your walls painfully. yet you still felt the raw need for him.

"katsuki," you pant as you sat on his cock, adjusting as you dangle your arms by his shoulders. "fuck me, pl-"

he doesn't even let you finish, carrying you briefly before slamming you down on his cock, feeling your pussy clamp down on him again and again.

"you look so pretty like this, sweets, fuck," he looks up at you in awe. his moves his mouth is on your tits, sucking on your nipple.

you take it all with a wail, closing your eyes in blissful pleasure as the tip of his cock kisses your walls.

"oh my fuckin' god, i love you so fuckin' much, sweets. holy shit. and this fuckin' pussy too. you know that, don't you?" he asks, his crimson eyes gazing into yours, tension filling the small corners of the car.

"yeah," you nod, your skin heating up, stammered breaths as his cock was stretching you, abusing your warmth.

"then say it back."

"no wa-"

you scream as katsuki humps you down on his cock mercilessly, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you struggle to take him. your hips squirm against the girth and length of his cock abusing your hole to its satisfaction.

"katsuki!" his name slips out of your lips, letting out a wanton moan as his deep, hungry thrusts buck inside you out of spite. "sl-slow down..."

"hell fucking no."

"katsuki, please!"

"not until you say it back."

"fucking- fine! i love you, okay?" you mewl at the pain, but at the same time it made you feel so so good.

"say it again, didn't hear it," he taunts, his thrusts still deep and desperate enough capable of making you cream on his cock.

"i said, i love you!" you panted, whimpering from his hips snapping into yours.

"that's my girl," katsuki grins, letting his hand travel to caress your cheek before pulling you in for a messy, sloppy kiss.

you feel your cunny coil of essence, chasing your climax desperately with him at the last few thrusts.

you pull away from him, panting. "katsuki, fuck, gonna cum again..."

"mhm, gonna cum too, sweets," he grunts, thrusting into your cunt sloppily. "cum with me, yeah?"

you pant out of bliss, nodding. his hips snap into yours as he thrusts into your cunt harder, dripping of your shared slicks.

you mewl as shockwaves of pleasure hit you, throwing your head back as your tight, white walls clench around his cock. katsuki groans, his hips stuttering as he cums inside of you, a creamy frothy ring of white wrapped around the base of his cock as it kisses your folds.

both of you lay intertwined together, bodies tangled and panting together, breaths mingling, basking in the quiet warmth of each other's presence.

you pout up at him, delivering a playful slap to his cheek before sinking into his arms with a huff. "you're so mean."

katsuki chuckled deeply, the sound low and teasing. he didn't seem offended by your light hit, he seemed more amused by it.

"oh, please, you love me," he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer against his chest. he nuzzled into your hair.

his body relaxed somewhat as he held you. he couldn't help but marvel at how easily you fit against him, how well your body molded to his.

"i've missed having you in my arms, you know," he admires you, tugging a strand of your hair. "it's been... goddamn painful."

you bite your bottom lip, a deep sense of understanding in the sympathetic smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. you hold his gaze, knowing intimately the emotions that swirl within him. "i know, hon. me too."

the softness in his eyes is palpable as the pet name you had for him washes over him, a hint of vulnerability there that he rarely shows. he hides his face in the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "honey, i never wanna let go of you again."

you raise an eyebrow, a cheeky grin on your face as you tenderly caress his cheek, your gaze locking with his.

"i'm not going anywhere."

he looks up at you, returning your grin. his lips then gently meets yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

"good. i wouldn't let you even if you tried."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ tags (blogs who requested/ commented / reblogged on teaser): ˚⋆ @pikachuzhc @dragonscribble @obitosdefencelawyer @oladelmars @dietc0ke-stomach @liliththedxmon @junehasnotbeenfound @kaizuzuzu @babylambdietcoke @bri-licious08 @itadoriwife @katsukiglazerrr @secretlilli @trishiepo0 @akitafox @un-limit-edd @kalulakunundrum @krbkswifey @orangeheliophile @kenqki @thisbicc @augustraine @lisbethw @vikizzy @king-dynamight @legendarybatherringmonger @srcyy @moonlightwriter

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ was overwhelmed with how much attention the teaser was getting, EVEN ONE OF MY FAVORITE WRITERS LIKED THE POST @cathnospam ILYSM YOURE MY HERO. feedback/constructive criticism is always welcome!! i was working on my thesis defense (accepted!!) while writing this so i apologize for the delay and if theres any grammatical errors^^ i am beyond grateful to all of you and i hope you enjoyed reading the epitome of me being horny for katsuki🥹🥹

[hannieoftheyear]

After All This Time (kmg)

When you're asked to be on the wedding party of a long-lost friend, you get the chance to reconnect with former classmate Mingyu, but not without your old feelings and struggles resurfacing.

✧˖* pairing: groomsman!mingyu x bridesmaid!reader

✧˖* w.c: 18,7k

✧˖* genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, angst, it's another self-indulgent 'running away from your high school past' story from me.

🎧: still into you — paramore

check out my main masterlist ♡

✧˖* warnings: alcohol consumption, a lot of not standing up for oneself, kind of unrealistic wedding timeline (i've never been a bridesmaid so bare with me), mingyu has no flaws here because... im in love with him, this might be badly written I can't really tell anymore | smut: it's messy, and rough, face sitting, unprotected penetration (don't do this), multiple orgasms (f). lmk if im missing anything

The unopened letter stares at you from across the table. Trying to ignore it by doing your housekeeping chores is pointless. Scrubbing your toilet, doing your laundry, making your bed, and even cooking your meal preps for the entire week, nothing managed to take your head away from that stupid letter, wondering what could possibly be.

You and Olivia haven’t spoken properly since graduating high school many years ago. The last time you had a full-on conversation with her was when she told you she started seeing a new guy freshman year in college, someone who went to your same high school but never knew. Besides that, your only form of “communication” was liking each other's Instagram stories and the yearly happy birthday text. A letter from her addressed to you was the last thing you expected to see today, or ever.

Curiosity finally wins as you take it and inspect it up close. The pastel pink envelope with golden details feels sturdy in your hands, and the wax seal is stamped with two initials, O and T. The boyfriend’s name appears in your memory as the realization hits you. Olivia and Thomas.

This is a wedding invitation.

Opening the envelope just confirms your thoughts, but there’s more to it than just a mere invitation. Just below some details such as dress code and the plus one, there’s a part specifically addressed to you asking you to be one of Olivia’s bridesmaids. Your stomach turns, anxiety, and excitement battling it out in each of your organs. For one, it’s really heartwarming that she thought of you as a friend still and wants you to be a part of such a special day as her wedding. On the other side, it’ll be awkward to see everyone again after such a long time, because, weirdly enough, you never encountered anyone you knew ever again, even if you didn’t move away and still frequented same places as before.

Except, maybe that anxiety is just because of one person, who’s probably going to be more than involved in this wedding. Cassie, your other best friend.

Being a trio was never a problem. Actually, it’s probably the better friend group arrangement for you. The three of you got along immediately since the first day of middle school and never looked back. It was always fun and comfortable, you thought you had found your best friends for life. But something happened around the age when girls start noticing boys, when everyone starts going on dates, flirting, kissing, getting into relationships. That’s when you realized you and Cassie had the exact same type. It became almost like a routine: you’d notice a cute guy around school but didn’t say anything, and the next thing you know, at the next party Cassie would also notice him and hook up with him. You were sure you were in your very own Truman Show.

Was it partially your fault for not saying anything? Maybe, but did it have to happen with literally every single guy you were ever attracted to? It reached a point where you would constantly doubt yourself, compare yourself to her, was she cooler? Prettier? Smarter? Funnier?

In the end, it wasn’t her fault, and you’d never blame her for that, but for your own good and the wellness of your crumbling self-confidence, you had to get away from that situation. And you did. At least until now. But it’s been years, you’re not the same person you were back in high school, and hopefully, all of your self-doubting was also left in the past.

A sky-high, lavish building stands before you in all of its glory. You were no stranger to your old friend’s rich family, but her lifestyle always managed to take you by surprise.

Olivia wanted all the bridesmaids and groomsmen to meet and get comfortable with each other, so she and her fiancé arranged a little afternoon party at their apartment. Over the few texts you exchanged with Olivia, she failed to mention the other people on the wedding party. So during the elevator ride, you think of every possibility, who could be there that you know? With how many people from school has she kept in contact with? Will you know the groom’s friends?

The doorbell rings inside the busy apartment, and a few seconds later you’re welcomed by your old friend with a bright smile. You hug Olivia tightly, the weirdness of the situation fading away for a few seconds. Afterward, you greet everyone with a shy smile, recognizing some faces and encountering new ones. Some people are standing in groups of three or four, while others sit on the couch or a few scattered chairs, talking with each other comfortably.

“While we wait for the last people to arrive, I want to start telling you what I have planned.”

Olivia announces as you walk away slowly, and you find an empty wall by the hallway to rest against.

At least twenty minutes pass, in which Olivia doesn’t take one breath, her happiness and excitement showing through her endless words. The wedding plan is not really out of the ordinary, but the scale of things, that’s the impressive part. She has seven bridesmaids, including you, plus the maid of honor who hasn’t arrived yet, and her fiancé has the same number of grooms, plus the best man. Each of you will pair up throughout the days coming up to the ceremony, and on the big day, each pair will have matching outfits and even a dance scheduled after the couple’s first dance as a married couple. Her idea was essentially thought so no one would feel out of place and enjoy the ceremony, because it should be a happy day for everyone.

While she explains everything for the second time, you take your time to look around the big room full of people. Scanning every face, there isn’t really a lot of girls you know, but the groomsmen, on the other hand, all of them went to your same high school. It seems Olivia’s fiancé still hangs out with his same group of friends. One of them, in particular, sparks a little smile across your face.

Mingyu was the only other person you considered a real friend in school. As scary and anxiety inducing as it is to have classes without your small friend group, he made it more than bearable, enjoyable even. Becoming friends with the nerdy boy assigned as your lab partner is one of the things you remember fondly about those years of your life. He was like a breath of fresh air during all the turmoil. Would he remember you?

His eyes catch yours from across the room, and an instant smile forms across his lips. After all the years that passed, he still looks the same. He’s much more mature and fully over puberty now, his broad bulky frame being one of the more standing out new things about him, but you’d recognize that confused expression and toothy smile with fangs peeking out anywhere. Your mood rapidly improves as he mouths a ‘hi’ and waves his hand lightly at you, not wanting to interrupt the bride to be. You repeat his greeting with a growing grin, but your small interaction is cut short.

Your name catches your attention, and you turn to Olivia, “you and Mingyu will be our last pair. Is that okay?”

The relief is immediate. It might be a little awkward, but at least you’ll be with someone you know. You and Mingyu look at each other once again and then nod at her, but before she can continue with whatever she is saying, the entry door opens behind her.

“Hi everyone!” The familiar voice makes your stomach drop, “I’m sorry I’m late. My boss wouldn’t let me go.”

She looks the same too, only with longer hair and more mature features on her face. Her body language holds the same coolness, as sure of herself as she was when you were younger.

“It’s fine. It’s nothing the maid of honor hasn’t heard before.” Olivia replies to her with a chuckle.

“Oh my god! I haven’t seen you in so long!” When she greets you, you straighten your posture, put on your best smile, and hug her back. “How are you doing?”

“Hey Cassie, good, good, just working my life away!”

You joke and try to ease up your emotions. Your few words manage to satisfy her as she nods with a smile, walks away, and pecks one of the groomsmen – her boyfriend? – on the lips before sitting by his side.

The schedule is easy for Olivia to finish explaining it, so in no time, food starts rolling in, and conversations pop up between everyone, either catching up or normal everyday chats. Cassie starts telling a story about something that happened earlier at her job, but you don’t really understand it. You haven’t talked to them in so long, you don’t know what they do for a living, or where they work. You don’t know them anymore, and you’re too afraid to ask.

To the side, a couple of people over, Mingyu’s talking with the rest of the grooms' friends comfortably. You want to talk to him, but what would you say? It’s not like you were the closest of friends. You never hung out outside of the school, and your friend groups never actually interacted until now. Actually, you never told Olivia and Cassie about him. Maybe because you were afraid that if you introduced him to Cassie, he’d swoon over her like the rest of the guys you ever interacted with romantically.

An uneasy feeling creeps in on you as memories of your past fight to climb up on your memory. Feelings and thoughts you haven’t felt in years come back up, almost reliving everything in a matter of milliseconds. You need to talk to someone, take your mind off of your overthinking. Because this is not the time nor the place to get so gloomy.

You get to talk with the rest of the bridesmaids, and the anxiousness of it all starts bubbling down, and you’re much more comfortable. A couple of them are close family friends with Olivia, also as rich as her, but still really nice girls, even if a little airheaded, and the rest are friends from college.

Time passes by easily, and soon enough, the sun is already set.

On the ride back home, your mind starts spiraling again. Do you even fit in with all those people? An invite to her wedding would’ve been just fine, but a bridesmaid? You feel like a total stranger, someone from her past who’s meddling around trying to sneak into a place she purposely left behind. At least you won’t have to see anyone ever again after the wedding is over.

It is said that changing your usual routine helps improving your mood, taking another path home, shopping at a new place, sitting down at a different park, trying a new coffee order, changing the little things to feel more energized and be more productive. You wouldn’t know, because every task you complete as fast as possible to be back home quickly. So, after days of not being able to think about anything else but the upcoming wedding, it’s your only option left.

With the sky lit up with golden light, the grass and trees as green as ever, and a light breeze that prevents you from getting too hot, you walk around a park you’ve never been to before, with your new ‘hot girl walk’ playlist as a soundtrack. The kids running around the playground are the only sounds that get through your ears besides the music, maybe a bark or two as well, and the sun against your skin soothes all your worries. Damn. Going on a walk does fix your mood.

A hand grabbing your arm softly startles you, and you’re about to punch the mystery person when you recognize his face.

“Mingyu?”

His eyes are focused on your fist that was ready to hit him, and you lower it down, beginning to take out your airpods.

“Sorry! You scared me!” You erupt in a nervous laughter.

“I’m sorry! I called your name but you didn’t hear me.” He stands apologetic in front of you, looking down at his feet before daring to look back up. “How are you doing? We didn’t get to talk the other day.”

“Yeah! It’s good to see you! I didn’t expect you to be there, it was a nice surprise.” Is it too weird to say that? Well, it’s already done.

He gets the tiniest bit shy at your words, his ears turning a light shade of pink before disappearing quickly.

You notice a bicycle by his side, a cute pink helmet with glittery heart stickers hanging by the handle. He must’ve been biking when he saw you and took it off before calling your name.

“I didn’t know if you were still friends with Olivia, I didn’t know if I was going to see you either.”

You fixate on the first part of his sentence, ignoring your body’s reaction to him implying he wanted to see you.

“Oh, we’re not really that close anymore.” There’s a silence as you finish your words, as it wasn’t the reply he was expecting. “Life, you know? We just grew apart.”

It was you who stopped making an effort to talk to her, but even if it was still for your own good, you’re a little ashamed to admit it to Mingyu.

“She still asked you to be her bridesmaid. That must mean something.” Ever the positive guy, he tries to make you feel better after the sour comment.

“Yeah, it’s really nice of her.” The sun shining so bright prevents you from looking up at him, but you smile, hoping he can see it.

The slow steps you’ve been taking side by side turn awkward with silence. You wanted so badly to talk to him after the other day, but now that he’s here, in front of you, you can’t think of anything.

“It’s good that you still hang out with the guys.”

You don’t know what else to say, and the words spill out of your mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice the awkward atmosphere, his body as comfortable as ever walking by your side.

“Yeah, even though not as often as I’d like.” A regretful smile forms across his lips. “Our schedules haven’t been lining up, I met Olivia in person maybe a total of three times over the years.”

“What? There’s no way you didn’t share any classes in school?”

He shakes his head, chuckling at your surprise.

“I think I only ever shared one class with her, but I didn’t really care much about her crowd back then.”

“Wow, thanks for that.”

He means all the popular guys your friends would hang out with, and you know it, but there was always something so fun in teasing him and seeing him get so pouty.

"You know I don’t mean you.”

His shoulder pushes your body lightly to the side, and you chuckle together. It’s hard to prevent the red from rushing to your cheeks. Maybe he’ll mistake it for a faint sunburn.

“That’s a cute helmet you got there.” Your eyes point to it as a way to distract him.

“Oh, that?” He picks it up with what seems to be an embarrassed voice tone, but his actions quickly override it. He puts it on proudly and looks at you with his eyebrows raised, “my sister gave it to me when I bought the bike, gets all the ladies.”

“I'm sure it does.”

Attention from women he for sure gets, but probably not because of that thing. His tall, muscular body is enhanced by the tight blue t-shirt he's wearing. You didn’t get a proper look at him the other day, and now, standing next to him in broad daylight, you almost wish you could still live in the ignorance bliss of not knowing the exact height difference between you two.

“So, what are you doing around here?”

His words make you realize you’ve been staring for a few seconds, and you look ahead, hoping he didn’t notice. He forgets to remove the helmet, making you chuckle quietly before answering.

“I just got off from work and thought it would be nice to take a different route home.”

“That’s such a coincidence! I come here, like, almost every week to bike around.”

“Wow, It really is.”

For how long have you been avoiding this specific park for no reason? Pushing away your chance of meeting the one and only person you would’ve wanted to?

A ping from his phone alerts both of you, taking you out of your little bubble.

“Sorry I-" His expression falls as he reads the new text, “I have to get going, but it was really nice seeing you!”

"Oh, sure! I didn’t mean to hold you back.” It comes out quieter than you’d like. “Goodbye!” With a simple smile and a tiny wave at him, you turn around.

Right when he gets on his bicycle again, before he starts pedaling, he looks back at you, taking your first step in the opposite direction.

“Wait!” When you turn around, he’s taking his phone out of his front pocket, “Can I get your number?”

The both of you blush at his words, and you look up at him cautiously.

“So we can catch up and, you know, get comfortable with each other for the wedding.”

You had already forgotten about that. The reason you even met him again in the first place.

“Sure!”

Your hand trembles slightly when you take his phone, and you mentally beat yourself up for it. It’s just your number! It could mean nothing.

“I’ll text you later so you can save mine.”

And with a wink, he’s off to whatever he was late to.

Great. Now you’re not only re-living your high-school anxieties but also your high-school crushes.

During the following days, you find yourself checking your phone more often than ever, always with the hope that you’ll get a new message from Mingyu. Texting almost every day since the encounter at the park, the time when you’re both free to talk has become your favorite part of the day.

It started shyly, merely updating the other about your lives since finishing high school, your jobs, and hobbies. But as time passed, the never-ending conversation eased onto your daily routines. You’d wake up and text Mingyu, update him as you arrive at work. Lunch, break, evening, clocking out, dinner. Every little free time you got, you’d text each other back and forth.

A text notification cheers you up constantly, thinking that it could possibly be him again. But it’s not always the case, like this time.

It’s Olivia reminding you that, in exactly 29 minutes, you have the dance rehearsal with all the maids and grooms. Half an hour, and you live 1 hour away from the studio she rented. A little white lie never hurt anyone, so you tell her something came up and you'll be just a little late.

You love weddings, but if you had to choose one thing you don’t like about them, it would definitely be the dancing. You can’t dance for shit. You’d tell your right leg to move forward, and your left leg would move backwards, like your body can’t comprehend instructions when they’re related to dancing. Usually, you stay in your seat, choosing not to embarrass yourself in front of all the guests, but this time, you can’t get out of it. Poor Mingyu will leave the class with at least five bruises on his feet from you stepping on him.

The dance studio is part of a new, contemporary looking building on the exact geographic center of the city, a place you would always pass by but never thought you’ll get to enter. Standing at the front desk, over half an hour late, you feel too out of place. Your clothes are probably wrong, your hair is completely disheveled, you don’t remember on which floor is your class, and you don’t even know the name of the dance teacher.

After a long discussion with the receptionist, she finally understands what you’re here for and lets you go up to the 13th floor.

The walk from the elevator to the studio feels longer than it actually is. Three to four footsteps become long, slow turtle-like steps. But not even the infinite time you spend taking four steps prepare you for your stomach to drop down to the basement at the sight of Mingyu dancing with Cassie as soon as you open the door.

His hands on her waist, her arms around his neck, dancing slowly in circles, laughing about something she just said, you can almost hear something inside you break. After all this time, nothing really changed.

“Hey! You’re finally here!”

Olivia’s voice brings you back to earth.

“Hi! I’m really sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.” The dance teacher gives you a look, and you lower down your voice, “So how is this going?”

“We had to put them together,” she points the dreaded pair, directing your eyes to them once again, “because neither you or Tyler were here when we started, but after the song’s over you can join him and I’ll practice with Cassie, okay?”

You nod with the best spirit you can manage to express.

“Is Tyler the guy she was with the other day?”

You don’t forget to whisper so the class isn’t interrupted by your chatter.

“He’s the only one of Tom's friends who’s not from school, don’t worry, you didn’t erase him from your memory.”

You stifle a laugh before it gets loud.

“Good, I was starting to feel bad about not recognizing him.”

In reality, his existence doesn’t matter much to you either way, except for something. “Are him and Cassie a thing?”

“She says it’s something casual but, and don’t tell her about this, I paired them up together on purpose so they can finally realize that they like each other!”

Your lungs clear of air in an instant after hearing those words. She’s not available. She has a boyfriend, sort of. A boyfriend who you do not know nor have feelings for.

“Your secret's safe with me.”

“Mingyu's nice and all, but if he messes with my plan and charms her, I will personally revoke his invitation to the wedding.”

You both chuckle just as the song finally ends, yours quieter than hers. Both of them see you with Olivia, but only Cassie comes forward to say hi.

“Hey girls! Good to see you!” She gives you a little hug before directing to Olivia. “So… Tyler isn’t showing up, I assume.”

“He told me a few minutes ago that something came up and can’t come, sorry.”

Her hand flies to Cassie's shoulders to comfort her, but she doesn’t seem bummed by the news.

“Well, then, I have something to ask you.”

Her presence suddenly becomes overwhelming as she grins at you with a proposition in mind, seemingly all thought out.

“Are you close with Mingyu? Olivia told me you were classmates.”

How did she know? Maybe you did tell her about him after all.

“He used to be my lab partner. Why?”

“How did you not crush on him back then? He’s such a cutie.”

“I probably did, I don’t remember.” Lie.

“Could you find out if he has a girlfriend, pleeease?”

A buzzing sound is all you hear for a few seconds, like your brain forgets how to function. Words don’t come out, and you’re freezed in place as Cassie looks at you expectantly. To the side, Olivia looks just as puzzled by her request.

“W-why?”

“Because, he’s really hot and, if I need a quick rebound because of that other fucker, I need to know I’m not messing with a relationship.”

Silence is all you produce once again.

“I just need a tiny bit of info, and it’ll be weird if I ask him directly, so could you please try?”

“Sure… I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything.”

You’ve never sounded less excited about something in your whole life. You love some gossip and some drama, but not if it involves a genuinely nice guy like Mingyu being used. Or maybe it’s just because it’s him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Cassie jumps excitedly and hugs you once again, just as the dance teacher calls for everyone to gather.

Mingyu’s hands slot carefully at the sides of your waist, guiding you swiftly and sparking goosebumps across your back. Your arms wrap awkwardly around his neck, making him crouch a bit so you can look properly at each other.

“Were you always this good? Or did you become a professional waltz dancer in the half hour I wasn’t here?”

You remember him telling you the other day, during your endless text conversations, that he, like you, wasn’t particularly excited about dancing.

“Let’s say, hypothetically, that I practiced before coming here, what would that say about me? Hypothetically.”

“It would say that,” you drown out a cackle before you can continue, “you take your duty as a groomsman very seriously, hypothetically.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want you to think I was a dork, hypothetically.”

“You’re too late, I already thought that.”

A pout forms on his mouth at your giggles, and he flashes the world's most menacing puppy eyes ever.

“I mean it in the best way possible!”

“Isn’t it embarrassing?”

“It’s cute!”

His face shifts with skepticism, sending enough signals saying he didn’t like your choice of words.

“It’s charming!”

The warmth his body emanates wraps around you fast. His expectant eyes looking down at you and the closeness of your bodies rises your temperature in record time, your cheeks pinking up furiously. You keep talking as the nervousness takes over you.

“At least it worked! You’re a really good dancer, I’m sorry I keep missing the beats.”

“You’re giving me too much credit. You’re not that bad.”

“Now you’re just lying. My limbs are physically unable to coordinate more than three steps. You’re guiding me through every single one!”

His hands tighten just the tiniest bit around your waist, like a confirmation for the both of you that they’re still there.

The teacher’s voice echoes all around you until it finally punctures your bubble, and you’re able to hear the class you’re here for. The steps she’s explaining for a second time make no sense in your head, too many turns and moves for you (and your body) to comprehend.

“I need all the pairs to practice the final steps again.”

Only her final words make sense on your mind, and when you look towards Mingyu, his hand left its place on your body and is extended at you, his eyes kind yet concentrated back on the dance. You nod, taking his hand with an electrifying rush going through your veins.

Mingyu guides you firmly but with care, moving along the beats of the waltz. With each step, your synchronization improves, and the moves flow along easily, your bodies understanding each other. You can’t help but smile as you look him in the eyes, a familiar warm feeling bubbling up inside you.

“You're doing a really good job.”

His eyes catch yours, a little wrinkle forming by each of their sides before he cracks a smile to match yours. There’s something in the way he looks like when paying attention to you, like a spell being casted on you, making you crave more.

“It’s because it’s comfortable with you.”

Your mouth betrays you and sends out the words without checking with your brain, but weirdly enough, you don’t fear his reaction. It’s just the truth.

“We’re more in synch than you thought.”

You swear you see a glimpse of a smirk before he spins you in his arms.

As you turn and move together through the song, you think your excitement isn't solely because of the rehearsal going well. It could be simply a wish, but a spark of something is definitely lighting up. The way Mingyu holds you, attentive and confident, you can't help to think he feels it too.

“You think we can be this good the day of the wedding?”

There’s more anticipation than curiosity in your voice, remembering you’ll keep meeting until then, you’ll keep seeing him.

Mingyu reaches closer until his warm breath fans your ear and his lips graze your cheek.

“We could meet a few days before and practice, like I hypothetically did today.”

“You think I need practice?” You tease to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Maybe it’s an excuse to see you again.”

A mix of shyness and giddiness overtakes you as you giggle at his proposition. But in the midst of your interaction, you skip a crucial move and begin to turn, stepping right on one of Mingyu’s feet and almost tripping over to the side. His hand secures you by the waist, the hem of your t-shirt raised just enough so his fingers brush your fiery bare skin.

“Ok, maybe I do need the practice too.”

The teacher talks to you on the background, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything other than Mingyu’s touch lighting fires across your body, his worried eyes over your ‘almost’ fall, and his smile when he realizes you’re laughing at your clumsiness.

The music starts over, and you only realize it because his hand is extended at you once again.

“Let’s give it another try.”

“So, you didn’t get to ask him?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot about it. I was so focused on learning the dance that it slipped my mind.”

Running into Cassie coming out of the subway was the last thing you expected (and wanted) right now. Trying on dresses is the one bridesmaid related thing you were least excited about. So many hours of putting clothes on and off, picking colors, showing the rest of the girls, giving your opinion on their dresses, and listening to their opinions on yours. It just sounds so exhausting. But your mental pep talk got interrupted when Cassie saw you walking up the stairs of the station heading to the bridal shop.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“He didn’t say anything that would imply he has one, if that helps.”

More than a helping hand to her, you're starting to hope he’s single too.

“That’s good to know, thank you.”

“I don’t really get why you wanted to know, though. I thought you had a boyfriend.”

“He’s not... I mean, it’s not like, official. I wanted him to get jealous, but I'm over that now.”

“Oh, so... you talked about it with him?"

“Kind of... he just explained why he couldn’t come to the rehearsal, and I just, couldn’t get mad at him simply for that, right?”

“Right...”

You know virtually nothing about their ‘relationship’, or about him for that matter, so it’s maybe for the best to stay out of their… thing.

“Anyway, about today, do you have something in mind for your dress?”

“Not really, I was just thinking of browsing through the store and seeing what they have.”

“Wow, really? You’re so chill about it. I have a pinterest board with all the styles and shapes I like. I even checked their online store to see what they have in stock beforehand.”

“That’s… actually really smart.”

“Nah, don’t be nice. Did you at least think of a color? Olivia wants all of us to be different colors, but in pastel, obviously. I personally didn’t really care about it, but I chose pink after some thought.”

“Oh, actually, I didn't know that.”

“It’s okay, you can decide when we get there.”

“Did the rest of the girls choose already?”

“Maybe? I haven’t had the chance to ask them.”

“I hope I don’t get green then, I don’t really like how it looks on me.”

“You’ll look amazing either way. Don’t let a simple color wear you down!”

Small talk with Cassie turns out to be quite nice in the short walk you have up to the store. It's a pretty shallow conversation, but not at all stressful like you thought.

The place is really fancy looking, tall glass windows and blinding white interior. It makes you take a breath just by looking at the displayed dresses. Relieved that Olivia said multiple times that she’ll take care of everything and not to worry about the prices, you and Cassie walk inside.

You didn’t expect every girl to be already there, and you especially didn’t expect the groomsmen to be also all there. The girls browse through racks and racks of different shaped and colored dresses, and the men are sitting back, talking with one another, waiting for their bridesmaid to ask for their opinion.

Cassie goes straight to greet Mingyu with a hug. Even if he isn’t the closest one to the door. Even if Tyler is there also. And you walk behind her, slowly, shy because of all the people aware of your arrival. You give Mingyu a shy smile as a greet, and he returns it warmly.

After the dance rehearsal all those days back, you’ve been hesitant about contacting him again. There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s quite the opposite, actually. He’s caring, attentive, and kind towards you. You just don’t want to fall in your black hole of a crush on him again. especially after Cassie made it clear to you that he’s caught her eye too. Sure, she just told you she made up with her boyfriend, but her actions are already contradicting her words.

Olivia sees you with Cassie and walks quickly towards you two with a smile on her face.

“Hey girls! How do you like the store?! Isn’t it huge?”

“It’s unbelievable! I’m gonna need at least two hours to look through all the dresses!”

Cassie answers, staring at the lengthy room in awe. You can feel Mingyu’s eyes on you. Or maybe on Cassie. Regardless, you’re in his line of sight, and it gives you chills.

“Well, you have all the time in the world today. I reserved the whole store for the entire day for all of us, and the staff is also here to help us if needed, so don’t worry about asking for help!”

“That’s amazing!” You both exclaim at the same time.

“Thank you!” Cassie doesn’t look back and goes straight to the racks of pink dresses. You’re about to go and walk around as well. Maybe try to find a color that suits you, but Olivia stops you before you can even take a step.

“Wait! I got the list of the available colors left for you,” she hands you a sheet of paper with almost everything on it crossed out, “I’m sorry, I know there isn’t much left.”

“Oh don’t worry, it’s fine. I should’ve picked it earlier. It’s not your fault.”

It’s disappointing to see that only two items aren’t crossed out. Light teal and pastel green. Green and teal aren’t ugly colors by any means, but you always feel awkward when wearing them, so you’ve learned to avoid them. The back of your throat itches to close as you think about looking ugly at the wedding, in front of so many people, in front of him.

“I saw some of the teal dresses earlier, and they’re all super cute! You’ll look amazing!”

“Oh, ok, I’ll go check them out. But, just in case, isn’t there any way for me to change colors?”

“You could ask someone to swap with you.”

Your mind instantly goes to Cassie. Earlier, she told you she didn’t care which color she wore, maybe she wouldn’t mind switching with you. You spot her easily on one corner, asking Mingyu about his opinion. She looks up at him with glittery eyes as one of her hands places itself on his arm. The sight turns your stomach upside down. You want to stop watching the scene as much as you want to break them apart.

Your legs make the decision for you and walk you to where they’re standing. They don’t notice you walking over to them until you speak up.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt you guys, but Cassie, could I ask you something?”

Mingyu’s the first one to look up at you, his face lighting up as you interrupt whatever Cassie was saying to him. She’s slower, making sure to hang the dress back on the rack before turning to face you.

“What do you need?”

There's very little annoyance on her tone, but you don’t miss the way her eyebrows arch and her eyes dart to Mingyu, signaling you that she wants some alone time.

“I wanted to ask if you, by any chance, were willing to switch colors with me?”

“What happened? Which ones are left?”

“Basically, just green.”

“Oh, that’s such a bummer.”

There’s a silence when she finishes talking. You wait for her to continue, blinking at her, but she just doesn’t. Her sentence ended there.

“Yeah, so, would you swap with me?”

“I…” Her body language turns awkward as she thinks of an answer, side-eyeing Mingyu, who’s also waiting for her, but with no context to what you’re asking her.

“I just, you said you didn’t really care about the color, so I thought you wouldn’t mind changing it.”

You huff, not helping the awkward atmosphere around the three of you. Your eyes connect with Mingyu’s, who's silently watching the interaction from the side. You hate that he’s seeing you in such a state, so... desperate for something that’s not that big of a deal anyway. You need this interaction to be over.

“You’re right, I did say that,” you can already see where this is going, “but, I kinda already put my mind to it, and it took a lot of convincing to get Tyler to match with me. He already bought his suit, and I don’t want to make him mad by changing everything so suddenly, I’m sorry.”

“Oh…”

You can feel your stomach contracting, your throat threatening to close, your eyes getting ready to be filled with tears. This is so stupid. It’s just a stupid color. It's a stupid dress you’ll never wear again. Why is it affecting you so much?

“Wait, I’m sure Tyler wouldn’t mind changing.”

Mingyu’s soft voice sounds closer to you, but you can’t really see much with your eyes trained to the ground and vision blurry from tearing up.

“No, it’s fine, let’s not bother him.”

Blinking away the tears is easy, but looking up and finding a concerned Mingyu makes you feel like jelly. Cassie’s long forgotten as you focus on him, his tall figure watching over you, his hand placed on your shoulder, squeezing lightly, silently comforting you.

“I’ll go try and find something I like.”

“I can look with you if you want.”

“No, it’s fine, you can go back to what you were doing.”

You walk away, leaving him standing there, still worried about your sudden reaction. Cassie is just behind him, waiting for the opportunity to get his attention back.

But you try not to think about him or her while browsing through the store. Trying your best to be positive, to not get dragged down by a simple color choice, or by a friend – if you can call her that – that couldn’t help you.

Hours go by, and it’s easier when you focus on other things. You help the other girls decide on their dresses, reacting and applauding, helping them find new ones if they aren’t satisfied. It’s fun, contrary to what you previously thought, it’s like playing a dress up game, except every now and then, it’s Cassie who comes out on the make-shift runway, and the first opinion she asks for is always Mingyu's.

At one point, everyone has already decided, and you’re the only one left. All the girls you helped come together to try and find you the best possible dress, bringing a new one to you with hopeful smiles on their faces every few minutes.

You try them on, eager to find one and be done with it. But, even if they look gorgeous when on the hanger, they always got something that doesn’t sit right with you when you put them on. And after trying dress after dress, you grow more discouraged.

Olivia notices how tired you are and tells you that you can come back another day, alone and less anxious, but then again, that would mean stretching the situation for longer than needed. You decide to try on one more dress, one that Olivia picked specifically for you, and if you’re not satisfied, you’ll come back with her the next day.

The store lady helps you put the dress on, her sweet smile never fading, even if it’s the tenth dress she helped you put on already. The pastel green silk fabric glides smoothly over your skin, hugging you in the right places as the lady zips it up. Your back’s facing the mirror, too afraid to look in it again and find another disappointing result.

“Sweetheart, I think this is the one.”

The kind woman’s voice startles you, but her honest smile makes you believe her words. You inhale deeply, calming yourself before turning around. But instead of looking at your reflection, you walk outside the changing room and onto the lobby.

Every pair of eyes is on you the moment you step out, your arms wrap around your torso in an effort to shield yourself, and you can feel your cheeks being painted a bright red color. A few gasps are heard, and when you look around, the girls who helped you are all covering their mouths, eyes wide as they watch you cautiously strolling forward.

At the back of the store, it’s like time stops for Mingyu. Whatever he was doing, forgotten at the sight of you. He was unaware of how much your appearance could affect him. His eyes are trained on you, allured by your figure, scanning you up and down like a piece of art worth studying.

Buzz erupts all around you, mumbles and praises about your dress and how you look in it, but it’s all background noise for you. Mingyu’s heavy stare finds yours, and his ears turn a faint shade of pink. The subtlest smirk begins to form on his lips, spreading the warm feeling on your tummy all across your body. He can’t seem to drive his eyes away from you, and you don’t want him to. Your arms relax under his gaze, disarming the protective shield around you and drop to hang by your sides.

But, in a matter of seconds, the girls swarm around you, blocking all 360 degrees around you. Their positive opinions flood your ears as they walk you back to the dressing room, trying to convince you to choose this dress. You can’t look back, but you’re sure all the groomsmen left together.

Doesn’t matter. You’re definitely getting this one.

After spending the whole day shopping together, it marvels you how these girls still want to spend time together. When they noticed all the boys left, they planned an impromptu girls' night at Olivia’s apartment.

It’s amazing how they can spend hours and hours talking with each other, a few drinks here and there, never running out of topics, entertaining you when you’re too tired to talk.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you sit back on your side of the couch to read the new text.

Mingyu: hey, how are you?

Mingyu: sorry i couldn’t stay today, they dragged me to a boys night

Everything that happened a few hours ago flashes through your mind, waking a giddy smile on your face as you reply.

You: why are you sorry?

You: the girls wanted to do a ‘boys free’ night, we’re at Olivia’s rn

Mingyu: i didnt want to leave before making sure you were okay

Oh.

You: im better now

You: it was fun helping the other girls, took my mind off of it

You: but thank you, you didnt have to worry

Mingyu: good to know :)

Mingyu: next time ill drive you home

You: drive me home? Will i sit on the bike's handlebar?

Mingyu: i was thinking more like a piggyback ride

You: hmm... ill have to think about it

You tune back to the conversation before anyone notices you not paying attention, having no idea what turns the topic has taken in the time you weren’t listening.

“I think he’s definitely seeing someone.”

The girls divided into two groups with different conversations going on, but sitting in front of Cassie, you can only hear her side of the table. They might be talking about Tyler and their “relationship” problems.

“I really don’t think he is. He didn’t use his plus one you know.”

A smile forms in your mouth when your phone vibrates in your hand once again.

Mingyu: can you believe the wedding’s so close already

You: times moving so fast

You: i cant believe its less than two weeks away

Mingyu: it feels like it was only yesterday that tom told me he was getting married

“But today, he didn’t seem at all interested, he was really out of it from the start.”

“Maybe seeing dresses all day is not his thing.”

“No but like, I tried every move on him, and he didn’t even bat an eye.”

Bits and pieces of the still going conversation manage to register on your mind, and you realize they’re talking about Mingyu, unaware of your current chat with him.

You: is the boys only hang out getting boring? Its not very polite to be on the phone you know

Mingyu: theyre all playing games, havent looked my way in over 30 mins

Mingyu: besides i much rather talk with you

You: well i wont argue with that

Mingyu: you seem bored too

You: you’re definitely helping me get through the night

“Maybe he’s just not interested in you.”

Olivia teases Cassie, even though her comment is more than just a joke. But why is Cassie so adamant on wooing Mingyu if, according to Olivia, she really likes Tyler?

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Mingyu: you know what I just realized

Mingyu: I forgot the dance routine already

You: omg me too

You: we might have to meet to practice like you said

Mingyu: we can do it at my place

Mingyu: you up for it?

You: i should ask you that

You: your feet are going to suffer because of me

Mingyu: that’s a risk im willing to take

Mingyu: but I gotta warn you, I take my practice very seriously

You: sure, you can carry me back to my apartment after we're done

Sitting on Mingyu’s couch, waiting for him to get back from the bathroom, you’re too tired to do anything else than looking around his living room. It’s so him. The warm and neutral colors make everything feel cozy, with pictures of him and his family hanging on the walls – no ambiguously romantic photos with unfamiliar girls, and everything is so tidy, not one pillow out of place, even after practicing for over an hour. Out the window, you can see the sun starting to set, and the buildings across the street start lighting up. You recognize all of them. 

All this time, he’s lived so close to you. His building barely a ten minute walk away from yours. You can’t help but wonder, what would’ve happened if you kept in touch, if you just walked two more minutes to the park he frequents, or sent him a follow request on Instagram the few times he popped up on your recommended. It comforts you that at least you have this chance to reconnect with him, to make things right. 

But sounding confident over text is easy, and now, you’ve only danced for the whole time you’ve been here, barely even talked about anything else. 

It’s conflicting, the guilt of meeting with Mingyu behind everyone’s back – even if it’s no one’s business –, the excitement of seeing him alone after weeks of only wedding related stuff, and the actual need to practice the dance so you don’t embarrass yourself, all colliding in your mind, making everything awkward for you. 

Like ten thousand spectators, the windows of every apartment watch you through the glass, just sitting, waiting. Mingyu left only a couple of minutes ago, but after the many times you stepped on him, you wonder if he’s actually hurt. 

“Are you okay? Tell me if I need to call a doctor for your feet!” 

You shout with your head looking towards the bathroom door. His chuckle travels all the way to your ears before he opens the door. 

“I’m fine, I swear.” 

As he comes out, your body tingles with nervousness once again. He sits beside you on the couch, unknowingly making your head spin. 

“You sure? I don’t think feet are supposed to withstand all of that.” 

“I’m okay, just tired, why don’t we rest for a bit?” 

They way he sits, on his side, facing you, and his arm resting on the back of the couch, your eyes can’t help but wander to where his arm muscles start showing. Every variation of the phrase “butterflies in your stomach" could describe the way you feel as he watches you, paying so much attention that you mumble your next sentence. 

“This couch is way too comfortable. It makes me want to just stay here the rest of the day.” 

“Let’s do it! We can even have dinner here. If we order take out, we can tell them to leave it at the door.” 

“That sounds nice, but one of us will have to go get it.” 

“When my roommate comes home, he’ll bring it inside for us.” 

“Oh my god, you have a roommate? When is he coming back? I don’t want to be a bother.” You look towards the entry hallway, like he’s about to come in and kick you out. 

You really don’t want to leave, Mingyu’s company is already becoming one of your favorites, but you hadn’t counted on being around another person, and in their home for that matter. You start to get up from where you’re sitting, worried about having overstayed your welcome, but Mingyu’s hand grabs yours softly and drags you back down. 

“I invited you here. It’s not like you’re trespassing.” 

“But I’ve been here for hours, is it not too much?” 

“I guess I don't want you to leave.” 

His hand hasn't let go of yours, his skin against yours waking up your whole nervous system. You like how it feels when he’s looking at you, but you can’t help feeling too observed under his gaze. 

“Should we practice one more time?” You get up as your other hand takes Mingyu’s free one to try and get him off the couch too. He doesn’t fight your push, but you still struggle to move him barely an inch. 

“Now that I think about it, my feet do really hurt.” 

When he stands up, your hands dreadly separate as you go press play on the song you had paused earlier. 

“You’re a big and strong man, you can handle one more dance.” 

The music starts slowly, and when you turn around to go where Mingyu’s standing, he’s quick to put his hands around your waist and bring you to him. 

Like that day in the dance class, your bodies are quickly coordinated. You’ve been over the same dance for over an hour now, so at this point, every step is engrained in your muscle memory forever. 

“Why don’t you take the lead on this one?” He might’ve felt your sudden confidence in the moves, but fails to realize it’s only because you’re doing it with him. 

“Do you have a death wish? The last time I tried to take the lead on a dance like this, it ended really badly.” 

“But you’re doing good now! I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad.” 

“Don’t you remember the senior prom? When I made my date trip and he fell onto the chocolate fountain? He got completely covered in melted chocolate.” He shakes his head, making you more confused. “He dislocated his shoulder. You really don’t remember? 

“I don’t-” He chuckles at your story but stops his words when he realizes you don’t get what he wants to say, “We left early.” 

“Oh… I guess you had a good time with your date.” Thinking about him with someone else puts a bad taste in your mouth. 

“I didn’t have a date, I went with the guys.” Somehow, that’s less believable than you being a good dancer. 

“I vaguely remember seeing you dance with a girl. Is my memory failing me?” You remember because you hated it. 

“Maybe I did dance with someone, but I couldn’t score a real date.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I am! Why don’t you believe me? 

“Because I knew at least ten girls who had a crush on you back then.” 

The dance is already forgotten. None of you make the effort to go over the moves. With your arms hanging around his neck and his hands holding on to your waist, you’re just going around in slow circles, eyes connected as your talk turns into something more. 

“Well, I wasn’t interested in them.” 

“But still, you could’ve easily gotten a date.” You could let the subject go, and maybe you should, but you really want to make your point. “I would’ve gone with you.” 

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” 

“But I mean it.” 

“You wouldn’t have gone with me.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Yes I do!” His tone gets serious, and it just makes you more desperate to make him understand. He needs to know he’s wrong. 

“No, you don’t! You would know if you had asked!” 

“I wanted to! 

You stop in your tracks, looking straight into his eyes, seeing little hints of shock on his face as he realizes what he said. If your bodies were closer, you’re afraid he could feel that you stopped breathing for a second. 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“Because I knew at least ten guys who had crushes on you back then,” you’re about to shut him off, but he continues, “and you did end up going with one of them.” 

“So, you did see me.” 

“Yeah, didn’t stay much after that."

None of you know what to say, as your minds work tirelessly to understand what this conversation means. 

“You really should’ve asked me.” There’s so much more you want to say, but you simply can’t. 

“You were kind of popular and, I don’t know… It messed with my head.” 

“I didn’t care about those stupid labels, and I thought you didn’t either.” 

“I know you didn’t, but I wasn’t a confident kid back then, I couldn’t just go up to the girl I liked and ask her out.” 

Your jaw reaches the floor after hearing those words. The girl he liked? 

Speechless for a few seconds, you can only look at him, trying to figure out if he meant to say those words specifically. He seems to be proud of what he said, showing no sign of regret. 

“So, now that you’re all grown up…” you dare to let your fingers caress the skin at the base of his neck, and his hands tighten around you at the touch. 

“One would think that, after so many years, things would’ve changed but-” 

“I don’t believe you’re not confident by now.” 

“That did change, but apparently, other things didn’t, even after growing up.” 

He tilts his head to the side cockily, his piercing gaze making you feel hot all over. 

“Maybe some things aren’t meant to change.” Like an adrenaline rush, it’s your turn to feel confident as one of your hands starts playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I'm starting to discover some things are not that different for me either.” 

“Could it be, perhaps, the same thing I’m talking about?” His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him little by little. 

“Hmm, I don’t know, you’re being very vague, I could be talking about still enjoying country music.” You joke so he doesn’t notice your heart beating twice as hard as normal. 

“I think you know what I mean.” His smirk is one new thing about him, not that you’ve never seen it before, but the reason behind it makes it way more thrilling to see now. 

“I want to hear you say it.” 

“You really didn’t know? I mean, back then, I always thought I made it obvious.” His chuckle sends shivers down your spine. 

“I wish I did.” You can’t help but think about how your life would be if you made a move on him all those years ago. “But I never said anything either, I was shy too.” 

“Good thing we can make up for the time we lost.”

His droopy eyes send you down a spiral you have a hard time coming back from, all your insides becoming putty, feeling his want through his embrace, but there’s still one more thing to get to. 

“You know… you say you’re so confident now and whatnot, but I still haven’t heard you say it.” The look you give him is all he needs 

“Fine, you win, I used to like you, and seeing you again made me realize I still kinda really do, I’m always eager to get your attention and to spend time with you.” He pauses to take the quickest breath ever, all while you’re losing yours. “I know we’re not the same people as back then, but if you want to, we can get to know each other, again, more mature and less stupid. I have my regrets about how I handled my feelings in the past, but I won’t make the same mistakes again. And I will ask you on a date after the wedding, just a heads up.” 

“Wow, I was fine with just an ‘I like you’, but it’s nice to see you’re just as down bad for me as I am for you.” You confess with a joke because, how can you possibly answer that? Your brain is barely receiving enough oxygen as it is. 

“And one last thing, I really, really, really, want to kiss you right now.” 

“Then why are you not doing it?” 

It takes a second for the words to register in his head. A second where you only look at each other, almost not believing what’s happening. The air around you gets so thick, so hot, almost unbearably heavy. And just when your hands begin to push his head your way, his lips attack yours.  

All the resurfacing feelings come to life, colliding like a thousand stars that have been running to meet for millions of years. His arms around you bring your body closer to his, forcing you on your tiptoes to follow his lead while his hair tangles between your fingers. 

It's surprisingly slow, yet hungry and desperate, making the other feel everything through the connection of your lips. You move along with him naturally, and when he bites your lower lip as a request for access, you don’t hesitate. His hands creep under your shirt just as his tongue dares to move past your lips, exploring your whole body to his liking. 

Your chests flush together, leaving little to no space between your bodies, and you can do nothing but melt in his embrace. Your hands wander around his arms and back, touching and feeling every muscle they encounter on their way. When his hands travel down your lower back and reach your ass, you sigh on his lips and immediately feel his smirk against you. 

A furious knock on the door makes you both jump and separate, leaving you looking at each other, breathless and with confused faces, until you hear a knock again, as strong as the first one. That’s when Mingyu decides to check his phone and sees it's his roommate, who had apparently forgotten his keys. Both a blessing and a curse. 

“Bro, what the hell? I’ve been calling you for about 15 minutes.” You hear the door opening, followed by a new, deep voice. 

“I told you I had company.” Their voices echo through the hallway. 

When they finally reach the living room where you’ve been awkwardly trying to make yourself look presentable, the roommate's face morphs into something, a mix of surprise and realization. You rush to gather your stuff after muttering some variation of ‘hello’ and 'goodbye' to him. Your heart still pumps twice as fast as normal, and you don’t trust you’ll be able to handle yourself if you stay for longer. 

“I’ll see you on the weekend?” Mingyu asks when you’ve both reached the entry, his hand on the handle, hesitant to unlock the door. 

You want to kiss him again so badly. His lips are parted, still swollen, calling to you to connect them with yours again. 

“Find me when you crash the bachelorette party.” You make your best effort to sound confident and not at all dizzy because of him.  

“You know about that?” 

“The bridesmaids know everything... It’s only a surprise for Olivia.” You peck him goodbye, like a promise for more. And the feeling of his lips on yours lasts all night.

It’s roughly around 1 am. when a high-pitched scream from Olivia announces to everyone at the bar that the bachelor party has officially arrived. 

The effects from all the alcohol you consumed in the last 4 hours are just starting to fade, only a little buzz left. But that doesn’t prevent you from seeing what’s happening all the way across the room. 

Mingyu standing with his hip resting on the barstool, listening to Cassie as she drunkenly asks him something. You want to stop looking, not wanting to let all your previous feelings resurface again, not after the recent development in your relationship with him. But just as soon as you’re about to turn your head the other way, Mingyu interrupts Cassie’s rumbling and tells her something, to which she doesn’t respond, nods awkwardly, and just walks away, leaving him standing there. 

That’s your signal to walk over to him. 

“Looks like I found you first.” 

“Damn, I wanted to get you a drink first.” 

The music and the people drunkenly signing and shouting makes it hard for your voices to reach the other, and Mingyu takes the opportunity to take a step closer to you. 

You stand against the bar as the room grows warmer and warmer the closer his body gets to yours. His height taunts you as he stands against the bar as well, forcing you to look up so you can see the smirk on his face. His fingers play with yours as the intensity of his stare increases. You don’t care that you’re in public, that anyone from the wedding can see you two. Maybe you want them to. 

“How’s your night going?” His hair tickles the side of your face. 

“It was really fun, I might be growing fond of the girls." You don’t remember much, just a vague memory of many different games you played to get drunk, and the feeling of being happy. “How about yours? Don’t tell me you went to a strip club or something like that.” 

“Actually, we did a drunk escape room, didn’t even know those existed until today.”

The closeness between you is getting more worrying by the second, mainly because if you hear his low chuckle next to your ear one more time, you might pass out. 

“That sounds horrible!” You chuckle away from his personal space, only to encounter his hungry eyes already looking at you. 

“It was fun, I wish you could’ve been there.” His honesty has a sultry tone to it that makes your lungs completely empty of air. 

“I’m not sure we would’ve made a good team.” 

“Why? You’re smart! Or at least you were back then.” 

“Hey! I still am!” 

“I really have to get to know this new you.”

The pink and blue lights reflect on his face, giving him the most beautiful sparkles on his eyes, directed at you. 

“It’s not that new, I’m still very introverted, don’t talk much when there’s a lot of people around.” 

“I like that, you’re observant, good thing to be while in a escape room.” 

“We’re still talking about that?” 

“Maybe, maybe not, I don’t really care, I just wanted to spend time with you.” 

“Are you drunk?” You can only ask with a smile plastered on your face, but he shakes his head. 

“You kinda make me feel like I’m a teenage boy again, I don’t know how to explain it.” 

“I think I get it.” You place your hand on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart under it, even harder than the music blasting out of the speakers. 

“You know, back then, every time I had a free period, I would make my friends walk past whatever class you had, just to get to see you, at least for a second.” Out of everything he’s drunkenly confessing, this may be the one that surprises you the most because you really never realized he felt the same. He notices you freezing in place. “Once they found out, I was relentlessly bullied by them.” 

“I sure hope it was worth it.” If the lighting was any better, he'd be able to see the cherry red covering your cheeks and ears. 

“Every second of it.” Everything around the two of you moves slower, like time’s stopping only for the outside world, and the muffled background noises do nothing to pierce the bubble around you. “I really want to take you on a date, a real one.” 

“I would very much like that.” 

You can see the gears turning through Mingyu’s eyes, and you move your eyes down to his lips so he can take the hint. But nothing happens as someone else enters your little world. 

Olivia’s aware that something’s going on, her eyes switching back and forth between the two of you before she speaks. 

“I need your help, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m getting worried about her.” 

“About who? What happened?” Mingyu stays behind you as you turn to Olivia, grabbing one of your hands, and his warmth gives you goosebumps. 

“It’s Cassie, she’s been sitting alone in the restroom for I don’t know how long, she's way too drunk and I can’t take care of her.”

You now realize she’s slurring her words, meaning she’s also too drunk and therefore can’t take care of another drunk person, leaving you no choice but to go help Cassie. You look back at Mingyu, who encourages you to go, even if it takes a little too long for his hand to let go of yours. 

The graffitied restroom provides you with a little more light than the rest of the place, and when you enter, you recognize Cassie sitting on the floor inside one of the stalls. Luckily there’s no one guarding the bathrooms because if she’s seen throwing up, it could potentially get you both kicked out. 

You sit on the dirty floor beside her without saying a word, letting her know you’re here to help without giving her a headache. Her forehead’s resting on top of her knees as she hugs her legs tightly. But after a minute or two of silence, you decide it’s best to check if she’s at least awake. 

“Cassie? Are you okay?” Your hand on her shoulder makes her look up at you. 

“I don’t feel so good, I just want to sit down for a while.” She sounds tired, her husky voice giving away all the talking and singing she’s been doing all night. 

“Do you need anything? I can get you a cup of water.” 

“No, please, just stay here a bit, I didn’t want anyone to see me but I don’t want to be alone.” 

“Ok, I’ll stay, let me know if you need something, anything.” 

Time passes by, the music making it easier for you to not get bored. A few people enter the restroom from time to time, too drunk or too in a hurry to notice you both sitting down. Olivia passes by the door a few times, hovering, checking if everything’s okay (and if you’re still in the same position as the previous time). You just smile and nod, letting her go back to her party time and time again. But at last, in one of her check-ins, she finally walks inside. 

“Hey, Mingyu’s looking for you!” Both you and Cassie look up at Olivia, but her eyes point at you. “What do I tell him?” 

You instinctively look to Cassie by your side, and her expression falls. 

“Don’t, don’t go with him.” She finds the strength to plead to you, but she seems more worried than anything. 

“Why? Did he do something? Is that why you’re hiding here?” Olivia asks, and you realize she didn’t leave after you didn’t answer her. 

“No, no, I mean, yes I’m hiding from him, but he didn't do anything, it was me, I embarrassed myself.” 

“Why are you telling me not to go with him then?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“I-” Wow, blunt question out of the blue. 

“You can be honest, it’s fine.” 

“Yeah, I do, I like him.”

Telling them, her, the truth feels kind of freeing. Finally admitting in front of them that you like someone, after not being able to for so many years, it’s like you can finally breathe. 

“Then, for your own good, don’t go with him, he’s seeing someone.” 

“What? How do you know?” That freedom lasts barely seconds before a new weight falls right on top of your lungs. 

“He told me, when the guys got here, he said that he’s been after a girl for years and they recently started going out.” 

“Are you sure? Did he use those words?” 

“I’m not saying it verbatim, I don’t remember it exactly word for word, but that’s what he meant.” 

Could he possibly be talking about you? How recent is ‘recently’ supposed to mean? You haven’t even started officially dating. Is confessing your feelings considered the start of dating? Is it supposed to be this confusing? Are you going to believe her? Not that Cassie’s a liar, but you don’t know the context nor the exact words he used, and she doesn’t know what happened between you and him either. 

“Should I go tell him something?” Olivia's already standing up, your silence not helping the situation. 

“Just-" You don’t want to push him away, but it’s not the time to resolve this. The whole thing is too confusing to be making desperate decisions at this hour of the night, “Tell him to go have fun with the guys, I’m getting Cassie home.” 

The loudest alarm you could’ve ever set up wakes you up with a jump. Your head hurts like your inside out emotions are building houses inside your skull. But the memories still hit you as soon as your eyelids burst open. Some decisions were definitely made the night before. Wrong ones? That’s to be seen today.

And thanks to the gods and Olivia’s always late waking family, you’re not supposed to be at the venue until 11 am. Only bad news, It’s on a luxury complex outside the city. You have time for a real breakfast and a shower, but all the thinking and feeling will have to wait.

You unlock your phone to find the last text conversation open and the messages you barely remember sending stare at you through the dim screen.

Mingyu: you left so suddenly

Mingyu: everything ok?

You: yeah

You: had to take Cass to her place, she wasn’t feeling well

Mingyu: that’s too bad, hope she feels better

Mingyu: you just got home?

You: yep, about to go to bed

Mingyu: great, just checking before i head to sleep

Mingyu: sleep well, big day tomorrow

Admittedly, you were a little dry. Cassie’s words were still lingering on your mind, making you doubt everything. One side of your brain telling you that he was probably talking about you, he explained what he felt and what he wanted and sounded sure and truthful. But, the other part of your brain, the still self-conscious and self-doubting side, also makes valid points. The void years in between your relationship weren’t mentioned in his confession, and you technically aren’t dating. He hasn’t even asked you out yet! It’s too conflicting. But you know you have to face both of them today. After the ceremony.

The taxi ride to the venue is not only long but full of traffic. The sun shining bright directly to your face, the light humming of the driver to the songs of the radio and the occasional car horn on the distance, somehow make it bearable, with all the thoughts about the previous night, switching sides between the he said she said, it’s nice to have something constant while your minds goes on a rollercoaster.

A rollercoaster that doesn’t stop even when you arrive. As soon as you step foot outside the car, Olivia’s mom rushes you upstairs to where the make-up artists set up. There’s no time to admire the beautiful countryside venue. You walk past the door to where the ceremony’s going to be held later, but rush up the stairs without even looking. The green dress already waiting for you at the door, an infinite echo of voices and even more people running around make the atmosphere feel dizzying.

Nothing slows down for even a second. Even when you’re sitting down having your make-up done, around you there’s only people rushing to do everything, stressing about the little details, people running into the room to tell Olivia or her mom about decorations, the wedding planner coming in and out constantly, checking everything’s in order. It’s kind of beautiful how all this mess has the sole purpose of making today the best day for the couple. Even if it doesn’t look like it, no one will remember the dress that wasn’t properly ironed, or the string of hair that had too much hairspray on it, or the too slippery shoes that made it a chore to walk on the tiled floor.

So much chaos happens between the hair and make-up, and then with the photoshoots, you don’t have time to talk to Mingyu. Your eyes would cross from time to time, but those milliseconds of him in a suit glaring at you from across the room are enough, and there’s so much of that you can take before an internal chain reaction begins.

The walk downstairs, after all the make-up retouches and fixes to any rebellious stray hair that didn’t want to stay in place, feels like the first calm and slow moment of the day. As the steps get closer and closer to the bottom floor, the red carpet muffling the clicking of your shoes, your insides feel fire-like when you see Mingyu waiting for you by the final step, an unknowing smile on his face. His eyes drill holes on your figure, scanning you up and down shamelessly.

“You chose this one, I like it.” He whispers by your ear as you walk to the door, where every pair is already waiting. A little smile shows on your face, but it fades when your eyes encounter Cassie’s, watching the two of you with a frown so little you only notice because she immediately relaxes her face.

The music starts before you can say anything to Mingyu, and one by one, each of the bridesmaids start walking down the aisle, arms linked with the groomsmen, gracefully walking forward as the eyes of every guest fall on them. Your arm tangled with his is the first touch you share since many days ago, and even with all the conflict making your mind a blur, your heart speeds up at the feeling of his muscles.

Nothing seems slow anymore, and the ceremony almost goes by without noticing. There isn’t one second where you don’t feel Mingyu’s eyes on you, making it impossible to focus – or pretend to focus – on what the priest is saying.

The moment your brain reconnects with your ears, Thomas delivers the most beautiful vows you’ve ever heard. You met the guy only once, never even spoken to him, but the way he speaks so fondly about Olivia makes your heart clutch in your chest, and your throat tries to fight it, but you end up bursting with tears. But you’re not the only one with a cascade of dramatic tears falling with seemingly no end. As the room fills with applause and even some whistles at the first kiss between the officially married couple, you see some people with tissues, quietly blowing their nose.

But the never-ending rush in time continues, everyone sprinting to sit at their tables for the reception. The last retouches of make-up get done quickly. The girls gossip to kill the time before the dance, because for them it’s moving so slowly, but in the blink of an eye, you’re going out the door once again, just as Cassie taps on your shoulder. You turn to her, expecting her to be angry, or at least to start speaking, but it looks like she’s still figuring out what to say.

“Thank you, for taking care of me last night, I’m sure you would’ve preferred to enjoy the party.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone, it’s fine, you don’t have to thank me. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, I am! But actually, I wanted to apologize.” Your head spins, dizzy from the world suddenly stopping hearing her words. “I didn’t know there was something going on between you two.”

“There’s not- I mean, not much happened, I didn’t want to cause a fuzz over it.”

“But you should’ve told me you liked him, at least! If I knew about it, I wouldn’t have gone after him.” You see in her eyes nothing but honesty. “I know we’re not as close as before, but these are the things we need to tell each other. It’s the girl code.”

“I don’t really know why I didn’t, I know I should’ve, I didn’t know how.” You’ve now started to go downstairs to the reception, already the time to dance in pairs.

“Look, it’s okay if you’re not comfortable telling me this, but did something happen? Was he talking about you last night?”

You’ve reached where everyone is waiting, and you’re too embarrassed to look up and possibly find Mingyu standing there, leg-melting and breathtaking.

“I thought about it but I don’t know, maybe?”

Back at the reception, the music starts, signaling the newlyweds are about to begin their first dance, meaning in no time you’ll have to step in and dance around them.

“I’m going to ask you three questions and you just have to answer yes or no. There's no need for explanation, okay?”

“O…Kay?”

“So, you two knew each other in school, did you like him?” You nod shyly, not looking in her eyes, embarrassed to be talking about this so openly, “Did he like you?” You nod again, “And did something happen recently that would indicate that he would like to date you in the near future?”

You give her a final nod and finally look up at her. She sighs, taking your hand and squeezing it to make you pay attention.

“Then he meant you dummy! Go, talk to him. He’s been staring at you all day like a lost puppy.”

When you dare to look his way, where you just knew he was standing, he’s looking at you, a little smirk on his lips and subtly motioning he's ready to take your hand. You didn’t notice it was already time, and everyone around you stands in their position.

The pairs start entering one by one, and your smile trembles, feeling the eyes of every guest on you. Your fingers barely graze his, but they feel raw, like you can feel every particle of his hand below yours. The electric fire emerging from where your skin connects with his runs through your veins in record time.

But as soon as the music starts and Mingyu turns you so you’re looking at him, everything is forgotten. The steps come easily, his eyes calm but observing, his hand on your waist guiding you as he did every time you practiced.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He whispers, not wanting to disrupt the moment, but knowing it’s the only time you’ll get alone.

“I swear I didn’t mean to.”

You panic. There was so much to do and so few words you could come up with to say to him that maybe you unconsciously avoided him by locking yourself up in the make-up room.

“Did I do something wrong?” He doesn’t sound hurt, but rather just plain curious, eager to work this out between you two.

“No! it was just a misunderstanding,” he waits for you to continue, but the part of your brain that makes sense starts crumbling, making it impossible to form a coherent argument, “I- can I ask you something? It might sound stupid, I’m warning you.”

“Go ahead.” He chuckles, his feet continuing to dance while you've already forgotten about it. One of your hands stays on his shoulder, while the other is being held by him, still in the air by your sides, reaching the height of your shoulders.

“You’re not dating anyone, are you?”

He doesn’t let the silence even come close to the two of you, chuckling quietly so you’re the only one who can hear it.

“I’m not, hard to believe I know, but I’m painfully single.”

“Great, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I remember telling you I want to take you on a date.”

“Y-yeah, of course I remember that too."

The pit of your stomach lights up at the remainder of that afternoon in his home, your bodies as close as they are at this moment.

“Then what made you think that?”

“You just, you said to Cassie last night that you started seeing someone recently and, I don’t know, we didn’t technically start dating, so I panicked.” Saying it out loud to him, it sounds ridiculous, but if he thinks that, he doesn’t show it.

“Oh that, yeah, I might’ve gotten ahead of myself, but hey, think of it as manifesting.” He’s so charming that you don’t care that he’s making no sense.

“Next time, don’t tell a drunk girl who’s flirting with you the wrong information. She might spread it around.”

The synchronized chuckle you let out makes you pay attention to the forgotten situation. You’re dancing and haven’t tripped once, like your muscles got a life of their own and remembered every single step. And you suddenly realize how close your body is to Mingyu’s. One hand down the small of your back, pressing just enough to hold you in his personal space, his face close enough that you could concentrate on his breathing and feel the light exhales on your face.

When the music ends, the applause makes you look around, and your cheeks feel warm immediately, noticing all the eyes on every one of you. But the attention is short-lived, as you and Mingyu walk quickly to your table so the couple can do the welcome toasts. You don't miss how he slides your chair closer to his before you sit down.

Sitting by your side, Mingyu’s body and yours are connected by an electric current, drawing you closer. His knee stays glued to yours, and the cut on the side of your dress allows your bare skin to brush against the fabric of his pants. A conversation takes place between everyone at the table, one of the guys telling a story about something funny that happened with Tom back in high-school, but it’s hard to pay any real attention when Mingyu’s fingers start tracing circles on your knee. He’s not even doing to be a tease. It seems like it’s a habit of his, one that you’re just discovering. You don’t stop your fingers from playing with his, and a subtle smirk forms on his lips at your action.

It’s not like you’re doing anything too flashy or indecent, but you do your best to mask your reactions to his touches, to try and keep the people of the table unaware of the not so innocent things going on under the fancy tablecloth. He only notices your changes because he’s paying attention to you. The way your chest rises just a tad bit more when his hand goes a little over your knee, or how you drink from your cold glass of water when he presses on the skin of your inner thigh, but when he’s about to move his hand off of you, you put yours on his to keep it in place. You also notice things throughout the night, for example, that Mingyu isn’t drinking a lot, restricting to one glass of champagne per serving. You do the same, wanting to remember this night in the future.

Mingyu stands up when the dancefloor opens again, turning down an offer to go to the bar for something stronger than sparkling wine. Instead, he reaches for your hand, silently inviting you to dance with him, to which you agree, with a smile and avoiding his eyes. Following behind him, he doesn’t let go of your hand, even when you’ve reached the spot he wanted. People join you on the dancefloor, drunkenly vibing to the dj set, surrounding you, and blocking you from anyone you know. It’s feels almost private. Whatever song is playing on the speakers, it doesn’t prevent you from following your own rhythm in your own world. Your arms wrap around Mingyu’s neck, and both of his hands hold your waist, mirroring the evening at his place.

“So, tell me, what other embarrassing things did you do when you liked me?”

He throws his head back in embarrassment, sighing with a smile before daring to look at you again. His ears turn a light shade of pink, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat between your bodies.

“I really told you that, did I? I was hoping you wouldn't remember.”

“Nope, I remember it very vividly actually.”

“Let’s leave the embarrassing stories for the future, I wasn’t in my best condition last night.”

“You’re making me too curious now, but how drunk did you get last night?”

“Honestly, I was just nervous about seeing you and about tonight.” He might be confessing another embarrassing thing, but behind his truthful tone, there’s something you can’t quite decipher.

“What’s there to be nervous about tonight?”

Your heels allow you to be in his line of sight, and your chests are too close. If you inhaled deeply, you’d be able to feel him on you. He takes advantage of your new height and forces your attention to go to his lips, smirking shamelessly as he thinks his next words.

“Did I tell you how pretty you look today?"

One hand comes close to your face, removes a strand of hair from blocking your view, and tucks it behind your ear.

“Oh, shut up.”

You can’t even think of a snarky response, your brain melting and showing just how much he affects you. Goosebumps spread all across your arms and back at the feel of his hand caressing your skin.

“I can’t, it’s all I’ve thinking about all day, you, this dress, and you in this dress.”

You instinctively hide your face on the crook of his neck, his cologne invading your senses. It’s hard to think of words when he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you whole.

“I got it because of you. Do you really like it?”

Not that you need any confirmation, since he’s told you twice already, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear it from him one more time. Your reveal makes his smirking lips graze your ear, sending shivers down your spine, and his voice drops an octave to answer.

“I love the dress, but I’ll love it more once I get it off you.”

“I hate you.”

You barely manage to say, your chest rising but breathless at the same time. Your body’s automatic reaction is to push him away, and your hands go straight to his chest to try, but of course it’s pointless. His hands catch yours, not letting you leave his personal space. He taunts you by spinning you around, and once you do a full twirl, he grabs you by the waist again and brings your body to his.

“You have no idea how hard it was for me that day when you stepped out, wearing this.” He gets closer to your ear with every word. You hate it and love it. For one, you can hide from his teasing eyes and blush in peace, but on the other hand, you are cheek to cheek with him, his breath fanning lightly on your side, and you can feel he’s still smirking. “You’re lucky there were other people in the room.”

A breath catches in your throat, and you swallow hard. You thank all the gods there are out there for being surrounded by drunk people. Because to anyone on their senses, your reaction to Mingyu's words would be too obvious.

“I really hate you right now.”

It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the heat growing at the pit of your stomach.

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“I think it’s quite the opposite actually.”

How are you supposed to play hard to get when his hands hold you like he wants to keep you forever?

“You think you know everything.”

You catch your voice about to tremble when his free hand starts going down the side of your arm, from your shoulder down until your hand, and interlocks his fingers with yours.

“If you hate me then, I can’t tell you the secret I’ve been keeping all night.”

“Have you been secretly writing an article about how to break someone’s heart in 10 days?”

“I love that movie, but it has been well over 10 days, I couldn’t make the deadline.”

“Rom-com connoisseur, noted.” You jokingly nod, but not forgetting what’s important. “Now tell me.”

“So, you know how they told us there were rooms available for anyone that couldn't drive home?” You nod, too enthusiastically. “I may or may not have booked one for tonight, and if you want to, there’s space for one more, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to…” He keeps talking, something about you watching him do something, but you get lost in the way his lips move as he talks, so pink and fast and hypnotizing.

“Isn’t it rude to just leave?”

The question leaves your mouth more to tease him than anything else. You want to be alone with him so badly, feel his body all over yours, his hands everywhere he can reach, ripping this godforsaken dress off you.

Before the last food serving rolls out and everyone scatters to go back to their seat, you sneak out of the reception, but the drunk bodies are not making it easy. Mingyu leads the way with you grabbing his hand and walking behind him. You don’t know if you could’ve managed another teasing touching session under the table.

You take a left turn into the hallway just at the same time as one of Olivia's drunk uncles, a stranger to the both of you, who’s half asleep using the wall to steady himself as he walks. The music echoes through the walls, and you can only look at each other, half about to burst out laughing and half needing to take the others clothes off, as you walk as nonchalantly as possible past the man trying his best to open his door.

Giggling like teenagers, you finally reach your room at the end of the hallway, but the second you enter, the atmosphere changes. Standing by the closed door, shoes off, panting, and frozen in place, you only look at each other. Your breaths regulate, and your smiles slowly fade off your expressions as the realization hits. It’s real. He’s here, and you’re here, in a room just for the two of you. His eyes are bound to your parted lips, but you wouldn’t know, as yours are also unable to leave his.

Like magnets, brutally drawn to each other, your lips finally reconnect in a hungry, desperate kiss. After learning how sweet he tastes, how his lips glide over yours so easily, how he wraps his arms around you to keep you close to him, there was only so much time you could spend in abstinence.

No words needed, the want translating in the way your hands push him against you, his hands traveling across your back, touching and groping everywhere he can reach. After the long day testing your patience, neither of you can slow down.

His fang claws at your bottom lip, making you whimper against him. He drinks in any sound you make, his arms bringing your body impossibly closer to his, almost making you one. No one is in control, both of you just touching and grabbing anywhere you can, desperate for more.

Your mouths reluctantly separate as Mingyu starts leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and biting lightly on your sensitive skin, making you gasp. You can only thread your fingers on his hair, encouraging him to leave any marks he wishes to.

“Is this okay?”

His raspy voice travels to your ears, and you don’t trust yourself to not make unholy noises if you open your mouth to answer. But just as you’re humming, he digs his teeth just above your clavicle, turning your hum into a moan.

He slowly slides the straps of your dress down your shoulders, his fingers teasing your skin on the way down. His hand travels across your chest, only the silky green fabric in between your fiery skin and his teasing fingers. They go over your pointy hard nipples, feeling everything on its way, but not letting it stay anywhere for more than a second.

“Are you going to take it off?”

Your breathlessness makes him chuckle, smug and cocky as ever.

“Rushed?”

“Very. You’re the one that put the thought in my head, now take care of it!” His hands sneak up your back, playing with the zipper of your dress.

“Don’t act so innocent.” His tone goes straight to your core. The fabric around you loosens up as his hand runs down your spine, but he stops before it gets too loose to slip down. “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me all day? You’re not slick.”

He takes a step back to take off his suit jacket, absentmindedly throwing it to the side without breaking eye contact. But you don't let yourself get shy.

“Who said I was trying to hide it?”

Your hands run from his shoulders to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt one by one as his breathing speeds up. The warmth of his body envelops your hands, your fingers barely grazing the skin above his pants, and his muscles tense at your touch before you slip his shirt off.

“Now who’s the one teasing?”

Pulling on the red tie around his neck, he swallows hard as you bring his head closer to yours, so close you unconsciously flutter your eyes closed. His bare chest rises against yours as you undo his tie slowly. You could tilt your chin up and break the tension once more, but something in you wants to keep teasing him.

A step back is all you need to have his lips chase you, and he opens his eyes, droopy and confused, to find you slipping your dress off. His stare turns surprised and hungry as you reveal yourself for him, but his body stays frozen in place.

“I’m supposed to do that.”

It’s your time to chuckle now, taking a step forward again. His hands slot on your waist instinctively, traveling to your stomach, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin against his hands.

“You’ll get to do it next time.” The sentence is almost left unfinished, a breath getting caught in your throat when his hands dare go up your chest. But they’re gone in a heartbeat, as they reach your face and tilt it so you can properly look at him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” No teasing tone on his voice.

“I’m literally naked in front of you.” Your hands go back up to his neck, pushing his head slightly down, reaching a hypnotic closeness. “I want this, I want you Mingyu.”

Confirmation is all he needed to let loose, to let the want take over his body and soul. He connects your lips with force, and wastes no time. With his hands on your ass and his tongue working its way inside your mouth, he stumbles backwards until you both fall on the bed.

With you on top of Mingyu, your hands make their way across his chest, his golden skin glistening due to the sweat. You can feel his hard muscles tense under your touch, making him sigh on your mouth when you find his sensitive spots. His hands move to your hips and push you down on him, making you both moan un unison because of the first friction between your cores.

His growing hard grinds deliciously against you. Even with his pants still between you, you can feel how big he is, and the wet patch on your panties grows by the second. Your lips are still smashed together, a mess of saliva allowing your lips you glide faster and hungrier on his, your tongues becoming one, not wanting to separate ever again.

Your hands find their way down his abdomen, reaching where his pants hang on his hips. The absence of a belt makes it easier for you to unbutton them, and he takes the off expertly, all without ever taking his hands off you.

The second your hand sneaks under his underwear, he groans under you, disconnecting your mouths to take a look at you.

“Is it embarrassing to be already close?” His blood red lips are parted, breathing out his confession, and you almost moan, clenching around nothing because of the sight, or his confession, or maybe the whimper he fights when you wrap your hand around him.

“You’re so big, fuck.” You sigh, and the side of his mouth quirks up, but slowly disappears as you start sliding your hand down, smearing the precum on his length.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His eyes have a mix of concern and lust on them, and your body doesn’t know how to react, your stomach flips, your hands tremble, and your underwear grows wetter.

“I know you won’t.”

You climb down on him, your eyesight reaching where his boxers begin to tent. His gaze follows you, like he can’t believe the reality of what’s happening. You take off the last piece of clothing left on his body, and his dick springs free, standing proud and angry red in front of your eyes. The throb on your throat makes you move forward, wrapping your lips around his leaking tip.

“Wait. Don’t.” You look up at him but he’s facing the ceiling, ears red and eyes closed. “I can’t.”

“I haven’t done anything.” You play innocent, and a smirk appears on your face when he finally looks at you, resting on his elbows.

“Exactly, that’s why I can’t, I need to have a little bit of pride left.”

“What do you suggest we do?” You slowly climb up on him again, his hands moving to your hips like they got a life of their own. One hand on his chest and one hand on his jaw, you kiss him softly, and he melts at your touch.

A soft moan is heard, could be from him, could be from you, but your mind is too clouded to care when he rolls his hips against yours, following the pace of your lazy kiss. A rush of arousal takes over your body when he presses you harder against him, his length sliding perfectly with your core, your wetness making it easier to reach every point that makes you gasp.

“I want,” his lips stop working on yours, but his arms keep you from separating. You feel his every breath, every gasp at the friction, and his lips graze yours when he speaks, “I want to taste you.”

“Fuck.” He might just be able to feel the new rush of wetness dampening your panties further and smearing around his hard below you. His hands push your hips up his body. He told you what he wants, and he’s showing you exactly how he wants it. “Are you sure? I don’t want to crush your skull.”

“I wouldn’t mind that, at least I’d die happy.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that if you want it.”

The chuckle he lets out reverberates from his chest up through your whole body. There’s not much you can do besides complying with his wants, especially with the way your body’s reacting to the sole idea of it and the way he’s moving you to where he wants.

His hands sneak under the strings of your underwear, and as you climb higher and higher, he removes them easily, leaving you bare on top of him.

“You’re so wet, shit.” Your pussy pulsates just above his face. You can’t see his reaction, but you for sure can hear it, “I would’ve done this sooner if I knew this was waiting for me.”

From your point of view, his whole face is covered, by you, on top of him, only his messy hair laying on the mattress can be seen. A view that’s dizzying and hypnotic at the same time, and you can’t think of any answer to give him. His breath on your wet core makes you shiver, but you’re afraid to sit down, afraid you’ll hurt him.

Mingyu senses your hesitation and gives you no more time to doubt. His head rises until his tongue meets your folds, flattening on you, desperate to make you feel good. The sudden stimulation makes your legs tremble, and you would've fell on his face if it wasn’t from his hands still holding your hips.

He starts making out with your cunt, moaning and groaning against it like this is also pleasurable for him. His tongue finds every place that makes you gasp, moan and whimper, and with every lap at your folds, a nasty wet sound accompanies it.

A shaky moan escapes out of you when he envelops your clit with his lips and sucks lightly, making you grab the headboard so you don’t fall on him.

You must’ve fully sit on his mouth in your search for support, because he moans louder against your pussy, and you can feel everything. His lips and tongue working to drink every drop of arousal that leaves you, discovering every sensitive spot you didn’t know about.

The tip of his nose bumps your clit just as his tongue finds its way inside your pulsing hole, and you instinctively move your hand down to pull at his hair. The action encourages him to go faster, harder, and when you grind on his face and he groans like he’s enjoying it, you let go.

Riding him, chasing your high, you’re using his tongue for your own pleasure. Your hand on his hair tightens, and you lose the little control you had of your throat. But the unfiltered sounds you make just push him harder. Every one of your senses is clouded. The wet sounds, the way he moans against you, his tongue already knowing where to go to make you squirm, everything culminates without warning.

You cum on his tongue faster than you have ever before. Your thighs tremble at either side of his head, and you realize you’re crushing him between them. But he doesn't let you get up. His tongue continues to work on you,

He cleans you up, drinking every last drop of arousal smeared on your skin. You spasm over him every time he –not so accidentally– flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, starting to get you overstimulated.

You use the strength you have left to push his head back, and take advantage of his surprise to plop down on his side, your back on the mattress and your pussy finally away of his eager mouth.

“Are you okay?”

From the corner of your eye, while you try to recover, you see Mingyu doing his best to clean the lower side of his face.

“Yeah, fuck, that was a lot.” You manage to say in between breaths. “I need a second.”

“If you’re too tired, we can st- fuck.”

You don’t give time to overthink, quickly getting on top of him again, your swollen dripping cunt right on top of his still hard cock.

“Second's over.” Only a little smirk is the warning he gets before you’re grinding on top of him again. All of your juices mix as you slowly ride back and forth, his length sliding between your wet folds deliciously. “I’m clean, and on the pill, are you?”

“On the pill? Unfortunately not.” How he manages to make you laugh even on your horniest moments will forever remain a mystery. “But I’m clean, I’ve never had sex without a condom before.”

“Me neither. I guess this will be a new experience for the both of us.” The sole thought of it makes his dick twitch under you.

“Are you sure?” His hand cups the side of your face, and his eyes look at you with such care that you could melt in an instant.

“Yes, I don’t want to wait anymore. We’ve waited long enough.” That seems to relax him, his hands beginning to roam freely across your torso.

Sliding forward makes the veins of his cock drag along every sensitive spot and you both moan before his tip finally prods at your entrance. A loud hiss comes out of him as you align yourself with his length and push his tip in.

But before you can go any further, he wraps his arms around your waist and turns you around so your back is against the mattress. You gasp at the sudden change, and when he starts slowly sinking into you, filling every possible space inside you, you lose your breath.

His cock being covered by your fluids makes it easier, and when he finally bottoms out, so deep you feel him everywhere, you hear him trying to muffle a moan. Your gummy walls clamp around him, trying to get used to his size. The twitch of his length feels stronger while inside you, and you know he’s trying to resist the urge to pound into you.

“Move, please, I need you.” Your pathetic whimper triggers another smirk out of him, and as he moves down to give you a soft kiss, his eyes darken.

“Whatever my girl wants.”

The slow drag of his cock as he starts sliding it out almost make you delirious, but before his tip slips out, he snaps his full length right back in, making your body jolt upwards. You can't speak properly, a curse you can’t even hear leaves your mouth before he repeats the action, again and again.

“So deep, Mingyu, fuck.” The brutal pace he sets has him abusing every single sensitive spot inside you, even the ones you didn’t know about, hitting relentlessly where it makes you scream, and you’re seeing stars.

“You don’t say my name often,” his voice is raspy and deep, almost mirroring the way his cock pistons inside of you, “I like how it sounds coming out of you."

Your palms are against the headboard and you’re sure the bed hitting against the wall can be heard from other rooms, but when one of his hands sneak between your bodies and starts circling your clit, you stop caring all along.

The grinding of your hips matches his rhythm, accentuating everything as he drives you closer and closer. With his face just above yours, you can only look him in the eyes and let him watch your face contort in pleasure feeling every vein of his cock dragging inside of you. With any other person, you would be self-conscious, but as he finds that spot inside you that makes you squirm, you forget the world around you and focus on grabbing his strong arms for support.

His teeth find your neck again, biting and kissing on your soft skin, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and he doesn’t stop drilling his hips into you. Somehow, you feel him deeper with every thrust, and the only thing you can do is claw your nails on his arms and back, encouraging him more and more.

“You’re so tight, shit.” His hips stutter when you clench hearing his voice. “Tell me you’re close, please, fuck, I don’t now how long I got."

“Yes! Yes, don’t stop.” You tighten impossibly harder around him when you feel him pinch one of your nipples. He’s literally everywhere, stimulating every spot to tip you over the edge.

Your arms and legs cage his body so close to yours that he has trouble keeping up with his pace, but that doesn't stop him from pounding hard. The sound of skin your skin hitting against his and his groans are like music to your ears.

It's when his thumb teases your clit again that you finally snap.

You tremble around him, moaning uncontrollably as he keeps pounding into you, prolonging your orgasm as he pleases and chasing his own. But he’s far gone too. Your sweet moans in his ear and your walls clenching around him so perfectly are enough to have him spilling inside you.

Sleepiness is about to get you when you feel him sliding out you and plopping by your side. Naturally, one of his arms slots under you as your head rests on the crook of his neck.

There’s silence while you both catch your breaths, his hand softly drawing circles on your back and yours on his chest. As reality sinks in, giddiness fills your entire body, and you can’t contain the smile growing against his golden skin.

“Did you do any embarrassing things back then?” The sudden interrogation makes your cheeks turn red.

“I’m guessing there’s no way out of this, right?” You avoid looking up at him to not make your shyness obvious, and you feel him shake his head as an answer. “Fine… you know… your fangs?”

“My fangs?!” Amusement and surprise mix on his voice.

“Fuck this is so embarrassing.” You’re caged between his arms but you manage to cover your face with your hands.

“You liked my fangs?”

“I still do, but yeah, I would just draw little fangs everywhere, I guess no one ever noticed because they looked more like vamp–"

“Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” He luckily interrupts your embarrassing rant with his pending question.

“Already? You want to see me again that badly?” You feel the chuckle on his chest before you hear it, and at that moment, it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard.

“I plan on taking you on dates at least three times a week. You’re never getting rid of me now.” He embraces you in his arms, chests flushed together, and when you tilt your head up, he’s already looking at you, expectant for your answer. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes, I would love to have dinner with you tomorrow.” The smile he gives you might be the most blinding smile you’ve ever seen. “But just so you know, I do not have sex on first dates.”

thank you so much for reading♥♥ sorry this took so long to finish

[madamechrissy]

Endless Summer

Pairings- Yandere! Caleb x F!reader

Summary- You are staying home from summer break before Senior year of college with your Gran, Josephine, when a huge surprise happens, after over a year of being unable to see Caleb, he comes back to stay. You're so happy, but there's just a couple problems - one, you want him in ways you shouldn't, and you're just starting to get over it with the distance. And two, Caleb is pretty fucking pissed that you have a date, isn't he enough for you!?

Warnings- eventual smut, light angst, taboo relationships, TW- stepcest, mutual pining, yandere Caleb, he's a virgin bc that's canon to me, him being utterly obsessed. This chap - angst and smut oral sex (f receiving) fingering, overstim, squirting, a fuck ton of sexual tension again, hurt feelings, possessiveness, Caleb just torturing himself tbh- WC 7.2k

Comments/Reblogs appreciated if you enjoyy - taglist open <3

<<<Part two - Part four>>> (coming soon)

Part Three

Caleb hardly talks to you the next couple days, he catches up with friends from college, and you hide in your fucking room, lost in your own head. When you two pass each other in the halls, you barely talk to him, he hardly speaks to you, he doesn’t touch you like he usually does, no brushes of his fingers, no playful touches. He doesn’t linger his gaze on you anymore.

The times you missed him so badly and would treasure these visits that get less and less frequent, only for a simple moment to make everything so difficult. You didn’t want him to stop, you wanted him to do more, fuck you’d have lost your virginity right in the damn car if he let you. But you couldn’t admit the simple truth, the words that terrify you.

That you love him, way differently than you should, and maybe it’s always fucking been that way - maybe you always loved him too much.

It’s awkward still, a couple days later when Gran has left to go shop with her friends at yard sales, she does it every other Sunday. And Caleb is making toast, shirtless, you have to look at that perfectly sculpted back, the dimples at the bottom of it on either side. He looks back at you, his side profile just far too fucking sexy in the soft filtering light of the morning.

God and you’re staring at his ass!

You hate yourself more lately.

“Morning,” he doesn’t say pips, he doesn’t say honey. He hasn’t since the car, when he touched you. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit, he used to make you breakfast, but the tension is clear in his tense muscles. “Um, I’ll make some eggs.”

“I’ll make you some,” you both go to grab the fridge at the same time, his hand over yours then, and you pause, looking at it. Strong and calloused, rough hands that addle your fucking mind, before looking into those eyes, like a sunset glimmering. “You know I cook better than you.”

“Are we talking now?” You ask softly, he glares, hand tightening.

“You’re the one avoiding me.”

“You’re the one… leaving me on… read.”

“What message did you send?”

“Not what I mean,” you shake your head, letting go now, but his hand is still over yours, his body is so close, you inhale that clean scent he has, the fresh shower bouncing off his skin. “I’m just tired. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, are ya not sleeping well?” He touches your dark circles with a cool thumb, cupping your face, and it takes everything not to just beg him to kiss you, fuck to do more.

“I’m not sleeping well,” your words are quiet, eyes fluttering shut. “That feels good.”

He swallows, continuing the gentle cool brushes under your eyes, as his fingers cradle your face like it’s precious - it is precious to Caleb, all of you is, every pretty part of your body. Not just that either, god your energy surrounding him, your very being that he missed so much, and he knows he’s going to be moving so far away, when the fuck would he get to see you again, hold you?

“Should I help you sleep tonight, I can… count airplanes to a hundred, you remember when I used to?” You giggle then, smiling and looking up at him, so precious you make his heart ache impossible more.

“I do remember that. I’d never make it to a hundred, did you count all that way?” He pulls back a bit, smiling.

“I did, you always passed out at fifty.”

“Your voice was so soothing,” you clear your throat now, looking at the fridge and bending down, grabbing the eggs out, brushing against him damn near. He barely handles the fucking motion, trembling as you do. “You can make em.”

“Smart girl.” You both fall into a comfortable silence, you finish the toast and slather it with butter, then pour him his favorite apple juice. It feels too fucking domestic, every bit of you both, how could you ever experience this with someone else in the future?

How would you ever be comfortable like with him, he’s seen you at your best and your worst, he’s the closest person to you. Part of you wants to shove these nagging thoughts back and just enjoy him until he leaves, the other part wants more than you fucking should. Far, far too much.

“You’re so quiet around me,” his words are soft, you hand him a piece of toast and smile then. “You okay?”

“We should um… spend time doing something fun together. Before you go, just the two of us.” He smiles then, his lashes lowering, taking a sip of the juice you poured now, adams apple bobbing.

“Let’s do it, what do you wanna go do? Amusement park?”

“Oh gosh, maybe the beach or something? I don’t know about rides!”

“You’re suuch a baby.”

“Hey!” It’s perfect then, until he gently brushes a drop of juice off your chin, and you both freeze at the damn contact.

How can you act normal when his touches make you want to straddle him!?

You are flushed then, so flushed he frowns, touching your cheek. “You’re warm, you feeling okay?”

“Too much sun lately.”

“But you want more?”

“Yes! While you’re here.” He nods then, and soon he’s driving you in his car, the tops down, it’s blissful. Him watching your hair fly back so fucking pretty, your beautiful smile on your face, those big sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose.

He wants to take a million pictures of you, to keep forever.

It’s perfect as you two set up your things, as you both run into the water and are laughing, Caleb knows you can’t swim for shit so he’s got you on his back as he steps deeper. The sun is shining as you sigh, snuggling up close to him, warming both of your skin, your one arm is wrapped around his neck as the other hand gently brushes his chest.

“It’s perfect here, let’s just stay,” you murmur softly, lips pressed against his ear as you rest your chin, he smiles back at you, little streaks of blond already in his hair showing through the thick chocolate strands. “I’ll become a fish.”

“You’d be a terrible fish,” he says, laughing now. “Can’t swim!”

“Well maybe I could if I was one!”

“You’d be a washed up mermaid.”

“Hey!” You’re both laughing, feeling the ease of each other’s company, when he’s carrying you back you both see your friends again, they’re both talking each of your ears off.

The boy you’ve been talking to on and off is with the group, but you avoid him. How can you even go near someone when Caleb will always have your heart like this? You’re sitting alone, listening to your music as the waves lap on the sure, pretty birds flying over you, when Caleb comes to sit next to you on the laid out beach towel. He’s dripping wet still, droplets undulating across his abdomen.

He leans on an elbow, laying on his side and studying you carefully, his eyes filled with something you can’t describe. “Now you’re quiet.”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He brushes the damp strands of hair back, his other hand dangerously close to your thigh now, you shift closer, like his gravity is just pulling you towards him, breath caught in your throat. “That bathing suit… it looks so…”

He trails off, you blush a bit, pretending it’s the sun, as his hand hesitates, fingers tracing the air across your thigh, terrified to cross that line, especially in public. Thinking of anyone saying bad things about you would infuriate him, he could never let you handle something like it.

And what would they say?

Caleb didn’t care, not for him, but you’re too fucking important, the best friend he’s ever have, the closest to him. So his hand eases back, as you let that breath you’ve held go, he closes his mouth, not finishing his words. “It looks so…”

“Good, pip squeak.”

He smiles, sitting up now, you feel him again, pulling the fuck away from you. You bite back your frustration, looking out at the beach again and hugging your knees. You’re so beautiful like that, if Caleb could paint anything in his life it would be you right now, how the wind blows your hair, how your skin looks from the glow of the sun.

Why can’t he say it?

“Do you want me to count those airplanes tonight?” He teases, and you shake your head now, earning his frown. “No?”

“I’m good on my own,” your words kill him then, he can see you slipping further, despite his hope that today could be a reconciliation. But everything is too raw and exposed. “But thank you.”

“Yeah, all grown up I know.” He playfully ruffles your hair, playing his role - fuck he’s tired of it.

*****

It’s storming again, despite the beautiful sunny day, as you lay alone in your bed, shutting your eyes and picturing him, the memories of all those nights You’d come in his room, and he always would rub your hair, count those planes, as the storms would rage outside. You remember when you stopped being afraid of the storms, when they stopped bothering you.

But you still came to him.

Why wouldn’t you, when he feels like home?

You toss and turn, the blanket a tangled mess in your quiet room, as the storm gets louder, echoing with patters along the window, you hear the wind howling, the tree branches scratching the side of the house. The noises drive you fucking insane, you can’t sleep, especially with the thoughts swirling in your mind over and over, memories and fresh fantasies intertwining.

You finally throw your blankets off, feet touching the cold floor underneath, tentatively walking step by step, until you reach his room, hand hovering on the knob now. You turn it tentatively, hearing it click, peeking in the room now, seeing him sitting up in the bed, reading with the soft light next to him on. He’s startled when you walk in, shifting a bit.

“Pip squeak, what’re you up this late for?” He sets the book down, and you see he’s shirtless yet again, his silver tags resting against his breast bone, right between those flat nipples. You touch your own without thinking about it, fingers running over the cool metal, tilting your head as you watch him sit up.

“Sorry, the storm… it’s scaring me.” You’re walking over by his bed now, he sighs, looking away, fists clenching.

As if he can handle you in his bed at this point.

“You’re scared?”

“Yes um, maybe you could… let me lay here?” You’re right next to him now, he could reach out and wrap an arm around your hips, kiss up your tummy, feel your skin under his palm.

“Thought you were too grown up now,” Caleb’s words are dark, lightning illuminating his figure on the bed while he lays there and looks at you. The rain is pattering across the window, while you tremble when you see the look on his face, the heat in his eyes, you’re hugging yourself tightly. “Why come here now?”

“Never mind then, sorry I bothered you,” you turn and he’s on you before you get to the door, pressing it shut and gently gripping your wrist, exhaling. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I just…” He trails off, you feel his hard body against you, his fingers brushing your hair back softly, leaving goosebumps along your skin. “I thought you didn’t need me anymore.”

“That’s not it, not at all.” You hold it in, what you want to say, that you need him in different ways, ways that terrify you and make you question everything. Could your relationship ever really work, could you ever be together?

“Then what is it, all mad at me for days. Was it because I… touched you.”

It was because he stopped touching you.

You shake your head, not trusting the words coming out, Caleb tugs you to him, hugging you from behind then, while you shut your eyes, dying at how good he feels, so strong and warm. Your body reacts as much as your heart does, you’ve just missed him so much too, you feel it all as he presses a kiss on your head, it’s something he did at times, but it all feels so different now.

Before you could pretend better, shove it down more, but since he got back you feel like you can’t hold back. You’re standing there as the little popping sound of his sweet pecks hits your ears, the rain still hammering the window as the two of you stand quietly, just the sounds of your breathing filling the room with the back noise of the storms that still scare you.

“It wasn’t that, it’s just… Caleb, I’m still scared of storms,” you say then, and he turns you, warm hands covering your bare arms, sighing. “I learned to be alone but it doesn't mean I want to when you're here.”

“Oh honey,” he feels horrible then, he's been so cold the past couple days to you, to avoid the blatant need. Feeling horrible his control slipped for a moment, but you still want to come to him. “Do you need me?”

You nod quickly, you need him in so many ways, struggling to keep your composure as the need hits. Deep and hungry, forbidden, you can't even let yourself think about it lately. But you will take any of him you can, including being in his arms, stepping closer now, impossibly closer.

“Do you wanna lay in my bed, Pips? I'll rub your hair like you like,” he murmurs, smiling in that heartbreaking way he does. You nod and swallow nervously when he takes you by your wrist, bringing you over to his bed now. He lifts up the blanket for you, and you slip under it, he always does that, he’ll lay on top of them, maybe to be respectful.

You lift the blanket for him before he can lay down, and he pauses at it, before blushing in the dark, as he hesitates. “You’ll get cold.”

“I’m like a space heater,” he doesn’t think he can handle it, being pressed against you with at least the barrier, but he slips under it, leaning on his elbow on one of his plush pillows, brushing your hair back. Your heart hammers at the tender show of affection, his sweet smile. “You still need me I guess. Just a bit.”

“Of course I do,” you’re nuzzling his hand, pressing a kiss there for a moment, your eyes shutting a bit. “Do you ever need me, too?”

What a fucking question, he can hardly process it - he needs you like the fucking air he breathes. His only fault in all of his pilot training and school was his psych evals, because he couldn’t get you off his fucking mind. It was an obsession that was never going away, he didn’t need you to do anything but exist and he was ruined, never thinking anything could be more.

He thought he’d be okay with you moving on, he knew one day you’d date someone, you’re beautiful and young. People love you. He is in love with you, so why wouldn’t other people be? But the truth was he wanted to be selfish, he wanted to keep you to himself, forever, even though it’s not a possibility.

The talks at the pool alone, along with Gran… it just showed the way people perceive the two of you, if only he could just take you all far away, where no one knew you, not this old neighborhood where everyone knows you all so well, the one you two grew up in since the day you met.

“What’s on your mind?” Your words shake him from his thoughts, you’re looking at him with those eyes, the ones that always try to read him and fail.

“Nothing pips,” he’s always lying, he has to. How can he tell you what he really thinks? “Get some rest.”

“Could you um… hold me?” He’s exhaling now, he used to hold you when you were younger, but it’s gotten impossible. But he would do anything for you, so he puts on a brave fake fucking smile, nodding and holding you at an arms length. You scooch back, and he sucks in a breath, the curve of your ass against his cock now.

Fuck.

“Night pips,” he murmurs, arm wrapping your waist now, his thigh against your heat, god why do you have to feel so good? He’s tucking his cock up in the waistpants of his boxers, trying to keep his hips pulled back. He presses his lips against your temple, a hand slipping against your waist. “I’m sorry about the other day.”

“Don’t apologize please.” You shift a bit, brushing against his thigh and gasping at the sensation, you feel Caleb tense then. “Mnh.”

“Maybe… maybe I should… lay on the floor.” He manages, pressing his thigh harder, feeling your soaking cunt on his bare thigh. “Tell me I should.”

“No, I w-want you to hold me,” you’re rolling your hips, needy and desperate, as his hand grips you so tightly, you’re struggling to catch a breath at it, heart hammering when you roll them again. “S-sorry…”

“Don’t apologize either.” His words reassure you, when he lets you spread your thighs, rolling your hips more and more, he’s throbbing as you do. “Was it from that boy?”

“No, Caleb.” You finally answer it, the words releasing softly from your lips, he exhales at that, moaning now, tugging you closer.

“Do you need me to help you?” His hand slips slowly down your tummy, it trembles under his touch, as you look back at him with dilated eyes, biting your lower lip. “Ask me if you need it.”

“I need it, please, Caleb… it hurts.” He’s always taken care of you when you’re hurt, the words plus your cunt drooling on him are enough to almost make him bust against his waistband.

“Ask nice enough I’ll give you anything,,” he’s slipping his fingers lower, now he knows where your little clit is, he brushes it over your shorts. “Hurts here?”

“Y-yes,” you’re whining out so loud he has to cover your mouth, as the reality of what you two are doing hits, and your eyes meet. Your breaths are coming too quickly, when he slips your shorts to the side, finding you soaking wet. Your eyes roll back when he presses on your clit again.

“Shh, please,” he’s lost when he releases your mouth, wanting to see your pretty face, rolling in circles as you keep riding his thigh, gasping. “Faster, slower?”

“Perfect- mnh!” Your head falls back against him, hands gripping his forearms, feeling the muscles and tendons bulge and move as he works you, as you hear the embarrassing wetness squish as it pours.

“God you’re so wet,” he doesn’t think this could be normal, the way your clit twitches, the way your cunt is so wet as he dips a finger in your hole, pulling back his thigh then. “Do you need more?”

“I’ve never… Caleb…” your words are clear, you’re not any more experienced than he is. But he wants to seem capable, he wants to make you feel so fucking good, to make you comfortable. “I play with myself though.”

“You do?” His words are hoarse, you nod quickly, wriggling as his finger tip prods your little hole. “That’s slutty, pips.”

“Don’t you?” You look back at him, cheeks flushed, eyes so glittery when the lightning illuminates the room.

“You’re asking slutty questions too,” he’s curling a finger in your gummy walls, gripping him already, you’re gasping at it. “You like that, is that what you need?”

“More.” Your words are a hoarse whisper, Caleb’s more than eager to give you it, kissing your neck, curling up again at the spot that’s just a little spongy, the one that makes you quiver. “Yes, please.”

“You’re asking so sweetly now, you still need me huh?” You’re nodding, he needs this, you to need him, want him, it’s almost too much, he’s burying his head against your neck, inhaling your scent. “Is this just me helping you out?”

“What do… you want… it to-” There is a huge clap of lightning then, so loud the lights go out, a large boom of thunder.

“Shit,” he pulls back then, as he hears footsteps. “I need to check the breaker, Gran will freak out.”

“Of course.” You pull back, biting your lip again, cursing yourself for not being able to hold back, to control yourself, when you hear Gran’s door open across the hall, and footsteps, calling your names.

The two of you look at each other again, breaths quicker as he takes your hand, and you both realize how close you are to losing it. “I’ll be back.”

He’s grabbing sweats and slipping them on long slim legs, turning on his phone flashlight, as he and Gran softly talk, and you panic, eyeing the slick mess you’ve made down your inner thighs. You don’t just want Caleb to help you, you want him to be with you, but to say it, to do it?

It’s terrifying.

He’s back soon, the soft lights back on, shutting the door carefully and eyeing you, holding a blanket to your chest, right in his bed. Facing Gran when he’d just had his fingers in you was ridiculous, she surely never thought anything about the two of you in bed together, she knows you’re close. But the very nature of your relationship just wasn’t the same.

“I should go to my bed,” you say then, stepping out from the covers, walking by him when he stops you, and your eyes meet.

“I didn’t help you yet,” his words are far too husky, needy, as he steps you until your back is against his door. He locks it with a quiet click that resounds loudly in his bedroom, bending down to cup your cheek. “Don’t you hurt?”

“I can’t ask you to do that, I am sorry I… I shouldn’t…” He’s so close to kissing you, his lips hovering, straight nose brushing yours.

“You don’t want me to make you feel better, pips?”

“Of course I do- but… what’s it… change? For us?” Your words are heavy, your hands on his bare chest, eyeing the muscles there, feeling his heart race under your palm. “I shouldn’t ask that from you.”

“You think I don’t want to help?” You turn away then, hand on the knob, and he tenses, stopping yours with his own.

“I can’t ask it, we can’t… I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not. You’re just needy, you’re wet… you’re so hot…” he’s gripping your chin then, hand back between your thighs, you’re biting back a moan, arching for more of his touch. “I told you I’ll do anything for you, if you just ask me, if you just say what you need.”

His words are desperate, his breath heavy as you roll your hips, pressing for even more of him. “Anything I ask?”

“Anything,” you shut your eyes, exhaling. “I’ll always help you, I will always be here for you.”

You’re so in love you feel sick, thinking of all the ways you’ll never have him. “You’ll leave soon.”

“Yeah, I will, so use me while I’m here.” His words are too much now, you are coming undone as his other hand grips your tit, squishing it gently.

“I wanna cum, please, I’ve only cum by myself.” He moans at that, the thoughts of it just being him igniting his most possessive, toxic feelings, when he turns you back around, sinking to his knees. “C-Caleb?”

“Shh, have to be quiet or I can’t,” he’s slipping your shorts down, your breasts heave with every quick breath, cunt pulsing around nothing as he looks up at you, his soft brown hair falling over his brow. “I’ll make you cum over and over, until you’re satisfied completely, yeah?”

“Caleb um… what’re you…” He’s got your bare pussy in his face soon, moaning as he sees it, just how fucking beautiful it is, and you’re so nervous. “Is it um… you’re seeing all of me.”

“It’s beautiful, you’re perfect.” His words reassure you, when he tugs a thigh over his broad shoulder, looking up at you under his lashes.

“Have you… done this?” You manage to ask, and he pauses, inhaling your sweet cunt, god he’s tasted you already so many times, but from the source?

“Would that make you mad, pips, if I ate someone’s pussy?” You glare now, and he smirks just a bit, raising a brow and tilting his head. “Yeah? Why?”

“It wouldn’t! Of course not, I just meant… I just… it’s something I… Caleb, you’re staring at it.”

“It’s perfect, can’t help it.” He’s pulling your folds apart like he’s studying every part of your little hole, separating the puffy lips then letting them slip back together, glistening wetness dripping across his thumbs. “You’ve only shown me?”

“Yes,” he’s kissing your cunt then, a sweet pop of his lips, you almost scream, covering your mouth with a hand. “Mmm!”

“Shh,” he’s lapping his tongue up your slit, groaning softly as he drinks your nectar, so sweet and perfect against his tongue. He knows it’s wrong to have already tasted you, he knows he shouldn’t have stolen all those panties. Acting a perfect ‘step brother’ when all he wants to do is drink you. “I want you to tell me what you like.”

“I like… all of it…” He smiles a bit, lapping his tongue up again, flicking his tongue on your clit, it’s so good you almost bite your fucking tongue, hips pressing against his face for more. 

“Good girl, ya listenin’ huh?” You’re nodding, helpless as he starts focusing on your clit, as his fingertips brush the slick that's gathered, shoving two of them deep inside of you, you gasp at it, head slamming the door as his tongue works your clit in circles, until you're pulsing around them, drooling. “Aw, you're so messy honey.

He's taunting you as he sucks your clit into his hot mouth, curling his fingers right up, and you can't think of how wrong it is, you can't think of fucking anything but cumming for him. You're biting down on your knuckles as he works you, as you're so soaked your slutty cunt drips onto the hardwood floor as his fingers work you up and down, and the pressure builds.

You’re gripping his locks and tugging, as he loses himself, just diving in and licking every crevice, every inch of your pussy and relishing in it, in the taste of you, in how you feel. He loves every movement and motion of your body, sucking you up and drinking you, his tongue swirling in quick flicks while his fingers find that spot again and target it.

He’s got your head slamming the door harder, you’re lost, screaming weakly into your palm, feeling yourself lost to him, to all the sensations, grinding on his face soon, for him to pull back and moan. “That’s it, use me honey.”

You’re grinding quicker, as he keeps up the pace, honing in on every place that makes you gush, until you finally feel it, the release about to come, his touches are nothing like your own, they’re unlike anything. Your heart hammers in your chest, as the sounds get lewder, the squelching even louder in his room, mixed with his soft whines, as his free hand brushes his own cock.

He’s about to cum from licking you.

“Cum for me, now.” His voice is commanding suddenly, it’s not sweet Caleb, it’s the military officer's voice, and of course you cum, how can’t you?

You’re gushing so much it’s embarassing, the wetness making such a mess he’s struggling to catch it all, cunt pulsing around his thick fingers as you gasp and slam your hands tighter over your mouth. You’re lost, cumming so hard you’re blinded, and when he feels what he’s done, when he sees it, he’s done right with you, ready to have you cumming again and again.

He shocks you by yanking you to the floor, hovering over you now, fingers moving up and down, so much pressure you feel like you’re gonna pee, you’re trying to stop him then, but he’s too far obsessed, shoving your top down. He’s groaning quietly when he sees your perfect breasts, kissing down them, sucking one of your nipples in his hot mouth.

“Caleb, it’s too much,” he’s moving them up and down, hitting that spot in your slick walls over and over, your eyes rolling back, hips raising off the cool wood of the floor he’s thrown you on. “Mnh!”

“Again,” he orders it, putting his own hand over your mouth to muffle your screams as he exhales, feeling your muscles tighten around him again, so strong with the force they try to push him out, your wetness making it slipper. “Again, you can do it can’t you?”

You’re lost, cumming harder, and this time squirting all over Caleb’s hand, he whines out in wonder at it, bending down again, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, you suck them, up and down, the action filthy. He’s spreading your thighs, slurping you up again, hungry and desperate, while you’re tugging at his hair, muffling your moans with gritted teeth.

He’s relentless, he doesn’t stop after the next orgasm, no he’s waited too fucking long for this, for you. He’s drinking every bit like he’ll never get the chance again, until you’re tugging him harder, shaking, twitching. You can’t control your body anymore, it’s a trembling mess under his heavy weight when he finally leans up, easing his fingers out, running them up and down your slit.

His eyes are black, just a purple ring left now, his lips and chin coated and shimmering with you, lips hovering but he doesn’t slam them down, as if to preserve one shred of his sanity. He cups your face carefully, swallowing nervously and studying you in the night, his eyes darting back and forth across your face, as if committing it all to memory.

“Did I help you, honey?” You barely manage a nod, as he tugs you close, burying his face against your neck, your hands grip his waist, slipping up his back, feeling his breaths quicken as your nails press in just a bit. “Do you feel better, does it hurt?”

“I feel so… amazing.” You can’t hold back, kissing his throat, wondering just what the two of you have done. “I’m mad anyone got that.”

“You're so jealous, pips?” He teases, leaning up, shaking his head. “Anything I do with you is special.”

You blink back tears at that, making him frown contemplatively, while two tears slip from the outer corners of your eyes. “You’re special to me.”

“So are you, so special.” He kisses your forehead, sighing. “Come to bed.”

“Okay,” you’re taking his help to stand, he’s careful as he slips up your panties, caring and sweet, like he wasn’t just being filthy, like he still wasn’t coated in your cunt, no like he’s taking care of you. He picks you up, carefully carrying you to the bed, holding you against him.

It’s so beautiful you want to cry.

You can hardly gather what just happened, you can barely process any of your feelings, any of your emotions, while you look up at him in the night. “Sleep,” he’s stroking your hair, sweaty just a bit from the exertions, he can still taste you on his fucking tongue.

“Caleb, don't you want me to make you cum?”

He can’t take it, your sweet little voice, your eyes looking up at him like that. “What’d I say I like to do?”

You’re blushing now. “Please.”

“Yeeep. So shh, lay down, stop wriggling.” You do just that, snuggling up to him and yawning now.

“I don’t want you to go.” Your sleepy words set it all in, just what he’s doing with you, and what it could mean.

“Shh… one airplane, two airplanes,” his voice is a caress as he says the familiar words you remember from when you were younger. Your eyes get heavy, as he trembles internally, imagining the moment he has to let you go, it is foolish to think there can be more, and he’s selfish to have even drank you on that fucking door. “Three airplanes, four airplanes…”

“Mmm,” you snuggle, feeling the soothing touch and hearing his steady heart beat under your palm. His voice echoes, as the orgasms he’d just put you through are wearing you down, but so much is left unspoken. “Five airplanes.”

“You’re counting now?” He laughs, the sound so endearing your heart hurts, you nod and snuggle closer. “Six airplanes, seven airplanes, eight airplanes…”

He keeps going, as the sleep starts to take you, the bliss of the pleasure and all the pent up frustrations being released finally, it’s enough to take you out by plane number thirty. He’s still counting, even as he looks at your beautiful face in the night with the storm subsiding outside.

“You never make it to a hundred,” he kisses your head with a sweet little pop, tenderly running his fingers up and down your back. “I love you.

*****

Today was busy, spending time with Gran, the two of you keeping your distance, the act like you feel like family, when it’s as far from the fucking reality as anything could be anymore. He sneaks looks at you, your collarbone, the way your skirt slips up your thighs, the way your eyes glitter when they catch his. Your sweet, nervous smile, the way your lashes lower.

The two of you put on the act, you always have, why is it so much harder now, because you crossed the line?

You’re pacing your room later, knowing he’s leaving soon, and knowing you need every moment, every part of him. You keep pacing, trying to talk yourself out of it, he didn’t come to your room, you’re going to his again, are you pushing too much on him, being greedy?

You can’t take the thoughts anymore.

Caleb is laying there, eyes shut, remembering every moment so vividly, touching his hard cock under the blankets and crying out quietly, wishing he didn’t feel so fucking guilty, so terrible, this torture- the sin he feels. Carrying these feelings for so fucking long - god he loved you when he first laid eyes on you as a kid.

You trusted him implicitly, but all he can think of is putting babies inside you and locking you the fuck away. The neediness makes him stay away, but he’s hurting, his cock throbbing now. He’s sticky against his boxers, sighing as he tugs at them, when suddenly the door opens again.

“Pipsqueak…” Caleb tenses when you walk in his room, you’re wearing one of his shirts like to end him, and now he knows just how sweet your fucking pussy tastes, he’s pulling his hand off, thankful you couldn’t see..

“Let me make you feel good,” you whisper, shutting his door now, he’s shaking his head as you come to the bed slowly, hips swaying as you walk towards him, making him want to grab them. “Why not Caleb?”

He can’t take it, that’s why.

“Do you know what to do?” You shake your head. “Are these just lessons?”

“Is that what you want to call it?” He laughs without humor, brushing your hair back now. “Is that what we have to call it, to feel better about it?”

It’s silent then, he swallows nervously, not knowing what to answer, not knowing what to say. What about when he left, would you go back to that boy, or get a new one to date? Would they please you, and would you forget this? The panic sets in, when you’re touching his length over his sweats, and he’s biting back a moan, gripping your wrist.

“Do you feel bad? Did you feel bad when I drank you?” His words are devastating in their husky, raw feelings, you blush and lower your head now. “Can’t answer? Do you think anyone else could ever make you cum like that?”

“Caleb…” He’s done then, fury blinding him, squeezing your wrist so hard it’s bruising him.

“Get out before I lose it, before you won’t be a fucking virgin anymore, in any of your holes, huh?” You blink in surprise, lips parted, while he cups your face and exhales, shaking his head. “I can’t handle you near me, touching me.”

“What if I want it all?” He glares at you now, hand squeezing so hard it is making your arm tingle with pins and needles.

“You want me to take it, then leave you?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“Pips…”

“You’re hurting me, Caleb.” He pauses, releasing your wrist now, head resting against yours, breaths heavier. “Why wouldn’t I want you as my first? Even if I’m not yours.”

“How do you know that, how are you so fucking sure I’ve been with anyone?” He’s squeezing your face, looking at the lips he still hasn’t kissed. “You keep acting like I have.”

“How couldn’t you have? You’re so handsome, funny, smart… sexy… you’re everything anyone could want.”

“You think all that?” You blush, nodding.

“You’re the best guy I know, and of course you seem… um, talented at things.” You blush furiously now, looking down.

“You think you’ll be okay if I do that, and that’s it? Just experience?” You nod again, but he doesn’t believe you, not one fucking bit. “That’s special.”

“You’re special to me.”

“Fuck…” He kisses you then, for the first time in either of your lives, the feeling so electric you’re dizzy, he pulls back and his breathing is heavy, his eyes drugged.

He wants to finally say it - he’s in love with you.

But is it just the experience you want, is it just trusting him to show you? He’ll take any fucking piece of you there is, even if it’s physical for you, it’s enough to live off the memories of you. The words start and die in his throat as you kiss him back, tongue nervously filling his mouth, tiny and sweet as it flicks along his, he’s groaning, hands entangled in your hair.

He almost does it, almost fucks you, but he pulls back, saliva dripping between each of your mouths, as your eyes lock. If he fucks you no way he stops, no way he keeps quiet, no way he doesn’t put babies in you. No fucking way you don’t go move with him, stay with him forever - as if once would be enough for him!?

“I’m relocating to another country,” he says then, and the words settle, you sit back, eyes glassy as emotions hit. “I got a huge promotion. I have to take it, too, there’s not an option.”

“Another country!?” He looks away now. “You didn’t even tell me?”

“I’m telling you now,” he glares up at you, brows lowered. “You really wanna do this once and then I am that far away?”

“I… how far…”

“Far enough.” He brushes your hair back, sighing. “I wouldn’t be able to just do it once. When I start? I’ll never stop fucking you.”

“Caleb…” He’s kissing you again, and you’re torn, between desire, love, and now panic that he’ll be gone.

“You’ll be graduated, hmm,” he’s kissing you again, exhaling against your lips, eyes catching yours in the dark as his hand tightens at the nape of your neck. “You’ll forget me.”

“I’ll never forget you, how dare you think it.” You speak between your tears, teeth clenched so hard your jaw hurts, shoving at him then.

“Of course you will, and I’d rather you not forget that too.” You stand then, taking a breath, shaking as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You didn’t tell me before, why?”

“I wanted this last week with you to be happy,” he shakes his head now. “I wanted things to be like they were before, when we were each other’s everything.”

“Things are different, what I want it’s…” You can hardly hold back, knowing he’s leaving is so hurtful, he was away a lot, but another country? When would you ever see him again? “How far?”

“Other side of the world,” his words break you further. “I am sure I can still fly out once a year, but is that what we’ll do? I’ll fuck your perfect cunt once a year,” he stands now, bending low over you. “And wonder who else has been inside it?”

You smack him then, he pauses, brushing his cheek as you glare. “And I’ll wonder who you’re with.”

He laughs again, it’s a dark sound, as he desperately grips your face. “You don’t even know me sometimes, do you?”

“You don’t let me Caleb, you’re always hiding! You’re always lying, omitting truths, never sharing how you feel. I think I’m losing my mind and you’re calm.”

“I’m calm!?”

“Always, infuriatingly.” You turn now, swiping your tears away. “I’m just embarrassed I asked it.”

“That’s not-”

“Good night.” You rush out and shut the door quietly, leaving him to palm the old wooden door, swallowing down his own tears.

Fuck he almost had you, he almost was inside your perfect pussy, the one that lingered on his tongue for the day, the one that he’s been dying to be in since he knew what it fucking was. But he turned you down, pissed you off so bad you smacked him, and held back completely - like he always fucking did.

That kiss was so intense he can’t even imagine what fucking you will be like, he can’t fathom it, and can’t fathom being your experience, being just that and leaving, not knowing who will have you. If he at least doesn’t ever feel it, he can shove it down like he used to, before he started getting pieces of you, the taste and hope of more, when it’s impossible.

You’ll finish your degree, you’ll buy a house and follow your dreams, and he’ll be a country away, constantly on missions, worried about you, and not even being able to look forward to coming home to you. What sort of fucking life was that, be without you or be with you and never fully have you?

His fist clenches as he turns back, yanking at his fucking hair, tortured by the need to run after you and the need to hide.

Is he selfish enough to do everything he wants? 

They're frustrating me again </3

tags- @blitziwitch @mcdepressed290 @hyunjifilm @mentaltrouble2201 @aquarianbeat @tartartagliaboo @trishiepo0 @virtualityhome @slytherin-min99 @plzdonutpercieveme @taebvby @jlynns-posts @coralbae @thejujvtsupost @deathrye @tsumoorin @mynsan @lostfracturess @dummiebunny @ashirelle @ilovesugurugeto69 @ilovechanyeol16 @sylusqt @liluvtojineteyam @lunaryasha @maisiefrancesca @ravenbc @straows @callme-amaya @yandereaficionado @wordsgodeep @bandomonia @ellexamor @sukunasunflower @wooasecret @kithyyy @yizhouge @dreamingoftomorrow @sylvieisoffline @whiteghostt @szafficat @lhhlver @sanzy4 @chaoticbardlady99 @mistress-daddy-nyx @pinksaiyans @webshooterrr9 @mynsan @bluerskiees @keylimepiebby

[princesssmars]

dry humping with abby aka car sex 2.0

nsfw, fxf smut. dry humping, boob stuff, scratching and pulling. just quick and freaky.

wc : 1.100

“yeah, just like that baby, fuck- show me how much you want it.”

look, you didn't start the day thinking you'd be dry humping your girlfriend into the driver's seat of her car until you were both breathless, but sometimes things like this just happen.

it was no fault of either of yours, anyway. you were equally dedicated to your studies as you were to each other, even holding hour-long study dates every thrusday that you'd yet to miss in months. but with finals just around the corner, both of you were strung thin, barely having the time to greet each other on the phone, let alone spend some quality time together.

so, of course, that had both of you very pent up. you were both studious, yes, but that didn't mean you didn't rock each other's worlds on the frequent occasion. but for the past three weeks, all you've gotten were rushed moments in the dead of night with your moans shared over a phone, hands aching with the force of your thrusts, and hearts aching at the shared sadness of not having your girlfriend there to soothe the ache for you.

so the second you finish your last final, you truly didn't have only sex on the brain when you told abby to pick you up afterwards, ready to spend the rest of the evening in the comfort of her bed and arms as you caught up over everything else that had happened in your lives recently.

but after stopping for some quick dinner and snacks at a store, you can't pretend to ignore how her large hand rests on your thigh, fingers inching higher and higher the closer she gets to her apartment. all it takes is a flutter of your lashes and a throaty moan before the blonde covers your entire cunt through your panties with her hand. and all it takes is a whimper and a buck of your hips before her other hand is roughly serving the steering wheel, finding an empty parking lot and parking the car near the back, away from the streets and any prying eyes that could witness what was going to happen.

it's rough and fast how she grabs you, unbuckling your seat belt for you and literally picking you up from underneath your thighs and dropping you in her lap, cutting off your surprised cackle with her lips crashing into yours.

“abs, fuck, abby-”

“i know, baby, god, i missed you-” she groans into your mouth, a large palm coming up to the back of your neck, pushing and gripping like she mesh the two of you together is she tries hard enough. it's not like you're any better, hands in a similar position on her bare shoulders and scratching at the freckled skin to draw more whines from her throat.

it's not even a few minutes before the sloppy make-out session isn't enough for you anymore, desperation taking hold as your hips start to grind down into hers, the friction of your jeans pushing into your clit sending pleasurable shocks throughout your entire body. abbys hand travels from your neck down to your chest, squeezing your breast through your shirt while her other hand anchors itself on your hip for leverage as she grinds herself up and into you.

seeing abby below you, writhing and panting as her head drops back onto the seat, adorable blue eyes lidded as they stare up at you on top of her only makes you feel hotter, hands rushing down to tear off your shirt to alleviate the heat and so that she can fully grasp your tits in her hand.

“god, you wanted this to happen, huh?” abby breathes, voice light as she takes notice of your very braless chest.

“says the one about to cum in her pants, ohhhh-” your rebuttal is cut off with a drawn out moan traveling up and out of your throat, head tilting back when abby’s mouth wraps around one of your nipples and starts to bite.

she always reacted when you talked back to her.

it's almost like a challenge to see who can bring the other over faster, with abby continuing her sucking and biting on your chest as you continue to scratch at her arms and pull at her hair. it's when her palm sneaks its way down to your behind and squeezes before giving it a harsh smack that you realize you're close to release, deciding some near-orgasm rambles are just going to have to do the job.

“abby, abby, feels s’ good, you make me feel so fucking good-”

“yeah? you like that, beautiful?” her voice is strained, hips bucking at an angle that you know feels just right on her oh so sensitive clit, her freckles barely visible with the intensity of her flush.

“yeah. missed you, missed your talking, your kisses, your fingers…”

“ohh, shit, nghh- baby…”

using the last bit of un-fucked out intelligence you have left, you wrap a hand around her wrist and yank her hand up to your mouth, keeping eye contact as you envelop two of her thick fingers into your mouth.

“missed having you inside me, absy.”

your shared orgasms are a quick sequence of intense events, abby’s moaning combined with her fingers thrusting deeper into your mouth triggering your own muffled cries as you use that last bit of energy to keep humping until you’re thoroughly satisfied.

when it ends, you're left lying on her chest, bodies at a slightly odd angle as she pushes the seat back as far as she can to make space for you without removing her skin from touching yours. after a minute of catching your breaths, you look up at her with your chin rested on her chest.

“guess we were a little pent up, huh?”

she laughs, a breathy and sweet sound that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “yeah, guess you could say that. someone seemed to enjoy it, though.”

“oh please, my throat is still sore because someone got a little too excited at the end there.”

“oh yeah?”

you don't get a chance to respond before you're somehow being lifted and placed in the backseat of the car, abby’s frame placed above you as her hands rest on either side of your head.

“then it’d only make sense if i made some other parts of your sore then, yeah?”

[junrenjun]

after hours

mark lee x fem!reader x lee donghyuck, frat au

genre: mainly smut tbh

wc: 3.8k

warnings: afab reader, mark and haechan are frat bros, weed (smoking, edibles), unprotected sex (have safe sex plz), threesome, highkey switch!mark and switch!reader i guess, kind of dom!haechan, pretty heavy member x member in this, teensy bit of orgasm denial

The house is just as hot and sticky as you remember it to be. There’s people everywhere and you have to push around to get to the stairs. A pledge sits on the bottom step, eyes glued to his phone. He finally looks up when you approach. “You have to be with a brother to go upstairs, ma’am,” he drawls, boredom clear in his tone. 

“Ma’am? What am I? 30?” you ask him. “And I’m here literally every week.”

He responds without looking back up from his phone. “You still have to be with a brother to get upstairs.”

You’re starting to get impatient now. At this rate, the whole frat is aware of you and Mark’s “weekly weed time” as he calls it. Hell, half of them have participated at one point or another. “I am with a brother. I’m here to see Mark Lee, just like I do every Friday.” 

The pledge looks up at you again, exasperation clear on his face. “The brother has to be present. Like here with you right now.” You’re starting to miss Sungchan and Shotaro. They would never do this to you. 

“Well the brother I’m here to see is probably as high as balls in his room right now…” you say, trying your best to sneak past him. 

He puts an arm out and braces it against the wall to stop you. Your movements halt. “He still has to be here,” he informs you, annoyed. 

“Oh my god,” you raise your voice a bit. “Where is Taeyong?” you mumble to yourself, knowing the President himself would be able to get you out of this predicament. 

As you fish through your hoodie pocket to find your phone, a voice from the top of the stairs calls your name. There stands Lee Donghyuck, leaning casually over the railing, a solo cup in his hand and a smirk on his face. “What are you doing down there baby?” You shiver at the nickname. 

You shoot a pointed look toward the man on the last stair, who is now looking up toward the upperclassman. “I’m waiting for one of you fuckers to come find me, since your own pledge won’t let me upstairs.”

Donghyuck lets out a “tsk” sound, shaking his head at the younger boy. “C’mon man. She’s here every week, you should recognize her by now. And let her up, she’s with me.”

Surprisingly, the pledge doesn’t let you go right away. “She said she was here for Mark,” he informs his brother.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, leisurely strolling down the stairs. Once he reaches the bottom, he pushes the pledge’s arm out of the way with his foot. “Well she’s here for me too. Right baby?” You nod. “Go tell Sungchan to take over stair duty tonight for you, since you can’t seem to do your job right.” The boy nods hurriedly and scurries off. 

He smirks down at you, hand reaching to wrap around your waist. Leading you up the stairs, his  fingers brush lightly against the bare skin that shows when your hoodie pulls up a bit. It sends electric shocks down your spine. “Tell Johnny that the next pledge task should be to brush up on the frequent flyers list,” you mumble to him.

He simply laughs in response. “I can do that.” Once you reach the top, his hand moves from your waist to the small of your back, leading you through the crowded hallway. Finally you reach a door that you have become all too familiar with lately. A green street sign reading “Lee Lane” stares back at you. You still have yet to hear the story of how they obtained it. They refuse to tell you. 

Donghyuck reaches out and opens the door for you, slightly bowing. “My lady,” he says in an awful recreation of a posh accent. You roll your eyes and step through the entryway. You’re immediately greeted by 5 familiar faces and a cloudy haze of smoke. 

Jeno and Jaemin are slouched over each other on the couch, a little too handsy for what should be considered just friends. Nothing atypical there. Chenle and Jisung are sitting at Donghyuck’s desk, the taller man attempting to play some sort of game while the other eggs him on. Mark is lounging on his bed, blunt in one hand, phone in the other. “Where’s Renjun?” you pout once you notice the blonde man’s absence. 

You feel a familiar hand wrap around your waist once again. “He’s got an essay due at 11:59,” Chenle responds, not looking up from where his eyes are glued to the monitor. 

“Damn,” you reply. “Really wanted one of his edibles tonight.” With that, Mark leans down, starting to rummage around in the drawer of his nightstand, passing the blunt to Jeno in the meantime. Once he finds what he’s looking for, he raises his head, a dopey smile on his face. He waves a little plastic bag around excitedly. 

All of a sudden, the smile drops from his face. His eyes are zeroed in on the hand circling your waist. “Hey!” he whines, grabbing Hyuck’s attention. “I thought I said no touching. She’s my weed partner not yours!” Mark and Donghyuck usually have no problem sharing you, so you suppose this little comment is meant to keep up appearances in front of their friends.

The hand reluctantly leaves your side and Donghyuck crosses the room to jump up onto his own bed. “She’s half the frat’s weed partner at this point, man!” He dramatically falls to his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. 

“True that!” Jaemin raises his head to shout from his spot on the couch. He looks…blasted to say the least. It’s clear his head is spinning from the sudden movement. After a moment, he just says, “woah” and tucks his head back into Jeno’s chest, who hums in delight. 

Mark captures your attention once again, patting the spot on the bed next to him. You jump up and join him. He offers the plastic bag to you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Got this just for you.”

You reach for the bag excitedly, only for him to pull away from you cruelly at the last second. “Mark,” you pout at him, a frown on your face.

He simply laughs, leaning down to put his lips on the shell of your ear. “Gimme a kiss first, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes at his antics. A year ago, you would’ve choked on your own saliva hearing those words. Now, they’re like second nature to you. Leaning over the side of the bed, you pluck the blunt out of Jeno’s hand. The man in question hands it over easily, moving to pick Jaemin up and take him back to their own room. 

Turning back toward Mark, you take a hit, leaning close with your hands on his shoulders, and then exhale. He inhales the smoke, his own lips inches from yours. When he finishes the shotgun, he presses a small kiss to the side of your mouth. “Thanks baby,” he whispers. 

“Hey!” Hyuck calls out. When you turn, his eyes are locked on you and Mark. “Calling her baby is my thing!” 

A groan is heard from the opposite end of the room. “Can’t you three get a room?” Chenle asks exasperatedly. 

“We’re in our room,” Mark says in the most deadpan way he can muster. It’s not all that serious, the high leaving hints of that dopey smile on his face. It’s enough to work on Chenle though, because seconds later he’s turning the PC off and dragging Jisung out of the room by the collar of his shirt. 

As the door is shut once again, Donghyuck hops down from his bed, moving to lock it. “Finally some peace and quiet,” he mutters once he completes his task. You giggle a little at the statement. You’re not quite sure it truly qualifies as peace and quiet if you can still hear the loud music and voices from downstairs. 

The man moves once again, but this time approaches Mark’s bed, tossing himself dramatically on the end and taking the blunt out of your hand. While he occupies himself with getting even higher, you turn your attention to the man next to you. “Can I get that edible now, Markie?”

He must have been lost in thought, because your words seem to startle him. Finally, recognition sparks in his eyes once he realizes what you mean. “Oh, yeah,” he mutters, handing the plastic bag to you. 

You take it from him and unzip it, popping the gummy into your mouth. It’s strawberry flavored, one of your known favorites. You practically moan at the taste. “God, Renjun deserves some fucking head for this,” you say. 

Donghyuck snorts from his place at the end of the bed, eyes dazed but looking right at you. “Nah,” he shakes his head. “Mark deserves the head if anything. He practically got on his knees to beg Renjun to save one for you.” 

You look over at Mark to gauge his reaction. He has his head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed with his face tilted slightly toward the ceiling. His hand has drifted down to your thigh, fingertips running lightly over the bare skin where your shorts end. There’s no reaction evident on his face. It’s likely that he’s completely zoned out, unaware of the conversation taking place before him. 

“That can be negotiated,” you finally say, swinging one of your legs around so that you end up straddling his lap. The sudden movement pulls him from his daydream, his head dropping to look you in the eyes. You’re hovering slightly above him, not yet giving him the pleasure of your weight on top of him.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Whatcha doing pretty girl?” His hands move to rest lightly on top of your hips. 

You lower yourself a little bit more, your skin brushing against his sweatpants. “Hyuck said you deserve a reward for bringing me an edible,” you concede. “And I need something to entertain me until it kicks in.”

Mark simply hums in response, his eyes hazy but still somewhat focused on you. You hear shuffling at the end of the bed as Donghyuck moves to put out the blunt. You’re not surprised. Ever since you and Mark invited him to join your little Friday night shenanigans, he’s been keen to be in on the action. Eager to ramp the energy up, you lean in and press a long kiss to Mark’s lips. 

It’s sloppy, especially with the way he’s clearly feeling the effects of his smoke session. You pull back a bit, admiring the way your spit decorates his lips. His eyes look lazily up into yours and you smirk when they flutter close as you grind your hips down. “Fuck,” is all he manages to say as he throws his head back. 

You let yourself get lost in the movement, your own eyes finally closing. However, you’re startled when a pair of hands settle on your waist. Halting your movements, you turn to peek over your shoulder. Donghyuck has settled on his knees in between Mark’s spread legs, his head tipped dangerously close to your neck. The grip on your hips tightens and he whispers, breath tickling the back of your neck. “Don’t stop because of me, pretty.”

When you turn back around, Mark is watching you both, his eyes heavy with desire. His hands grip your thighs relentlessly as the bulge in his pants grows larger by the second. Remembering Hyuck’s words, you grind down on him once again. “Atta girl,” you hear from behind you, and it sends a rush of heat right down to your core. 

Donghyuck controls the pace with the hands on your hips, purposefully teasing both you and Mark. Your ass brushes back against Hyuck’s own erection every few strokes. Meanwhile, the man under you starts letting out breathy moans. The longer it goes on, the more you start to feel the effects of your edible. Your senses heighten and everything feels ten times more pleasurable than if you were sober. 

The hands on your waist start to move up, making quick work of removing your shirt. Donghyuck’s mouth meets the back of your neck as he removes your bra. Mark instantly groans as your chest is freed from the material. He doesn’t waste a second, sitting up as much as he can and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. 

Between him and Hyuck, who is now leaving marks on the junction of your neck, you are not going to last very long. You don’t have to worry though, because Mark suddenly plants a hand on your stomach, pushing himself away from you. You are thrown backwards, falling into Donghyuck’s chest. 

Confused, you look down at the man who is now leaning against the headboard, flushed and panting. “What’s wrong Mark?” you ask, your own voice a little breathless. 

“I…” the man stutters. “I was gonna cum,” he finally admits. 

“Aww,” Hyuck teases. “Was Markie gonna cum just from a little humping and sucking on some titties?” Mark’s face reddens immensely and he visibly swallows, but doesn’t respond. “I think he was…” Donghyuck teases again. “How about that pretty girl? You were gonna make him cum in his pants.”

You understand Mark’s embarrassment. Your own orgasm was not that far away. To be honest, you don’t even know how Donghyuck is coherent enough to be doing all this dirty talk. It seems that both you and Mark are a little too gone for your own good. In more ways than one. 

“So selfish,” Hyuck continues, sliding a hand past the waistband of your shorts. His fingers ghost lightly over the seat of your panties, the wetness spreading uncomfortably. “Leaving our girl all wet and unsatisfied because you can’t restrain yourself.” 

You’ve never seen Mark like this. The flush on his cheeks has spread down his neck and out to his ears. Pupils are blown wide, his chest heaving like he’s catching his breath. You can see his cock jump in pants at Donghyuck’s words. He even whines a little bit. Usually he’s more dominant than this, taking the lead but relinquishing control to Hyuck every once in a while. Tonight, it’s clear that’s not going to happen. You’re intrigued. 

The man behind you taps your clit a few times, drawing you from your thoughts. You breathe out hard. “You want this?” he questions teasingly. He moves his hand a circle, the friction so delicious you have to let out a moan in response. You hear him chuckle into your ear. “Then get naked. Mark too.” 

Mark’s eyes snap forward at the mention of his name. Quickly, he makes work of your shorts, pulling them and your panties down in one swipe. You kick them off onto the floor somewhere. Then, you lean down and yank his shirt over his head. The action tussles his hair, which now falls into his face messily. You don’t take the time to admire it though as you help Mark shimmy his sweatpants and boxers down. It’s awkward and takes a bit of time, but finally, his cock springs free. Your mouth waters at the sight. 

“Good girl,” you hear from behind you before you can move to touch it. Mark’s hips buck up into the air and he whines. “Oh did I forget someone?” Donghyuck teases. Mark nods relentlessly. “Good boy Markie,” he whispers. Yet again, his cock jumps. 

You turn your head over your shoulder, looking for your next instruction. Hyuck clearly wants to be dominant tonight, so you’ll indulge him for Mark’s sake. He must have removed his shirt while you were busy stripping, because you’re met with the sight of his bare chest. You follow his happy trail down to where he has his cock hanging loosely out of his pants. He quirks an eye at your ogling. “You getting eager, pretty?” he asks. You nod. 

“Okay,” he tells you, head raising to look at Mark. “Ride him,” he says, leaning back on his heels lazily. You follow his instructions wordlessly, straddling the boy in front of you once again. You line yourself up with him, preparing for the stretch. A finger running up your spine halts your motions and you shudder. “Uh uh. Face me,” he demands. You hear Mark choke up a bit at the thought. 

Hesitantly, you turn around, resuming your position. Your hands are planted on the bed next to the inside of Mark’s knees, Dongyuck sitting right in front of you. You go to sink down once again, but right before you do, Hyuck grabs your chin harshly and forces you to make eye contact. “Look at me while you fuck him.”

You gulp nervously, but continue to look into his eyes. Finally, you start to sit on Mark’s cock. The second his tip enters you, he’s moaning loudly. “Holy shit,” he breathes out. His hands grip your hips harshly, like he’s trying to ground himself. Meanwhile, you’re trying so hard to maintain eye contact with Donghyuck. The feeling of being stretched out makes you want to let your eyes roll to the back of your head. He looks back at you in amusement, like he’s getting off on both you and Mark’s struggle. 

“Keep going baby,” Hyuck tells you, leaving no room for argument. You resume your motions once more and Mark is no longer keeping his sounds at bay. The room fills with a cacophony of groans. As you continue your staring contest, you see Donghyuck’s hand move out of the corner of your eye. From what you can tell, he’s started to jerk himself off at the sight of you riding Mark. It takes everything in you to not look down. 

You raise yourself up and down continuously, the pace slow, but not torturous. Mark is clearly loving it, from the way you can hear his breathing pick up. “So good,” he slurs, grabbing a handful of your ass. 

“Yeah?” he teases, finally breaking eye contact with you to look back at Mark. “Tell our pretty girl how good she’s making you feel.” 

“So good, Y/N. Making me feel so good baby,” he says, voice cracking at the end of the sentence. You’re too preoccupied to really take his words to heart. You’ve taken the opportunity to let your gaze drift down to Donghyuck’s cock and the way he strokes it casually. There’s an obscene amount of pre-cum beading at the head, dripping down onto Mark’s sheets. You moan at the sight. 

You don’t realize that Hyuck has turned his attention back to you. Suddenly, his fingers are back on your chin, slowly tilting it up. “What did I say about eye contact?” You look up at him through your eyelashes. “Good girl,” he whispers, and you pussy throbs at the praise. Mark must feel it, because he lets out an especially loud groan. 

After a moment, Donghyuck shifts forward a bit, bringing himself closer to you. “Go faster,” he instructs, while his free hand snakes down to rub circles on your clit. You jolt at the feeling, but try your hardest to continue looking him in the eyes. “So sensitive,” he coos while you finally pick up your pace. Between Mark’s cock hitting your sweet spot and Hyuck’s hand brushing roughly against your clit, you feel the pit in your stomach rising. 

You’re not sure if your moans pick up or if Donghyuck just has a sixth sense for you approaching orgasm, but either way, he calls you out. “Gonna cum?” he asks, a sick smile spreading across his face. You nod eagerly. “What about you Markie?” A mumbled yes is heard from behind. 

“Mmm,” Hyuck hums. “Better tell her to get to work then, because neither of you are cumming until I’ve cum.” Your eyes flick down to his cock, and this time he doesn’t scold you for breaking eye contact. You reach out and wrap your hand around him. He shudders a little and sighs. Slowly, you begin pumping him, trying your best to find all the spots that make him tick. You flick your wrist aggressively, your thumb coming up to brush at his tip every few strokes. It’s got him going for sure, but not enough to send him over the edge.

At this point, you’re getting desperate. Mark clearly is too, because he’s egging you on pleadingly, like he’s dying to cum. “C’mon pretty, please get him off. Please.”

Finally, you run your thumb down the vein on the underside of his cock and his hips jerk. Then suddenly, he’s cumming, white spraying over your stomach, onto Mark's legs, and the sheets. You let him come down a bit, his chest heaving and his head thrown back carelessly. Once his eyes flutter open, you do your best to put a pleading look on your face. “Hyuck, please let us cum.” 

He nods wordlessly and you take it as a sign to pick up the pace once more. Mark gasps from behind you and you gasp in response as Donghyuck flicks your clit over and over. Moments later, you’re finally hitting the edge. “I’m cumming,” you announce breathlessly, leaning forward to let your head rest again Hyuck’s chest. 

The pulsations from your orgasm carry Mark to completion too, his cock twitching within your walls and painting them white. He lets out a guttural groan and you moan at the feeling of his cum inside you. As you come down, Hyuck has one hand on the back of your head, rubbing soothing circles into your hair. His other hand does the same thing on Mark’s lower thigh. 

He lets you both recover for a minute before speaking. “I may be high as fuck still, but we might want to sleep in my bed tonight,” he says, looking down to the spot on the sheets where some of Mark’s cum has dripped down to mix with his own. 

“Yeah,” Mark says groggily from behind you. “This is gross.” You tuck your head further into Donghyuck’s chest in embarrassment. 

Mark laughs at your actions. “Why so shy all of a sudden, pretty?” he mocks. 

“You have no room to talk Markie,” you tease back. Donghyuck’s chest rumbles as he laughs at your banter. 

“Okay,” Hyuck finally concedes, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you off Mark. You whine as you become empty, spend dripping out of you. “Let’s get cleaned up. Then we can cuddle,” he declares, carrying you to the attached bathroom. Mark’s footsteps follow behind you. You sigh in contentment, ready to relax with you two favorite boys.

[palevcr]

ACROSS THE LINE

Separated by summer break, Draco Malfoy finds himself suffocating under the weight of pure-blood expectations, pretentious dinners, and the unbearable ache of missing his girlfriend. What starts as a simple late-night phone call quickly turns into something far more intimate—dripping with desperate need, quiet longing, and the kind of filthy, tender words only distance can pull from someone truly obsessed. Wrapped in his jumper and nothing else, she gives him something to hold onto while he sits alone in his family's estate, half-undressed, utterly ruined by the sound of her voice.

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Zabini!reader

genre: long-distance smut, emotional tension, phone sex, rich boy desperation, post-dinner/formalwear fantasy, yearning & intimacy, Hogwarts era (post-term/summer break)

tw: MDNI 18+, explicit sexual content, phone sex, obsession kink, praise kink, possessiveness, dirty talk, masturbation (mutual), formalwear kink, lingerie mention, audio kink, soft dom Draco, emotionally charged smut, unspoken vulnerability, overstimulation, name kink, verbal aftercare, distance intimacy, gentle filth, cocky but desperate Draco, boyfriend is losing his mind without you energy

꩜taglist: @moncher-ire

Summer break had never been something Draco Malfoy looked forward to. In fact, if he were being honest—and he rarely was, at least aloud—it ranked rather high on his list of yearly miseries. The season brought with it a suffocating return to the Manor, where his parents’ expectations pressed in from every direction, cloaked in civility but as oppressive as ever. But this year, summer came with a new torment: the unbearable stretch of time away from her.

Y/N.

Weeks without her voice in his ear, her fingers in his hair, her laugh in the crook of his neck. It was maddening. What was the point of these archaic holidays, anyway? Yes, fine—students needed a break. But there were weekends for that. Long, sluggish weekends he could’ve filled with stolen moments between classes, whispered jokes during study hours, and quiet, aching touches under the library table. Not… this. Not distance. Not silence. Not home.

Still, they found their ways to stay tethered to each other. Daily phone calls and frequent letters—handwritten, sealed with little lipstick kisses and spritzed with the perfume he kept a bottle of just to spray on his pillows. But his favourite part? The Polaroids. She always tucked them inside the folds of parchment like a secret only he was meant to uncover. Some were sweet—her curled up beside Blaise on the sofa, reading or eating ice cream. Others were soft and candid, taken in her room by the golden hour light, face bare and sleepy. And then there were the ones meant only for him: sultry, wicked little pictures of her in delicate lingerie, sheer in places that made his mouth go dry, lace that clung to curves only he was allowed to touch. Some of the pieces he recognized—sets he’d bought her on Hogsmeade weekends with a barely-there smirk and a muttered “You’d look fucking obscene in this.” Others were new, her little surprises. Gifts for him to unwrap with his eyes.

Of course, he returned the favour. Hence why he was currently seated on the edge of his bed, one hand working the settings of his camera while the other tugged irritably at his belt. It refused to cooperate, the leather caught on the buckle, as though even it had grown smug and insufferable with the heat. He’d just returned from some dreadfully dull formal dinner his parents insisted he attend—high collars, stiff cuffs, endless talk of estate matters and foreign policy—and had been about to change when he remembered something she once murmured against his jaw: “You look so fucking good in suits when it’s not the school uniform. It’s criminal, really.”

The memory alone made him smirk and roll his hips subtly against the mattress, imagining how she might react to the image he was trying to take—shirt half-open, tie loose around his neck, slacks low on his hips, that lazy, arrogant smirk on his face that drove her absolutely insane.

He was just about to snap the photo when—

“Draco?”

His mother’s voice, muffled through the heavy oak of his bedroom door, made his head fall back with a soft groan. He exhaled through his nose, equal parts irritated and impatient—half because he’d just finally gotten the belt to give, and half because Narcissa’s timing was, as always, impeccable.

“Yes, Mum?” he called back, his voice just shy of exasperated.

“She’s on the phone. Y/N.”

That was all it took.

He was up in an instant, belt forgotten, shirt still half-undone and hair slightly mussed. He nearly tripped over his shoes in his rush to get out the door, shoulder knocking into the frame as he turned sharply down the hall. Narcissa, watching from the end of the corridor, only shook her head with a quiet, knowing smile, her fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. There was no stopping him now. Her son looked like a man possessed as he bounded up the staircase toward the small library where they took their more ‘private’ calls—though nothing about the look on his face was innocent.

He didn’t care how dishevelled he looked. He didn’t care that he was flushed and slightly sweaty from the summer heat. All that mattered was the sound of her voice waiting for him on the other end of the line.

And Merlin, did he need to hear it.

Draco took the call in the little upstairs library, a room dust-scented and lined with dark walnut shelves that had long since stopped intimidating him. He slammed the door shut behind him without much grace, the sound echoing off the high ceiling. It was less about privacy and more about urgency—a force of habit born from how desperately he wanted to hear her. With his heart still beating a little too fast, he dropped into the worn armchair beside the hearth, the plush leather sighing beneath his weight. He grabbed the receiver like it might vanish if he hesitated too long, already smiling before he even heard her voice.

“Hi,” he said, a single word—but it was saturated with relief, warmth, the kind of soft that only belonged to her.

There was a muffled, slightly exasperated chewing sound on the other end, then her voice crackled through, amused and mouth full. “Why do you sound out of breath, loser?”

He laughed under his breath, his head tilting back against the chair. Even her insults made him feel better. “Because I ran,” he admitted, tone light. “What are you eating?”

“Banana,” she mumbled, and he could practically see her curled up somewhere in her house, phone tucked between her shoulder and ear, chewing lazily. “It’s really good.”

Draco bit his bottom lip, grinning as his fingers idly twisted the Malfoy signet ring around his finger—a nervous habit he only ever seemed to fall into when she had this much power over him. “You sound like you’re enjoying it,” he murmured, voice dipping just low enough to make it obvious what he was implying.

A pause. Then a giggle. “Don’t be nasty, Blondie.”

Her laugh, airy and unbothered, fluttered down the line like sunlight through window blinds, and Draco felt his chest go warm. He chuckled too, a softer sound, more private. That particular nickname had stuck so easily, and though he pretended to hate it, he secretly loved the way it sounded when it came from her mouth—playful, intimate, teasing.

In the background, another voice filtered through—Blaise, predictably loud and unfiltered. “Tell Draco to tell his mother I said hi.”

She groaned audibly. “What’s your obsession with my boyfriend’s mother?” she asked, clearly not expecting a good answer.

“She’s a MILF,” came Blaise’s smug reply, and Draco rolled his eyes, though he was still smiling.

“Is that Blaise?” he asked knowingly, his tone somewhere between amused and long-suffering.

“Yes,” she muttered. “But I’m leaving the room, because he’s being annoying. He’s been in rare form today and I’m not in the mood to babysit.”

Draco smirked as he heard the subtle rustle of movement—her getting up, footsteps moving, a door shutting, the faint echo of silence replacing the background noise. The line felt more intimate now, like she’d slipped away just to be closer to him, even across the miles. He shifted, sinking further into the leather, his free hand resting over his stomach as he stretched out across the armchair, completely at ease now.

“How was your day, baby?” she asked softly, the teasing gone from her voice, replaced with something gentler—sincere curiosity, warmth, affection. The kind of tone people only used when they genuinely wanted to hear the answer.

And just like that, the rest of the world receded. There was no Manor. No expectations. No suffocating formality. Just her voice, wrapping around him like velvet.

“Long,” he said at last, his voice dropping into that familiar, honeyed register he used only for her. “Some unbearably dull dinner. Pretentious beyond belief. Too many names I don’t care to remember—sons of old friends, diplomats, some Ministry official who smelled like brandy and mothballs and spoke like he’d swallowed a textbook on international policy.” He let out a quiet exhale, head tipping to the side against the leather. “My father went on about trade negotiations with a level of enthusiasm I didn’t think he was capable of. And I just sat there the whole time thinking about you—which, for the record, made pretending to be remotely interested an impossible task.”

A soft laugh fluttered through the receiver, that breathy giggle she gave when she was trying not to encourage him but couldn’t help herself. It melted into his ear and settled deep in his chest, loosening something tight and wound.

“You’re such a brat,” she murmured, fond and mildly exasperated.

“I am your brat,” he replied without hesitation, the words rolling off his tongue like second nature. Possessive, indulgent, shameless.

“Yeah, you are.” Her voice curved with a smile, and he could practically see it—the faint tilt of her lips, the warm light in her eyes. The way she probably had her legs curled beneath her, twirling the cord of the phone around her fingers.

There was a pause, then her voice again, inquisitive and laced with mischief. “What did you wear?”

“A suit,” he answered, already grinning at her tone. “Black. Tailored. The one you said made me look, and I quote, ‘unfairly hot for someone that insufferable.’”

She groaned, the sound dramatic but genuine. “You absolutely have to send me a photo. I’ll trade you my soul for it.”

Draco chuckled, low and lazy. “Funny you say that, because that’s exactly what I was trying to do before Mum yelled up the stairs. I had the camera out and everything—was halfway through undressing when she knocked.”

He looked down at himself then and huffed a quiet laugh. His shirt hung completely open, the collar slipping off one shoulder. His belt was still unfastened, the leather ends loose where they had fallen apart, and the top button of his trousers undone, exposing the sharp line of his lower stomach. The heat from earlier lingered under his skin, not from the weather anymore, but from the thought of her.

“Gods, I miss you,” she sighed softly, and it wasn’t playful now. It was quiet, vulnerable, aching.

“I miss you too, darling,” he whispered, the word deliberate, decadent, slipping from his lips like a caress.

“Don’t call me that,” she whispered back, but her voice betrayed her. It trembled just slightly, betraying the way it made her feel.

Draco’s lips curled into a smirk, satisfied and slow, because he knew exactly what that word did to her. She pretended to hate it—darling—but he’d seen the way her breath always caught when he said it low in her ear. How her spine straightened, how her lashes fluttered just before she gave in completely.

“Why not?” he asked, letting his voice dip low again, velvet over gravel. “You go all quiet every time I say it. Almost like you like it.”

She didn’t answer immediately, and that silence—charged and thick and golden—told him more than any words could have.

Draco grinned at the silence on her end, the kind that stretched warm and lingering between two people who knew exactly what was left unsaid. He let it hang for a beat longer before speaking again, softer now, voice dipped in something gentle and indulgent.

“How was your day, my love?”

She sighed, and even that was affectionate, fond. “It was nice, actually. Warm. I stayed outside most of it—sun nearly cooked me, I’m pretty sure I’m two shades darker now, but I’m not complaining. Almost drowned Blaise in the pool though.”

Draco snorted. “Hm. Tragedy,” he murmured with mock solemnity.

“Yeah,” she agreed flatly. “Unfortunately, he lives. For now.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Draco’s throat, and he let his head loll to the side against the chair’s high back, eyes falling shut. The house was quiet around him, shadows flickering softly from the fireplace embers, the world shrinking down to the sound of her voice crackling softly in his ear.

He let the silence draw out again before asking, quieter this time, lower. “What are you wearing?”

A pause. Then, her voice, breathy, quieter than before—intimate. “Just bikini bottoms and your jumper.”

That did something to him. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “Which one?” he whispered, as though saying it too loudly might shatter the image forming in his mind.

“The dark grey one,” she murmured, her voice like silk slipping between his ribs. “The one with your initials stitched on the sleeve.”

Draco’s breath hitched ever so slightly, his hand twitching where it rested low on his abdomen, just above the undone waistband of his slacks. He could picture her now—bare legs curled under her, tanned skin against soft wool, the oversized jumper slipping off one shoulder, the fabric swallowing her frame while her bikini bottoms clung like sin. And the worst part—no, the best part—was knowing she’d worn it on purpose. For him. Not just because it was comfortable, but because it made her feel close to him. Because it smelled like him.

“It’s comfy,” she whispered, almost like a confession. “And it smells like you.”

He hummed low in his chest, the sound half-arousal, half-affection, his voice coming out just above a breath. “Yeah?”

Her answer was quiet. “Yeah.”

Draco’s eyes stayed closed, lashes resting on flushed cheeks as his hand drifted south, fingers brushing against the faint trail of hair below his navel, slipping beneath the loose band of his open trousers.

His voice, when he spoke again, was deeper now—rasped, velvet-wrapped desire. “Tell me more, sweetheart.”

“Well,” she began, her voice so quiet it was nearly a breath, “I like sleeping in it sometimes… because it feels like you’re here. Like you’re right beside me.”

Draco exhaled slowly through his nose, his chest rising and falling with a tightness that had nothing to do with stress. His hand moved lower, pressing against the growing heat beneath the fabric of his boxers, palm slow and deliberate.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice barely audible now, thick with need and affection.

“Yeah,” she breathed, and he could hear the slight tremble at the edges of her words—the vulnerability she rarely let anyone see, the way she let it bloom only for him. “I wear it when I’m alone. At night. In bed. When I’m thinking about you…”

Her voice trailed off, and the silence that followed was heavy with implication, saturated with everything she didn’t need to say. Draco’s hand flexed, fingers curling slightly as he palmed himself harder now, jaw clenched to hold back the sound threatening to escape.

He could picture it vividly—her curled up beneath her sheets, drowning in the soft grey of his jumper, nothing underneath but the skimpy bikini bottoms she’d just mentioned. Her thighs warm and bare, skin flushed, her mouth parted as she thought about him. Maybe her fingers curled in the hem of the jumper. Maybe they wandered lower.

Draco’s voice dropped to a growl, soft and dangerously smooth. “Tell me what you think about, sweetheart. When you’re there, alone… in my jumper. Do you touch yourself?”

He heard her sharp inhale, the kind she only made when she was caught off guard and flustered—but not unwilling. Never unwilling.

“I—” she started, then paused. “Sometimes.”

“Mm.” His eyes fluttered shut again, hips rolling slightly into his hand. “Tell me how.”

There was a stretch of silence on the line, and he could hear the shift of her breathing—deeper now, more deliberate. Her body responding just like his was, despite the distance. It made his entire being ache. He needed her—voice, skin, warmth—all of her. But for now, this would have to do.

“I imagine your hands,” she whispered at last, soft but sure. “On my thighs. Spreading them open. I always start slow… I like to pretend it’s your fingers.”

Draco let out a rough breath, unable to hold it back this time. His hand slipped beneath the waistband, wrapping around himself as his mind spiraled into the imagery she painted so delicately for him.

“Keep going,” he rasped. “I want every fucking detail.”

“I rub myself through my panties,” she whispered, her voice feather-light and breathy, like the words were being pulled from her between shallow inhales. “Imagining it’s your fingers instead of mine.”

Draco’s entire body tensed, a low groan rumbling from deep in his chest as his fist tightened around himself. He heard a soft shuffle through the receiver—fabric shifting, a rustle of sheets or perhaps the hem of his jumper riding higher on her thighs. Then… a sigh. Quiet, delicate, and utterly real.

It wasn’t performative. It wasn’t coy.

It was her.

Touching herself for him.

The sound hit him like a lightning bolt. His hips jolted up into his hand on instinct, a strangled exhale escaping his lips. He could picture it now with devastating clarity—her lying in bed, one hand clutching the phone against her ear, the other slipping beneath the waistband of those tiny bikini bottoms she’d teased him with minutes ago. Legs parted, breath catching, wearing his jumper, his scent all around her while her fingers moved slow and deliberate, just like she imagined his would.

“Fuck,” Draco breathed, letting his head fall back, neck flushed, the tendons straining under the pressure building just beneath his skin. “Say that again. Say it to me while you touch yourself.”

He could hear her breathing shift—heavier now, more shallow, like her heart was racing and her hands were moving.

“I keep the panties on at first,” she whispered, her voice tighter, more strained now, like she was barely holding on. “Because it feels better that way. The fabric’s thin, and I press against it… just a little. Just enough to feel something.”

Draco swore under his breath, eyes fluttering shut, his grip tightening as he stroked himself slowly, matching the rhythm of her voice. He could practically see her—hips rolling into her hand, lower lip caught between her teeth, hair fanned out on her pillow, his jumper slipping down one bare shoulder.

“I imagine your mouth next,” she murmured, and that nearly undid him. “On my neck… and between my thighs. I pretend it’s your voice telling me to spread my legs wider. Your fingers slipping my panties to the side.”

His chest rose and fell in ragged waves, skin flushed and damp with heat. “They’d be soaked,” he muttered darkly, voice strained and low. “Wouldn’t they? Bet they’re already ruined.”

“They are,” she whispered, her breath hitching. “I’m so wet right now, Draco. Just from thinking about you. Touching me. Filling me…”

Draco bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, stifling the groan threatening to spill out. Every word from her mouth pulled him deeper under, further into this slow, torturous fantasy made real by her voice alone.

“Keep going,” he rasped. “I want to hear everything.”

“I miss you so much,” she whimpered, the words barely more than a breath. “I miss you inside me.”

Draco swore under his breath, his head tipping back against the armchair, throat taut, jaw clenched as he tried to keep himself grounded in the moment. Her voice was killing him—in the best possible way. Every shaky syllable, every sigh, every pause laced with want made his body ache with the need to be closer, to be there.

“I miss being inside you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly at the edges, husky and breathless. “Fuck… I miss the way you feel around me. The way you squeeze me when you come. I think about it all the time.”

His hips stuttered into his hand, pleasure tightening like a fist low in his abdomen. He was painfully hard now, leaking into the soft cotton of his boxers, his grip tightening around the length of himself as he listened to her breathe on the other end of the line.

“Are your fingers in you, baby?” he asked, low and slow, each word soaked in longing. “Tell me. I need to know.”

“Yeah,” she exhaled, the word cracking faintly like it had to climb out of her throat. “They’re inside me… it feels good.”

A moan escaped him, quiet but broken, pushed out with a strained breath. His fingers worked faster, matching the rhythm he imagined hers were taking—deep, slow, just enough to tease herself but never enough to satisfy.

“Does it feel as good as when I do it?” he whispered, voice curling like smoke down the line.

There was no hesitation. “No,” she whispered immediately, voice smaller now, desperate and honest. “My fingers… they’re too small.”

That wrecked him. His chest heaved with the weight of it, the sheer need tangled in her confession. The quiet frustration in her tone, the way she longed for his hands—his fingers—made him feel it down to the marrow.

“I know, love,” he breathed, voice trembling with restraint. “You need me to fill you up properly, don’t you? Stretch you open the way you like. God, you always take me so well. So tight and warm… like you’re made for me.”

She moaned softly in response, and the sound shattered what little composure he had left. He gripped the phone tighter with one hand, his other working himself faster now, chasing the image of her—flushed, soaked, squirming in his jumper, fingers buried deep but still not enough.

“I’d be so deep in you right now, baby,” he murmured, eyes fluttering shut. “You’d be crying my name. You always cry for me.”

“Then I’d press down on your stomach,” Draco whispered, voice ragged, each word pulled from the base of his throat like it physically hurt to hold it back. “Feel how deep I am inside you… how far I reach. Feel the bulge where my cock’s buried, stretching you so fucking full.”

His hand moved faster, tighter now, hips bucking up into the rhythm as his imagination blurred into memory—of nights when they lost themselves entirely, when she’d begged him not to stop, when she’d cried his name like a prayer as he filled her again and again.

“You like when I do that, don’t you, baby?” he murmured, the smile audible in his voice—dark, indulgent, possessive.

A whimper slipped through the line—fragile and needy.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” she whispered, breath hitching on the word. “I love it, Draco.”

“Yeah, you do,” he growled softly, hand fisting tighter, his breath coming faster now. “But you love it even more when I fuck you full of my cum. When I stay so deep inside you it has nowhere else to go. I pull out, and it just… drips out of your pretty pussy.”

She whimpered again, this one sharper, more desperate—like she was right on the edge, legs trembling, fingers slipping as she tried to keep up with the filth he was feeding her.

Draco groaned low in his chest, his voice breaking slightly as he imagined it—saw it: her writhing beneath him, flushed and ruined, swollen and leaking with him. The image hit him like a wave, almost unbearable in its clarity.

“But we don’t want to waste it, do we?” he whispered, barely coherent now, the words laced with rough affection and raw hunger. “No. So I just—fuck—I push it back in. Deep. With my cock. Or my fingers. Doesn’t matter. I make sure it stays where it belongs.”

A soft moan escaped him, the kind he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. His hips twitched, stuttering up into his hand, his entire body straining under the tension winding tighter with every second.

“In you. All of it,” he gasped. “Because you’re mine, and that pussy—fuck—it was made to be filled by me.”

The line filled with her ragged breathing, the wet, fragile sounds of her fingers working between her thighs, chasing him, keeping pace with him.

And for a moment, despite the distance, it was like they were tangled together again—lost in each other, breathless, desperate, and utterly undone.

“I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered, breath hitching, voice trembling with the weight of her unraveling.

Draco’s grip tightened instinctively, his voice dropping into something hushed and reverent, the edge of a groan tugging at his words. “You’re gonna cum, baby? Yeah?” His voice was velvet and smoke, coaxing her closer. “Okay, sweetheart… do it for me. Let go. Cum for me. I want to hear you.”

The line was filled with the soft rustle of sheets, a faint creak of the mattress—and Draco knew that sound intimately. He pictured her body arching, back bowed off the bed, her hand buried between her thighs as she came hard, breath caught and trembling. Then it happened—his name. His name, broken and pleading and beautiful, whispered like a prayer from her lips.

That was all it took.

His hand clenched around himself, and he gasped—sharp and guttural—as pleasure ripped through him in a sudden, blinding wave. His eyes rolled back, his head pressing hard into the chair as he came, hips jerking, hot release spilling over his fist and onto the open front of his trousers, a mess he couldn’t even begin to care about. The only thing that existed in that moment was her voice in his ear and the tight, aching bliss that left him shaking.

For a while, neither of them said anything.

The line stayed open, stretching across that invisible thread that connected them, full only with the soft, heavy sound of her breathing slowly returning to normal. It came in waves—sharp exhales turning to soft sighs, like the tide pulling back after crashing against the shore. Draco stayed quiet, one arm flung over his eyes, chest rising and falling in quiet aftershocks, his other hand resting slack and spent on his abdomen.

“I made a mess all over my pants,” he finally muttered with a breathless chuckle, voice still rough from the strain of it. “Completely wrecked myself for you.”

She let out a lazy hum on the other end, her words barely above a sleepy murmur. “Send a picture.”

That made him laugh again—low and warm, his thumb idly tracing the receiver cord like he was still touching her. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Mhm,” she breathed. “It’s your fault.”

And it was—he knew it. She was half-asleep now, probably curled into his jumper, one leg tangled in the blankets, flushed and wrecked and still glowing from the high he’d given her with nothing but his voice.

He smiled, eyes fluttering shut, wishing more than anything he could pull her into his arms and fall asleep with her like that—tangled in warmth, her breath against his throat, the storm of want faded into something quiet and safe.

“I’ll send the photo,” he whispered. “But only if you promise to send me one back. Of you. In my jumper. Looking exactly like you do right now.”

“Deal,” she mumbled, already drifting, her voice barely audible.

And in that silence that followed, full of soft breathing and unspoken affection, Draco realized something that hit deeper than the lust ever could:

He didn’t just want her.

He needed her.

I JUST REALISED I HAVE 300 FOLLOWERS ON HERE OH MY SOUL now what do I do 🌝 bot drop maybe? But like, WITH WHAT SCENARIOS AND WHICH CHARACTERS I’ll give five big booms to whoever gives me an idea

[urlocalfeiner]

why him if not i? | neteyam sully

pairing: neteyam sully x omatikaya!fem! reader

warnings: swearing, jealousy, protective neteyam, mentions of mating, neteyam fighting over you, kissing, fluff

masterlist

neteyam was often jealous when it came to other boys around you, he hated it when other na'vi men would flirt with you or make you smile like he does. no, you and neteyam hadn't expressed your feelings to one another but it was quite obvious with the frequent touching, flirting and always being around each other. most of the clan was waiting upon the day neteyam would announce you were mated- and so were the two of you.

neteyam had been walking through the village when he heard a group of na'vi talking, he was going to just walk past but he stopped when he heard your name being spoken. neteyam thought the group were talking bad about you, and was going to step in and tell them all off for doing so. but as he listened closely to what they were saying, they were in fact not talking bad about you but you being mated with someone, his ears perked up with curiousity as he listened in. "did you hear, y/n and karait have mated." "i know, it's sorta weird. i thought her and neteyam were a thing, obviously not." "y/n and karait are adorable though, i saw him picking flowers for her this morning."

neteyam scrunched up his face, you and karait? mated? there was no way that you and him were mated, you would've told him. neteyam knew better than to believe the words of other people, he walked away from the group in search for you to tell you about the crazy rumours until he was stopped by lo'ak who ran up to him. "bro, have you heard?"

“what?”

“y/n and karait are apparently mated.” lo’ak said, he couldn’t believe it either.

neteyam rolled his eyes, not believing him. “it’s just rumours, y/n would’ve told me.”

“i thought the same thing, right? and then i saw them together and he was like all over her.” lo’ak told him, neteyam felt a pit form in his stomach at his brothers words. “you missed your chance bro.”

neteyam stood there taking it in,“shut up.” he stormed away, he really had missed his chance with you. he waited too long.

the rest of the day neteyam had been in a bad mood, he kept on hearing people in the clan talking about you and your new ‘mate’. to say he was jealous would be an understatement. and he couldn’t help but feel hurt as well, he was almost sure you had reciprocated his feelings. that’s what he got for letting his feelings get in the way. the feeling he got was sickening when he imagined you mating with another, them getting to please you and make you feel loved- it was all suppose to be him.

neteyam was drawing back his bow, ready to take a kill- but all he could think about was you, he wasn’t his usual focused self like he was all the time. he let go of the string letting the arrow fly towards his target, missing. he barely ever misses kills. his father noticed his son’s odd behaviour, taking notice of how his mind seemed to be in another place. “what’s wrong?” jake asked making neteyam turn to him.

“nothing.” he grumbled setting down his bow, his answer so obviously not being the truth.

“sit down.” jake instructed patting the spot next to him on the log.

neteyam did as he was told and sat down next to his father, “now, are you going to tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours, son?”

neteyam’s angry expression turning into one of hurt as his father repeated his question. “i-i don’t even know.” he sighed looking down at his hands, “it’s just…” he paused wondering if he should tell his dad why he was actually upset. “it’s y/n.” he confessed.

jake hummed, knowing the two had feelings did one another. “what about her.”

“she’s been mated with someone else.” it hurt neteyam to even say the words out loud, his heart feeling like it had been clenched. speaking it out loud he felt incredibly stupid, you could mate with whoever you wanted to. he always had a lingering thought in the back of his mind that you may not choose him to be your mate- he just never really considered that it may become true.

jake furrowed his eyebrows, he had not been aware of a new mated pair in the clan. and he- like everyone else- was sure that you and neteyam would become mates. his face softened for his son, feeling bad for the situation at hand. “have you spoken to her about it?”

“no, i don’t know if i can. i’ll look stupid.” he fiddled with his 4 fingers. “and what will it do if i do speak to her about it? it’s not like she’s going to stop being mates with karait.”

jake sighed putting a hand on neteyam’s back comfortly. “there are many other women in the clan to be your mate.”

he gagged internally at the thought, being mates with anyone but you?- no. neteyam ran his hands down his face frustratingly ”there is no other like her though.”

“well, maybe not. but there are many others that would be a great tsahìk and if you have them a chance maybe you could come to like them.” jake was trying to make him feel better, but was doing the opposite.

“no- you don’t get it. i don’t want any other woman in the clan- i want y/n! she’s perfect an-and everything i have ever wanted, she was suppose to be my tsahìk. i-if my mate is not her, then i do not want a one. i’m so stupid, i messed everything up! i waited too long and now she is with a stupid skxawng.” his father was taken aback by neteyam’s sudden out burst, but he got it. neteyam too was surprised by his own burst of emotion. “sorry.” before jake could say something more neteyam got up from the log, grabbing his bow. “i’m going to head back, sorry for wasting your time.”

the trip back was horrible, he was left with only himself and his thoughts- they were mostly about how stupid he was. he was passing through some trees when he heard a laugh that was all to familiar, it always made his heart flutter- it was your laugh. he followed the direct in which it had came from. you were sitting on the grass weaving something, whilst humming a beautiful tune.

neteyam started to move back quietly but stepped on a twig that made a loud snap making your ears perk up- smiling at his presence. “i know you’re there, nete.”

“hi….” he came out of the bushes, revealing himself. you expected him to sit down but he just stood there. looking at you even made his heart hurt, the fact you would never be his.

you looked up at him, “do you want to sit with me?” neteyam nodded slowly sitting down next to to, watching as your hands worked on a basket. you noticed something was off with him the second he sat down, he usually sits close to you- but currently he left a huge gap between the two of you.

a silence fell over the two of you- which you couldn’t decide if it was a comfortable or awkward silence- until neteyam chose to break it by clearly his throat. “so, karait?”

“what about him?” you asked not taking your eyes off the basket, you were curious as to why he was asking about him- you were completely unaware of all the rumours going around about the two of you.

neteyam was getting a bit angry, what did you mean- what about him? he was your mate. you couldn't even tell your best friend. "you know what i mean."

you drew your eyes from the basket to meet his own, "am i suppose to?.." karait was your friend, and if you were being honest you found him kind of annoying. he was always following you around, clinging to you.

neteyam scoffed, shaking his head. "i don't get it- why wouldn't you tell me?" you grew confused, what was he talking about- and why was he getting mad at you? he noticed your confused expression. "don't act like you don't know."

"i don't know what you're talking about, nete" you put the basket down on the ground, removing your hands from it- your full attention now on neteyam.

"what does he do?" he asked, what did karait have that he didn't. "does he treat you good?- does he pick you flowers? is he a good hunter- does he spend lots of time with you- is that it?"

"karait?" oh eywa, did neteyam hate the sound of another's on your tongue.

"yes, him!" it came out harsher then he had intended it to, "what does he have, tell me."

"uh.." you started to grow slightly uncomfortable under neteyam's harsh gaze, you had never seen neteyam raise his voice before- besides when he was shouting at lo'ak. "he's nice, i guess?"

neteyam's jaw clenched, "he's nice, you guess? that's it? he's nice?"

"he's quite good with a bow?" why was he asking so much about karait, you were so confused. "i don't know what you want me to say." you laughed.

"i just want to hear it from you, just tell me the truth. i already know." he was hurt, you were laughing. how were you so unbothered by this, he had everything karait had if not more. why did you choose him, why did you string him along all this time just to go off with another?

"nete, i-"

"what does he have that i don't?" his eyes were filled with hurt and betrayal, and they were directed right at you. "were all those things you told me lies? all the promises you made to me?"

"everything i've told you is the truth. what is going on with you neteyam?" why couldn't he just tell you what he was talking about? had you missed something?

"what's going on with me?- what's going with you?" he took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. "were you trying to spare my feelings, is that why you didn't tell me?"

before you could answer another voice appeared. "y/n!- i knew i would find you here...." karait appeared coming from the same direct neteyam had minutes ago, trailing off as he saw neteyam sitting down with you. he looked between the two of you, he could sense the thick tension between you and neteyam. "uh- sorry, am i interrupting something?.."

"karait-" you were about to tell him to go away, he really couldn't have came at a worse time- could he? he always managed to pop up randomly- it was weird how he knew were you were everyday. before you could tell him to go away though, someone beat you to it.

neteyam's hands formed into a tight fist, jaw clenching tighter at karait's arrival. he stood up angrily, narrowing his eyes dangerously at karait. "yes, you are. you've interrupted a lot actually."

karait looked around confused at neteyam's harsh tone. neteyam looked down to what the na'vi was holding in his hand, flowers- your favourite ones. the ones he always got for you. "look man, i'll just come back later- it's fine." he began to turn around to head back.

"no you're not."

karait stopped, turning back around and met neteyam's gaze. "excuse me?"

your eyes widened, "neteyam." you whispered harshly, to tell him to stop but he ignored you.

neteyam took a step forward, standing tall trying to intimidate karait as he stood taller than him by a couple of inches. "you heard me, you're not going to come back later."

kariat chuckled, "i don't think that's really your decision." he then turned to looked at you. you were still sitting down on the grass, you looked like you were so lost- because you were. "do you want me to come back later, y/n?"

"uh-" for the third time today neteyam cut you off- which you were getting extremely annoyed at- moving to stand in front of you. blocking kariat's view of you, standing protectively. you sighed rolling your eyes- but you would be lying if you said you didn't find him being protective extremely attractive.

"don't talk to her."

kariat smirked as he suddenly realised why neteyam was being like this- he liked you, just like he did. kariat narrowed his eyes not breaking eye contact with neteyam. taking a step forward, as he stood up straight mimicking neteyam's body language. "yeah? what are you gonna do about it- she's not your mate."

neteyam hissed, baring his sharp fangs dangerously at kariat challenging him. kariat hissed back standing his ground. you thought kariat was extremely dumb, challenging turuk maktos son. you stood up quickly off the ground, putting your hand on neteyam's shoulder from behind him trying to pull him back but he didn't budge. "neteyam- what are you doing!" you thought he was just being ridiculous at this point.

"i've got this, y/n." he replied turning to look at you then turned back to kariat, speaking so he could hear him. "gonna show this skxqwng what a real man is." kariat hissed in reply.

"now is not the time to compare dick sizes, nete!" you whisper yelled over his shoulder at him gritting your teeth frustratedly, still trying to pull him back. you came into the forest to peacefully weave a basket for hunting, not to watch two na'vi fight.

"oh yeah? now is the perfect time to." you sighed frustratedly, you knew he wouldn't back down. neteyam was usually not the one to get into fights-but if it involved someone he loved, he wouldn't hesitate to knock some sense into a na'vi.

"don't try and protect him, y/n. this skxqwng is asking for it." kariat spat, you weren't trying to protect neteyam from him. he was one to the best warriors in the clan- if not the best. you were trying to protect him from neteyam, but kariat was the one asking for it now.

"i told you before, don't talk to her!" neteyam growled venom laced through his words, he turned his head slightly to you, his tone completely changing to a soft loving whisper. "go sit down y/n and finish off that beautiful basket, i don't want you getting hurt." you removed your hand hesitantly from his shoulder and slowly moved away picking up your half woven basket and went to go sit down on a log not far away from them.

neteyam watched a you sat down and turned back to kariat, "i know what this is all about, you heard everyone talking didn't you?" kariat smirked at him. "thought i would tell everyone, so i didn't have to when it actually happened."

neteyam's blood boiled, the two of you weren't even mates. he had gotten worked up over nothing and had gotten mad at you, and told everyone you were his. oh, he was gonna get it. with one final hiss neteyam charged at him, throwing a hard punch to kariat's nose making him fall back- neteyam wasn't going to hold back, he had been holding in his anger all day and kariat was going to be the one to get it all.

kariat stumbled back, regaining himself throwing a punch at neteyam, landing on his jaw. neteyam stumbled back and reached up towards his lips swiping one finger across it, looking back down to his finger seeing blood on it. he smirked as he looked back up to kariat who had a bruise forming on his nose already. all of kariats confidence washed away quickly, being replaced with fear as neteyam threw multiple punches at him- landing a hit every single time.

you winced looking at kariat's bloodied face from neteyam's hits, kariat did not look too good. neteyam kneed him in the stomach then threw kariat onto the grass harshly, they were only a few seconds into the fight and kariat already wanted to withdraw from it. neteyam bent down and got right in the na’vis face, “if you even so as go near y/n again, i’ll do worse than this. and you better go back and tell everyone that you and y/n are not mated, understand?” he didn’t responded. “i said, do you understand.”

“ye-yes.”

neteyam was about to hit him again when he felt a hand pulling him back, “okay, that’s enough neteyam. i think you’ve proved your point.” you looked down at kariat who sent you a thankful look. neteyam sighed as he got up sending one last glare at kariat- who pounced up quickly and limped away, scared that neteyam would do more. as soon as he left you turned to neteyam, “okay, now. care to explain to me what just happened?”

“oh uh..” neteyam trailed off, he didn’t really know what to say. “i didn’t like him?”

you gave him a blank look, obviously not believing him. “right.” you shook your head, rolling your eyes. “i’m leaving.” you went to turn around but by a firm grip on your hand.

“he told the whole clan that you two had mated.” your eyes widened in shock, everyone in the clan thought you and kariat were mates? oh eywa. “and- and i was mad and hurt because i…” he trailed off.

“because you?..” you asked softly wanting him to finish off his sentence.

neteyam met your eyes and gulped. “because.. i wanted you to be my mate.” your mouth fell agape, you could feel a smile starting to form on your lips. “i’m sorry for believing everyone and not asking you before and getting mad at you earlier, i should’ve never raised my voice at you. i was just really hurt and jealous that you chose someone else, i know it’s no excuse though and- you can choose whoever you want to be your mate, because you can obviously choose anyone-” he rambled on until you stopped him by crashing your lips on his, he was taken back a bit but quickly returned the kiss. his whole soul had been longing to meet your lips, to kiss every inch of you.

the two of you broke the kiss, neteyam cursed himself for needing to breath- he didn’t want to ever stop kissing you. “for being the smartest person i know you really are dumb aren’t you?” you chuckled, neteyam still speechless from the kiss. “do you really ever think i’d choose anyone over you, nete? it’s always been you.”

he grinned widely like a child who had just had his first clean kill, “can i please kiss you again?”

[cinnamongrl2006]

♱ Knight!Simon Riley x Princess!Reader (part 2) ♱ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

a/n: I'm so, so happy you guys liked part one! I tried my best to do it justice! Thank you all for the kind messages :) Also, should I do knight Jason Todd?? or, or knight John Price? I feel like I should mention I have not played modern warfare in sooo long, like since my ps3 broke (two-ish years ago!!). Ugh I'm so in love with knight Simon Riley!!

contents: a ton of fluff, lil bit of angst (I refuse to make my characters suffer too much, they deserve the world!!), allusion to sex but nothing specific or graphic.

For a couple months your illicit affairs with Simon became more frequent, your love for each other already confessed, feelings running wild like horses.

You'd gotten used to his touch, his fingertips on your cheeks, arms, thighs; his calloused hands so gentle with your soft skin, his touch almost reverent. His lips kissing every freckle and mark on your skin, slowly, as if to memorize them.

♱ Knight!Simon Riley whose heart broke the moment you broke the news to him: you'd been engaged to a prince from a foreign land, he'd come to the castle soon, live with you before the wedding eventually happened. You stood in the yard, under the weeping willow, in your place, when you told him. His mask was off, guard down, rough hands under the fabric of your dress. Your eyebrows knit with worry, tears brimming your eyes as you spoke.

You told him how you loved him and no other, his jaw tight, gaze cold with jealousy, envy of the lucky prince who would not know how to treat you right.

"I promise, Si. I'd marry you in a heartbeat, you know that!" You sobbed into his shirt, tears staining the fabric.

"I know, sweetheart, but we can't." You could hear the pain in his voice.

It had taken him so long to feel such a connection with anyone, and now that he'd found the one he couldn't keep her.

Your daily rendezvous became far more passionate and longer, you'd miss dinner, tell your mother Ghost took you riding— not entirely a lie— that was why your hair was tousled, skirt and tights askew and cheeks flushed red. Your mother just smiled and waved you away, clueless and careless.

You were aware that living in a castle, being next in line to rule, not having to lift a finger ever sounded like a good thing, but God, how you loathed the court. You'd confided in Simon once, told him that you felt out of place, like the black sheep. That you'd love to have an actual family, one that eats meals together, with people that talk to each other, love each other. He dreamt of providing that for you.

The harshness of your situation weighed heavy on Simon's shoulders, you could see it in the way his eyes barely held your gaze anymore, moving to look at the trees, a painting on a wall, the ground. You could feel it in the way he touched you, like he knew he had to let you go, but couldn't: his fingers holding onto your flesh roughly.

♱ Knight!Simon Riley who was surprised (pleasantly so) when a couple weeks later you told him you'd run away with him.

"I've got it all planned out, horses food, an alibi...I swear, we can do it. We have to, before the prince gets here and I get no chance to."

"Honey—" he breathed.

"I mean it, I told the stable boy and a couple of the guards. I had to bribe them, something about sworn loyalty for my father— anyway, we can leave tonight, it's all ready."

Simon would walk through fire just to see your eyes again, he'd jump off a cliff if it meant he'd see you smile; so that night he meets you by the stables, a cloth bag with some of his belongings in it—clothes, weapons, a wad of cash— slung over his shoulder.

You stand by your horse, your dress tied up above your knees for easy mobility, hair down. There's a fire in your eyes he doesn't think he's ever seen before, and it makes the blood in his body rush south, heat pool in his stomach. Your own bag is slung over your shoulder, your foot taps against the floor with urgency.

"Ready?" You mutter, keeping your volume low.

He walked over to you, nodded curtly before he wrapped his arms around you.

"If we do this, there's no turning back." You warned him.

"I've got nothing here, no family, no past. You should be the one thinking about what they're loosing, my love."

"I can't do that. We have to go."

♱ Knight!Simon Riley who feels a sense of pride at how much you trust him, at how you left it all behind— the crown, the court, the comfort, your family, although you'd said time and time again you'd leave them if you could.

♱ Knight!Simon Riley who gets you to a cabin in the woods that belonged to a friend of his, a lumberjack, who no longer used it. He laid you down on the bed, pushed the covers over your body and kissed your forehead before he unpacked your bags and lit a fire on the fireplace. Once he saw fit, he laid down beside you, his arms around your body, his lips pressed to your skin.

He knew the worries would come in the morning, the fear of getting caught, the shame, the tears; and then the relief, that of finally being able to be together and love loudly.

────୨ৎ────

@foxintheferns this is for u my dear!!! and for the anons that asked me to please write a part two lol

Requests are open!!

[sithdaya]

In Your Arms - joaquín x reader fic

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader

Summary: You remember when you first moved in with Joaquín and in the present time, you surprise Joaquín at home after being on vacation. 

Genre: A bit of fluff and smut 

After a delightful two-week escape with your family, you’re back home. It was a nice little getaway, but you had missed Joaquín. The sentiment was mutual, evident from the many videos and pictures he sent daily. You'd get shirtless mirror selfies at the gym with him showing off his physique, a video of him doing a little dance in his Falcon suit after a short mission, a sad puppy face in bed, and selfies of him doing mundane things like getting coffee.

Sam even sent you a video of Joaquín sprawled out on the sofa, passed out. He flipped the camera to himself, grinning as he explained how training had gone that day and how your boyfriend was holding up, then he leaned in with a glint in his eyes.

“So, this little vacation of yours is lasting a long time. You’re coming back, right?”

Sam was only asking because the one topic on Joaquín’s mind was you. Even though it had always been this way, he spoke about you to a greater extent more often when separated. This trip was initially supposed to last three weeks but in a thoughtful gesture to give poor Sam a much-needed respite and you just wanting to be back home, you booked a flight back few days earlier. After retrieving your luggage, you closed the trunk of the Uber driver’s car, checking Joaquín’s location for the hundredth time, and saw that he was at the apartment. 

Years ago, you met Joaquín at a mutual friend’s party at the beginning of high school, and his witty charm won you over instantly. You’ve been dating ever since, navigating life together, especially since he started working with Sam. Only a couple of times have you voiced your opinions about the unpredictability of his schedule, your apprehension, etc. that had led to a few heated discussions. His new role was starkly different from the years he experienced in the Air Force and your worries just heightened even more when he was seriously injured during the fight at the Celestial Island.

Almost a year ago, you can still picture the disappointment etched on your face when he had to call to say that your anniversary dinner would have to be postponed for a later date. The plans you both had anticipated slipped away because of a sudden mission. Yet Joaquín didn’t let that dampen the occasion. In a gesture of grandeur, he had multiple lavish bouquets delivered to the doorstep. With the frequent conversations, you both have regularly offered each other gentle reassurance and Joaquín is undoubtedly grateful for your love and understanding.

As you approach the shared apartment with your key, a familiar Bad Bunny song barely suppressed beats greet you. Fortunately, the understanding neighbors have ceased complaining about the occasional bursts of loud music and other sounds. Another reason you decided to come home ahead of time, was the older couple next door. The Evans were out of state for the week visiting their grandchildren. You chuckle, recalling the morning when Joaquín returned from his workout. It was a week after you both had settled into the new complex.

“Babe?” Joaquín’s voice echoes through the apartment.

You glance at the clock on the bedside table. It’s 9 a.m., and you’re happily nestled back in bed, just about to dive into one of your favorite books—a typical Saturday morning. “I’m still in bed, as one should be this early,” you answer before hearing Joaquín’s footsteps enter the room. You hadn’t been in bed the whole time: you showered and got dressed in fresh pajamas, etc. Peeking over the top of your book, you spot him lounging against the doorframe. He’s wearing a faded tank top that hugs his frame, showcasing the outline of his toned muscles. His gym shorts, a bit frayed at the edges, carry the marks of countless workouts, their once vibrant colors now muted. Nestled on his head is his favorite baseball cap, slightly askew. 

“I’ll stay in bed tomorrow. ¿Qué haces?”

“Just reading.” You lie, your eyes wandering over Joaquín’s figure. He catches you, flashing an innocent smile. So you raise the book, pretending to read but not focusing on the words. “How was your run?” “It was nice until Mr. and Mrs. Evans practically cornered me for a chat. Y’know the sweet but nosey neighbors, who I helped fix the Wi-Fi and set up the Xbox for their grandchildren, who, by the way-”

“Joaquín. What happened?”

You put your book beside you. It was futile attempting to read for the time being when he started talking. You didn’t mind; you love his stories.

“I became embarrassed; that’s what happened. The walls are seemingly thin here, and they pointed out they can hear us…” his sentence trails off, but you finish it for him. “Having sex.” Joaquín’s cheeks start to turn pink, and you can’t help but share in his embarrassment a little as he continues. “Yes. And how it’s okay and all good since we are a young couple in love. They kept going on and on about how they understood because when they first started dating and-” He stopped. “did you know this entire ordeal started just cause I said good morning as they were leaving? I got stuck in a 5-minute ‘conversation’ as I was trying to unlock the door, which was jammed, by the way.” He takes off his hat.

“Pobrecito.” you tease your now smiling boyfriend when he kneels beside the bed.

“I know you want to laugh.”

“Just a bit. It’s a little awkward.”

“I’m never making eye contact with them. Should we move?”

“Oh my God. You are so dramatic. We’re not moving.”

You reach out and ruffle his hair, unable to contain your laughter any longer. He goes in for a kiss, but you put your hand on his face. “Joaquín. You stink. Take a shower.” You take your hand off, and he pouts. 

“Solo un beso.”

“No, you’re all sweaty.”

“That’s never stopped us before.”

Refusing to budge on your statement, you pick your book up.

“Y/N, it’s upside down.”

“Joaquín.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” 

With an exasperated sigh, you flipped your book upright, struggling to focus as rustling filled the air. He rummaged through the closet, pulling out a a fresh set of clothes laying it neatly on the bed along side a fluffy towel. The steady hiss of water from the shower soon followed, punctuated by the soft click of the bathroom door closing behind him. Without missing a beat, Joaquín erupts into an off-key rendition of some song. You couldn’t help but giggle as you tried to immerse yourself back into the world of your book but ultimately failed. While he’s in the shower, you get out of bed, place the book on the shelf and scroll through social media for a few minutes before putting your phone down. When Joaquín exited the bathroom, you glanced up casually. A towel loosely hung on his hips to taunt you with his v-line, and his curly hair was wet from the shower as he hummed another song. He must have felt your eyes on him since he laughed.

“Like what you see?”

“No sé.”

“I think we should kiss now.”

“And I think I’m trying to read my book.”

“Highly doubt that.”

It was hard keeping the smile off your face as he walked toward you. He rolls his eyes before they fall to your lips; he’s right in front of you now. So you repeat Joaquín’s words from earlier to him: “Solo un beso.”

At the sight of that familiar light in his eyes, you smile when he brings his palms to your cheeks and guides you for a long kiss. The warmth radiating from his body envelops you, while the cool drops of water from his curls trickle down your face, adding a refreshing contrast to the moment. After a few seconds, you slide your hands up his chest and begin to pull away when Joaquín brings you back with a harmless and playful bite to the bottom lip. He kisses you more deeply than before. Moments stretch into a couple more lingering seconds until you’re both breathless. “Drop your towel. I need you. Right now.” you whispered, your voice low and inviting. “Yes, ma’am.”

Back in the present, you unlock the door. The soft afternoon light filters through the curtains, glowing warmly on familiar surroundings. The smell of fresh coffee lingers in the air. As your gaze travels across the room, it settles on your boyfriend, seated at his computer, immersed in another world. Joaquín wears a pair of headphones, his fingers dancing across the keyboard, clicking away furiously as he navigates through an intense video game. The Bad Bunny lyrics spill from his lips in a soft mumble as he absentmindedly fidgets with his dog tag. Instead of waiting for him to notice you’ve arrived, you take matters into your own hands and dial his number. His expression shifts from concentration on the game to surprise when he sees you’re calling. With a swift motion, he pulls off his headphones and eagerly reaches for his phone.

“Torres, what game is that?”

“How do you know—”

He looks up and sees you. “Surprised?” you ask before hanging up and putting your phone down. “What the fuck? Estas? When did you—?” He stutters out several beginnings of questions as he rises from his chair, tripping slightly but with the biggest smile on. The surprise is palpable as he rushes to you. “There was this—” He interrupts your sentence by wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up and spinning you around. Laughter bubbles up from within you. You nestle your face in his shoulder and inhale deeply, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne on the soft fabric of his shirt.

It was comforting. It was home.

He laughs as you pepper his face with tender kisses before he sets you down and looks at you like he can’t believe you’re here. Then, the warmth of his lips meets yours, his hands cradling your face, guiding you deeper into the apartment after he closes the door behind you. Your thoughts become lost as Joaquín’s leads you to the bedroom. You can feel his heart beating against yours, his breath hot against your skin, and you realize how much you’ve missed him. His hands take off your shirt and find your hips, pulling you close. The tension between you and Joaquín is electric, each movement and touch filled with anticipation and excitement.

“You’re here,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with relief and aching longing as your hands find their way into his disheveled hair.

“I am,” you breathe back.

“How was your day?” He inquires as you remove his shirt next. “Baby, I don’t want to talk about my day,” you reply lightheartedly as your back touches the cool sheets of the bed. Joaquín crawls on top of you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Damn, was it that rough?” he teases, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Stop talking,” you shoot back, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Alright.” 

Joaquín uses his thumb to pry your mouth open enough to slip his tongue. One of his hands stays holding your face while the other slowly and softly caress down your body, going over your bra, then your stomach, and slipping into your underwear. Joaquín starts slowly, testing the waters. You buck your hips into his hand. “Not yet,” he whispers. His deep, smooth voice does nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. “Y/N. Right now, this is about you. Let me make you feel good. Te quiero.” The only response you give him is a whine, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going. With that, he creates circles over your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely, before dipping in. He revels in the noises you elicit. They’re making him dizzy and disoriented. His head leans back down to kiss your neck, and your hands shakily grab his shoulders.

“You’re doing so good for me, mi amor. Mi reina…"

Joaquín continues to murmur, enticing nicknames and praises into your ear. Everything Joaquín is saying and doing is building your orgasm deep in your belly. Your fingers move in his hair. “Feels so good,” you stutter. “Yeah? Then cum for me. Please, baby.” His words send you over the edge, and a wave of ecstasy washes over you as you fall apart beneath him. Your brows furrowed, and your eyes shut when he removes his fingers. You turn your head to meet his lips when he kisses your cheek, still wanting more. “Fuck me. Please, cariño,” you beg, breath quivering against your boyfriend’s lips, giving another peck. He hums in acknowledgment and reaches for the bedside table, fumbling open the drawer for a condom.

Joaquín’s cheeks are flushed, hair ruffled as you shamelessly gawk at his body. How the hell did you get so lucky? Joaquín is hot as fuck. He presses a kiss into your hair, and you close your eyes as he pushes inside you. You focus on the sensation. The weight and warmth, the feeling of his skin against yours, the coolness of his dog tag. 

“Keep going. Just like that.” you encourage, causing Joaquín to groan against your neck in pleasure. The vibration of the sound flooded across your chest before kissing him deeply with a hunger that matched his own. Soon, he brings you both to a mind-shattering orgasm. Your body quivering with the aftershocks as he pants. Joaquín lies beside you, holding you close and smiling when you kiss his cheek.

“We should clean up.” he eventually says. You nod but don’t move.

“I’ll get you when the shower's warm.”

A/N: idk how to write smut so lol

Anyways, i rediscovered my crush on danny when watching CABNW and immediately started typing this little ficlet (i haven’t written in sooo long) I’ve discovered pinterest and have been staring at pictures of danny daily (as everyone should!) I LOVE HIM SM <3

[aetherraeys]

beneath the surface

sirius black x fem!reader ⊹ 9.6k

cw ⟢ strangers to lovers, fluff, pining!sirius, non-chalant!reader, endless teasing, tension, sirius is quidditch captain, mild Black sibling rivalry, slytherin!reader

summary: you had absolutely no interest in sirius, but for some reason he had loads in you. they say opposites attract but he wasn't sure if you were really so different.

a/n: this took ages for me to write but it was so much fun and i love sirius so so much! let me know if i missed any content warnings and i suck at proofreading.

When you and Sirius were first seen together, sitting next to each other in divination—poor James abandoned—then couped up in the library, people assumed that you were brought together purely for education purposes.

Assumed you had been assigned to keep Sirius at bay almost, and to ensure he wouldn’t fail his next set of exams. The consequences of another awful report for Sirius were world-ending in his opinion. If he failed to bring his grades up he would have to forfeit the next quidditch season, according to madame Hooch, he needed to graduate with credentials outside of sports.

It wasn’t that Sirius was dumb, that was entirely not the case, no, he just didn’t care to study, didn’t care to show up on time, and used quidditch as an excuse to leave classes more frequently than he should have. Really, if he put his mind to it, he was rather brilliant.

And surely, you, a top student, head-girl infact; reserved—indifferent, never seen without a book or a scroll of parchment. You would have absolutely nothing in common with the hard-headed, outlandish, troublesome Black brother. No, you would better be suited to his more refined, quiet younger brother, Regulus.

When you were then seen by the boys’ changing rooms after a quidditch match, potions textbook in one hand, a slightly displeased expression dorning your face, waiting for none other than the captain—some eyebrows were raised. Still, most brushed it off as a tutor waiting for their student, you were rather regimened like that.

Despite all of that, that still wasn’t the reason you and Sirius were being seen together so often.

In the great hall, Sirius sat restlessly—legs bouncing, eyes darting, neck craned towards the entrance then round to where a group of slytherins sat and back and forth, over and over again. Remus finally let out an exasperated sigh, drawing the attention of James, who with a full mouth spluttered, “Something the matter, Rem?”

“Why don’t we ask Sirius?”, if he were still sitting there, all the eyes would have landed on him. But after looking at his watch, as quickly as the words, “m’ late for something—i’ll be back soon,” left his lips, Sirius was gone.

“Where’d ya reckon he’s off too then?”, a small peace of sausage flew out of James’ mouth—grimancing, Remus replied,

“Haven’t a clue mate”.

The next time you were spotted together, it was by none other than Lily Evans, once again in the library researching for her herbology report, she caught Sirius trailing after you, not unlike that of some lovesick puppy.

Because, unbeknownst to the rest of his friends, Sirius had take quite a liking to you. Although initally you were simply placed together in a group, for an ancient ruins project. Now you just couldn’t seem to shake the boy.

Still in her seat, she watched your expression for signs of anything other than indifference. You walked as poised as always, picking and placing books back on the shelf, humming back uninterested at whatever Sirius was saying to you.

Eyes trained forward as the pile of books you began to stack in his arms grew.

Said project had barely finished a week ago, and now Sirius layed spralled across the sofa in the gryffindor common room, staring aimlessly at the ceiling fan, as it spun round and round.

Lily sat cross-legged on the floor resting her back on the chair that Marlene sat in as she receited the ingredients of the potion she was studying. Nudging her foot and nodding over to Sirius, Marlene scoffed,

“Aren’t you going to pick up a book, Black?”

He didn’t break his gaze from the fan, just mumbling, “Yeah I will…later”

Lily shut her book, and sighed dramatically, adding—”I don’t think Sirius has books on his mind right now, Marls”, in a light, knowing voice.

That caught everyone’s attention, including his.

“Ooo, pray tell, Evans.” Marlene leaned forward in her seat, watching as Sirius shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

Lily’s voice adopted a dramatic hushed tone, “I think there’s a particular girl on his mind, aren’t I right Sirius?”.

With that Sirius shot up and off the sofa, suspiciously fast, rushing out an, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She was right.

Sirius had been racking his brain for excuses to see you, trying to find more reasons to be in the library of all places, just to spend a bit more time with you.

Even he was shocked, not only were you a slytherin— he knows they’re not all bad but still.

You had zero interest in quidditch, barely acknowledge him and always had your nose in the most boring of books. And yet, he found himself painfully drawn to you. Intruiged, watching from a far spot in the courtyard as your face cracked a bright smile, your hand coming down on your friends leg as you barked out a laugh.

Eyes glowing and crinkled in amusement—listening carefully to your friend’s recount of what had happened in Transfiguration that morning. Times when you bursted out of this shell, animated and full of life one moment, then stoic and apathetic the next.

At this point, Sirius was going to run late for quidditch practice that he’d scheduled, but he just couldn’t tear away his gaze, your head thrown back, clutching your stomach as your laughter bounced off the pillars of the courtyard. Sirius thought you looked absolutely bewitching.

“Could you be any creepier?”, Regulus voice cut through the moment, dry and unimpressed.

Sirius nearly jumped out of his skin, his head whipping towards his brother with a loud, “Merlin!”

He’d been utterly transfixed by you—the way your laughter softened into breathless giggles, the way your fingers wiped at the corner of your eye where a tear had formed.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Aren’t you going to be late?" he pointed out, arms crossed.

Dragging a hand through his hair. "Quidditch can wait," he shrugged, before his gaze inevitably tried to turn back to you.

Sirius blinked, his expression dropping as his eyes swept the courtyard once more. Just moments ago, you had been right there—laughing, glowing, utterly captivating. And now? Gone. Like a wisp of smoke slipping through his fingers before he even realized he was reaching for it.

Regulus huffed beside him. "Tragic, really," he drawled, already turning on his heel. "Maybe next time you'll spend less time staring and more time speaking."

This time it truly was coincidental.

You sat in the three broomsticks, butter beer in one hand and, as suspected, a book in the other. Today though, Sirius thought you look particularly divine, when not wearing your uniform, you look much less uptight more, you.

Whatever that meant.

He wanted to pay attention that strategies James had devised for the up-coming quidditch games but he couldn’t stop his eyes from flickering back between you and the person who sat across from you in the booth—conveniently out of his view.

James’ sudden huff brought his eyes back, “Were you paying attantion to a word I was saying?”

“I don’t think he was James, he’s been practically drooling over Y/N since we sat down,” Remus didn’t even look up from his pasty as pressed his knife into it.

Sirius felt his jaw tighten, fingers twitching slightly where they rested on the table. It wasn’t the accusation that got to him—he could handle the relentless teasing, the knowing looks. It was the casual way Remus had said your name, like it was something familiar on his tongue.

“Since when are you and Y/N so chummy?” Sirius shot back, trying to keep his voice light, but the sharp edge was impossible to miss.

Remus, finally glancing up, only raised a brow. “Since we both take Astronomy, and I actually talk to people instead of just staring at them across the room.” He cut another piece of his pasty, utterly unbothered.

James snorted. “He’s got you there, mate.”

Sirius wanted to argue, wanted to say I do talk to people—just not when they disappear into thin air the second I look away, but the words stuck. Instead, he only grumbled under his breath and tore a piece off his toast, chewing with far more aggression than necessary.

Now, you were packing up your things, slowly stacking the used plates, neatly placing the utensils in a pile—a hand stuck out handing your bag over to you. Sirius’ eyes squinted, hoping to get a better look, when he saw him.

His brother, his own flesh and blood—but with him, your face looked relaxed, free from the unimpressed expression that it so often had in his presence. Something twisted uncomfortably in Sirius’ chest. He wasn’t sure what it was—annoyance, confusion, maybe even something uglier—but he hated the way you walked so comfortably beside Regulus. Hated the way his brother stood there with your bag in hand, offering it to you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And yet he remained seated, appetite gone, roughly tossing down the toast on to his plate.

Sirius barely registered James and Remus still talking beside him, their voices muffled under the rush of his own thoughts. His legs began to bounce under the table as he watched you and Regulus exchange a few more words—ones he couldn’t hear, which only made it worse—before you laughed softly, shaking your head at something his brother said.

Turning and walking out together.

Sirius’ moping was beginning to grate on both James and Remus. They all knew why he was in such a state, Remus telling him, if it bothers him that much, he should just go and ask his brother why you were there together.

But instead Sirius whined and let his head fall onto the table, narrowly missing the saucer of jam.

“Is he still sulking?”, Lily asked, tucking herself in.

A fed up mmhm, left Marlene in affirmation. Sirius’ head shot up at the sound of your voice from the table infront of them, effortlessly engaged in conversation, for once books nowhere to be seen.

Sirius barely caught what you were saying, too busy zeroing in on the way you smiled mid-sentence, eyes alight with enthusiasm. And worst of all? Sitting beside you, looking perfectly unbothered, was Regulus (and Pandora), though Sirius payed her no mind.

Sirius groaned, slumping back down onto the table with a dramatic thud. “This is actually torture,” he muttered.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, just talk to her.”

“I can’t,” Sirius grumbled, voice muffled against the wood. “What if they’re—” He hesitated, lifting his head just enough to peer over at you and Regulus again. “What if they are?”

James sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. “What if they are what?”

“Together,” Sirius hissed, glaring at his friends like it was their fault he was in this mess.

Remus sighed, thoroughly unimpressed. “And what if they aren’t? You’re spiraling over nothing.”

Marlene leaned her chin into her palm, watching him with amusement. “Or,” she added, “you could grow a pair and go find out.”

Sirius groaned louder, dramatically dragging his hands down his face. But even as he protested, his eyes kept flickering back to you—your soft smile, easy conversation, and the way Regulus seemed perfectly at ease beside you.

Yeah. He was going to lose his mind.

The evening on that same day, Sirius was still distraught, eyes glazing over the same page of his potions textbook for what felt like 100th time. Lily came rushing in a wide grin stretch across her face.

Stationing herself infront of Sirius, she waited from him to look up at her, “You owe me big time, Sirius”.

He blinked up at her, barely registering her words at first. His brain was still stuck on the same miserable loop—Regulus, you, Regulus, you—but Lily’s smug expression was enough to snap him out of it.

“What?” he asked warily, closing his textbook with a dull thud.

Lily wiggled her brows. “I may have happened to find out exactly why Y/N and Regulus were together today.”

Sirius sat up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor. “And?”

Lily folded her arms, basking in the moment. “And you, my dear Sirius, are an absolute idiot.”

“That’s not news, Evans, context—now.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Y/N is tutoring Regulus in Arithmacy.”

Sirius blinked. Then blinked again. That’s it? He opened his mouth, then closed it, as if trying to compute the information. All this time, all this sulking—

Lily smirked at his stunned silence. “He’s ahead in his class, so Y/N is prepping him to join advanced classes.”

He let out a sigh of relief, her hand patting his shoulder as she stood, “That’s not all.”

“I’ve decided to graciously help your cause, and take you as my plus-one to Slughorn’s party on Friday.”

His face scrunched in displease, “Why would I want to go to Slug’s Party? Besides I have to train for quidditch.”

Lily shook her head, question why she bothered to help the boy in the first place. “You really are hopeless, aren’t you?”, her hands now placed on her hips, “Because, Sirius, Y/N is going to be there, and unlike you, I have an actual plan.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “A plan?”

Lily sighed dramatically, as if she were speaking to a particularly dense child. “Yes, a plan. One that involves you actually talking to Y/N instead of sulking and shooting death glares at your own brother across the Great Hall.”

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t shoot death glares.”

Lily gave him a flat look. “Regulus actually asked me today if he’d offended you in some new way. And frankly, he looked delighted about it.”

Sirius scowled. “Smug little git.”

“Exactly. Which is why you need to do something before he catches on that you’ve been acting like a jealous, brooding fool for the past two days.” She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “Besides, Slughorn’s parties are the place for whispered conversations and accidental strolls through the greenhouse.”

He huffed, torn between appreciation and sheer annoyance that Lily had clearly been scheming without him. “And you’re sure Y/N’s going?”

She responded with a light, ”Yup”.

Then Lily shot a very guilty look toward the door before lowering her voice. "I was originally going to take James."

At that exact moment, James’ voice rang from behind her, utterly deadpan. "Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way."

Sirius glanced over Lily’s shoulder to see James standing there, arms crossed, looking entirely unimpressed.

Lily winced. "I’ll make it up to you."

"You’d better," James muttered, though there was an amused glint in his eyes.

Sirius’s mouth opened as another thought hit him. "Wait—what about Regulus?"

Lily tilted her head, looking far too pleased with herself. "Oh, he was invited," she said airily, inspecting her nails. "But he had to decline. Prefect duties, I think."

Sirius blinked. Then, ever so slowly, a grin curled at his lips.

"Well," he drawled, stretching out his arms. "Why didn’t you lead with that?"

By Godric’s graces, Sirius was sat next to you, sweaty palmed barely able to look up from his plate. His tie felt too tight, strangling him, making his throat dry. The chatter of the party buzzed around him, but all he could focus on was you.

There you were—calm, composed, your posture straight, as though you were perfectly content to sit there in silence, only speaking when spoken to, listening without much reaction. It felt like a nightmare and a dream all at once—being so close to you, yet so far out of reach.

How exactly was he supposed to casually strike up coversation, when your expression was so unreadable. He missed the way your face looked when it wasn’t so tightly bound, when it was loose—and carefree. You didn’t fidget, didn’t seem to notice the clinking glasses and hushed conversations at nearby tables.

And of course, as a top student, you were sat on Slughorn’s main table. Among the smartest in Hogwarts, and though he had been steadily working on his grades—again thanks to Lily.

He couldn’t shake how ill-fitted he felt for this event.

He was always so sure of himself—always so confident, a boistrous charm in the way he carried himself. But here, next to you, in the hush of your carefully maintained silence, he felt unsettled. Out of place. Uncharacteristically unsure.

You weren’t unkind, nor were you cold, but there was a deliberate distance in the way you held yourself. Private. Dignified. A quiet sort of control that left no room for unnecessary conversation. You weren’t ignoring him, but you weren’t indulging him either.

Sirius was used to attention, to easy smiles and playful banter, to people leaning in when he spoke. With you, there was none of that.

He just wanted to, for once, be the reason your exterior cracked, to get a glimpse beneath the surface first-hand.

The silence stretched, thick and unbroken. He should have found it uncomfortable. Maybe he did. But something about it—about you—held him there, kept him still when he would have otherwise filled the space with careless words.

And then, you glanced at him, catching his eye. Waiting expectantly, something about the way you looked at him, your gaze neutral but observant—

"Sirius," you said, your voice low, subtle, soft around the edges, catching him off guard. Whispering, “He’s talking to you?”

Lily less graciously clear her throat and parroted Slughorn; “He was saying he thought Regulus was already quite a gifted alchemist. And that maybe you should consider joining him in the advanced potions class”.

There was small snickers as he spluttered out, “Oh! Uh right, well um…I’d love to but um, with the quidditch season starting, I’m not sure what electives I’ll be able to take”, he rubbed his palms forcibly drying them on his trousers.

When his eyes flicked momentarily over, he swore he saw the corners of your lips twitched up into a the smallest of smirks, shaking yorur head in unimpressed amusement. The tips of his ears felt hot, but he couldn’t ignore the sense of satisfaction blooming in his chest—a win, was a win in his books, embarassing as his was.

Slughorn nodded hastily in acknowledgement, “Ah yes…yes! I’ve see you on the pitch, Black. You’re quite the talent.” Seamlessly launching into a speech about ambition, talent, and the bright futures of his carefully selected guests. Sirius barely heard a word of it.

He found his fingertips aimlessly picking at the buttons of his cuffed sleeve, still reeling in his small victory. However minuscule, however brief, it was something. And for Sirius Black, that was enough to keep his spirits lifted, even as he sat in his stiff chair, enduring Slughorn’s endless praise for his star pupils.

Pushing boundaries, wanting to get another reaction out of you. Something more than a smirk, more than that slight shake of your head.

Leaning slightly closer, he dropped his voice just low enough for only you to hear. “Do you reckon Slughorn’s rehearsed this in the mirror? Or does he just feel it in his soul?”

You didn’t look at him immediately, only reaching for your glass with careful ease, as if you were debating whether or not to entertain his comment.

You mimicked his lean in feigned drama, your voice coming out measure and hushed.

“I imagine he does both,” you mused, tilting your head slightly. “Practice ensures confidence, but true passion?”—your eyes met, the glint of jest that he saw was undeniable, “That can’t be faked.”

Sirius blinked, momentarily a small huffed chuckle slipped past his lips. It wasn’t what he’d expected—just enough to match his teasing but just ambiguous enough that he couldn’t tell if you were just playing along or making a genuine observation. Either way, it was enough to disarm him.

He exhaled, feeling his shoulders ease from the tense position they had been locked in all evening, the stiffness melting away before he even realized it had been there. The tight grip he’d had on his own nerves loosened, and he had to fight off the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

For the first time that night, Sirius felt like he had an in.

The mingling had begun, hors d'oeuvre and a variety of other dishes were handed out. You stood with Lily, and your plus-one, Pandora. Lily caught him staring hopelessly at your turned back—called him over with a knowing smirk, her voice cutting through the buzz of conversation. “Sirius, why don’t you join us?”

You turned you attention to him as he walked over, slowly inserting himself, listening—Pandora, who was currently enthusing to you about magical creature care. Her eyes were bright with excitement, hands gesturing animatedly as she described a recent lesson on the behavioral patterns of mooncalves. Lily, equally engaged, nodded along, chiming in with her own thoughts.

Unlike the other two, you weren’t adding much to the conversation, simply holding your glass loosely in one hand, gaze flickering to the room beyond as if your mind was elsewhere.

His eyes drifted lower, catching sight of your near-empty glass, condensation pooling at the edges. Before he could second-guess himself, he stepped closer, angling toward you slightly.

“Would you like another?” His voice was even, polite—none of his usual theatrics, no teasing lilt. Just a simple offer.

Your gaze lifted to meet his, searching his face for a moment before you glanced down at your glass. There was a brief pause, then a small nod. “That would be nice.”

“Any preference?”

You considered for a moment before answering, “Something fruity. Not too sweet.”

You watched as Sirius took your glass with a quiet nod before turning toward the drinks table. For a moment, you considered staying put, letting him bring it back to you, but something about the way the room buzzed with conversation—Lily and Pandora still deep in their discussion—made you move.

Without a word, you stepped away from the group and fell into step beside him. Sirius glanced at you, brows raising slightly, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he adjusted his stride to match yours, the two of you weaving through the crowd in a comfortable silence.

At the drinks table, he reached for an empty glass. “Something fruity, not too sweet,” he murmured, repeating your request as he scanned the selection.

You hummed in affirmation, watching as he carefully poured. Letting a soft, “Thank you,” pass into the air between you.

As you took a sip of your drink, you glanced at Sirius, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “I was expecting to see Lily with James tonight, not you,” you remarked, tilting your head slightly.

Sirius exhaled a small chuckle, swirling the liquid in his glass. “So was James. He was less than pleased when Lily swapped him out for me.”

You hummed, lips pressing together as you nodded. “And yet, you still came.”

Sirius placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “What, you think I can’t enjoy a sophisticated evening of small talk and fine dining?”

You gave him a dry look, unimpressed. “I think you’d rather be anywhere else.”

He gasped—actually gasped—so theatrically that the man standing beside you both at the drinks table glanced over in alarm. “You wound me,” he said, staggering back half a step as if struck. Unfortunately, in his dramatics, he miscalculated his footing, knocking his elbow against a tray of glasses just as the man set them down.

One wobbled, teetering dangerously toward the edge. Instinctively, Sirius shot out a hand to steady it, but the sudden movement caused his own drink to slosh over the rim and down into the sleeve of his shirt. With a twisted expression and he let out a disgusted groan, feeling the cold liquid slide up towards his elbow.

The moment was so ridiculous, so perfectly clumsy despite all his usual effortless bravado, that before you could stop yourself, a laugh escaped you. Not just any laugh, not the superficial, light laugh he had heard from you once before, no, your laugh was full and rolled through the quiet area by the drinks table. Earning a few turned heads.

Sirius looked up sharply, frozen for a moment as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d managed to get such a reaction out of you. Then, slowly, his lips curled as he chucked to himself in disbelief.

You bit back the rest of the laugh that threatened to bark out of you.

You clear you throat, hand coming up to physically stop you from breaking once again. “Sorry, I—,” you stopped yourself, licking your lips as a smile of amusement lingered at the corners of your mouth.

Sirius shook his head, eyes still fixed on you in an almost fascinated way. “Don’t apologise,” he said, voice softer now. “Good to know you’re human.”

You scoffed lightly, raising a brow. “Not everyone is always quite as animated as you, Black.”

His grin turned wolfish as he leaned in ever so slightly. “And yet, here you are, laughing at my misfortune.”

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head as you glanced away, but the atmosphere between you had shifted, lighter now, easier.

The conversation that carried between you was more casual that he’d expected. Finding out that you weren’t quite as anti-social as he’d originally pinned you.

Learning your indifferent silence wasn’t cause by anything other than a preference for meaningful conversation over idle chatter. You spoke when you had something worth saying, and Sirius found himself even more drawn that he was before.

As you became less of a mystery to him, he marked your almost dry, understated wit—one that revealed itself in carefully chosen words and small sarcastic remarks. He stood beside you, soft rings of laughter and chatter resonating, the distance between you closing as the hours shed away.

Perched on a window in the Bell Tower, you admired that stars that were scattered across the sky—he’d also learnt that you had soft spot for Astronomy. Explaining why when he was looking for you in the library, 60% of the time he’d failed. Revealing that you spent more time in the Astronomy tower than anywhere else in the castle.

But speaking about the stars was when you truly came to life, gushing at the high-visibility of the constellations that hung in the sky that night.

“It really is a privilege to seen the sky like this—Look, look there! Can you see it? An hourglass with three stars in the middle.” You leaned forward over the window, pointing earnestly at the stars above.

“Y/N, I have honestly no idea what I’m supposed to be looking at.” Small chuckles littered through his sentence.

Your hands dropped dramatically, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “Sirius, you aren’t even looking in the right place!”, moving to stand impossibly close to him, first guiding his fingers up to point closer to where he should look.

There was still had no reaction, you watched his eyes dart up and down, left and right—brows creasing in efforts to see what you had. Growing impatient and fearful a cloud may steal the precious opportunity away—you reached up, your skin warm and radiating through his cheeks, touch too tender as you angled his chin ever so slightly higher.

Palms lingering on his face, watching—waiting for him to register what was so obvious to you, “Have you found it yet?” Your voice faintly above a whisper, calm and hypnotic.

"Not yet," he murmured, though his voice had lost the usual mischief. You wanted to look back at the stars yourself, so tempted to give up. But he was still looking—still searching, eyes pinched, his lips parted slightly; whispers of his hair dancing over you every so often.

You could see them reflected faintly in the darker silver specks in his eyes, your hands still hadn’t moved from his face, any space between had now vanished entirely, neither of you in any hurry to step away.

Then, just as you opened your mouth to prod at his delay once more, his breath caught, and his gaze finally narrowed, focusing.

“There!”, almost in awe, as if the constellations above had been birthed before him—lips curving up into the biggest beam you think you’d ever seen, so bright it challenged the very stars you beholded.

An incredulous laugh punched through him, his shoulders bouncing, body vibrating against yours. Obviously, Sirius had seen the stars before, and yes, they were beautiful—and until tonight, they were just that, stars—far away orbs charged with fading into the distance.

But in this quiet moment, they felt impossibly closer somehow, and Sirius was suddenly ashamed to have only just noticed them, ignorant to the small pleasures they could hold.

You followed his gaze, to the familiar pinpricks of light shining in the night sky. “About time,” you teased, your voice had lost its edge.

He could hear the smile on your face in your voice, light and airy, bewitching him as the seconds passed, “And if you look at there…jussttt across, that really really bright one,” Now, he could feel your breath skipping over the skin below his ears, goosebumps prickling down the back of his neck. Sirius hummed softly back.

Your hands gently slipped from his face, leaving warmth and wanting in their wake, as your words, the softest of the night—

“That’s you.”

Your voice seemed to echo over and over in his head, unmistakably clear. For a moment, Sirius couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, his heartbeat sounded loud in his ears. Eyes flicking between you and the star.

“That’s me?” he echoed, voice a little quieter than usual, in a hushed tone, afraid of discovery.

You nodded, a small mhmm.

A faint nervous chuckle bubbled in him, still close enough to be gently shook by his vibrations. “Well, you sure know how to make a guy feel important.” Almost laughing at the absurdity of it—

Tearing your eyes away from the sky, the corners crinkling in amusement, this time you didn’t hold back, didn’t cut your laugh short. You threw your head back, moonlight bouncing off the skin of your neck—as a hearty laugh ripped through you. One hand clasping your stomach, muscles beginning to ache, the other finding purchase on his arm. And it seemed that, once you had started, you struggled to stop.

Melodic giggles mixing with his, he couldn’t help but join in—your vibrant and unrestrained joy infectious. His free arm finding your waist, giving you some stability as you leaned into him, breathless.

“What? What—what’s so funny?”, grinning like a fool, his own question punctuated with the laughter bubbling from him.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, there was a softness in your eyes, your fingers still rested lightly against his arm, the proximity making the depths of his stomach flip.

“Merlin,” you breathed, shaking your head as if trying to steady yourself, “You’re actually quite funny, Sirius,” Bodies now resting against the cold stone wall, hands still on each other.

“Glad you think so,” his voice again confident and dripping with teasing sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, but it was accompanied by another smile, turning to pointing at the star.

”That—” you started, but you knew his gaze hadn’t left your face yet; elbowing him lightly before you continued. “That, is the Dog Star, the brightest star in our skies and it’s named Sirius. Gods, you really are something,” words littered with of faux annoyance.

He raised his hands in defeat, another laugh rolling through him, “Now was I meant to know that!”

Quickly leaning into you, fueled by your relaxed smile, he brought his lips mere millimeters from your ear, and you could feel the warm of his body—smell his scent of roasted coffee, warm sandalwood and burnt parchment.

“And I bet that’s your favourite,” just above a whispered tone, painfully smug.

He could feel the shiver that ran down your spine, breath audibly hitching, “Oh, spare me, Black!” failing to fight the twitching smile that wanted to play on your lips.

“My favourites are actually in the hourglass I showed you earlier.”

His eyes glimmered with mischief, watching your expression carefully, “Oh, I totally believe you, Y/N. And what might it be called?” His closeness was disarming, that irritatingly charming, teasing confidence of his—combined with the way he looked down at you with an uncalled for fondness. You couldn’t, didn’t dare look back at him, not until the heat that’d built up and began crawling up your neck simmered down.

“It isn’t just one star, it’s the three that split the hourglass,” picking up one hand from the cold ledge, directing his gaze away from your face—”It’s called Orion’s Belt, apparently because it cuts across the ‘waist’ of the constellation.”

The smirk that spread across Sirius’ face, far too smug and self-satisfied, a snicker slipping in—“Orion’s Belt, huh?” he mused, leaning slightly closer to inspect the stars with you.

Squinting, whipping your head to him, suspicion written all over you face, “Yeah…Why’d you say it like that, though?”

He turned to casually lean his back against the pillar, crossing his arms, keeping his eyes on you, “I didn’t say it like anything?” Playful. Feigning innocence.

“Then why do you look so unbareably pleased with youself?”, mimicking his lean and crossed arms. He enjoyed the skeptical look in your eyes, pushing himself up off the pillar, abruptly closing the space you had so recently put between you.

One hand curved around the rock that framed the window, and the other hand, oh so conveniently placed just above your head; closing in. Eyes helplessly travelling from his face down his neck—he was getting dangerously close now, only now noticing his unbuttoned shirt, chest exposed, and silver necklace dangling away from his skin at the depth of his incline.

Dipping his head down to catch your wandering eye, leaning further—inching closer and closer, holding you captive in his gaze. Leaving barely a fingers space between your lips, deliberately skimming your jaw with the very tip of his nose before stopping by just below your ear.

So close you swore you could hear his pulse, loud and steady, rhythmic. It was torturous, the tips of your ears burned hot, lips pressing into a thin line. He still hadn’t said anything, seconds passed like hours, a breath held so tightly in your chest your shoulders began to raise.

His voice low and breathy—

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

There was nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide; even as he made his retreat he stopped again, hand that once rested on the stone frame, resided precariously in the gap of the wall and your waist. Searching for any signs of protest, or discomfort in your face, he waited at eye-level with an intensity that made your chest stutter its rise and fall pattern.

Sirius tilted his head just slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up in unfiltered amusement, you weren’t going to let him win. Dropping his gaze and letting your eyes drift so obviously down his chest, raising your hands from your side.

Swallowing the scoff that edged that tip of his tongue, as you pulled him in by the collar closer—delicately trailing your fingertips down, down, down. Your eyes were on his again, challenging, teasing, and relishing in his expression. Adam’s apple bobbing as the tips of your thumbs brushed directly against the skin of his chest. Before smoothing over the fabric, looking up at him, innocent, effortless—yet so painfully calculated. You tip-toed slightly to reach his ear, palms now firmly pressed against torso, this time you could feel his heart, thumping, fast and firm.

“I think…”, the whispering presence of your lips against the reddened shell of his ear, smirk deepened when you felt the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. “I think I’m going to bed now, Black.”

And then—just as quickly as you’d drawn him in, you let go, pushing him back with little to no force, he teetered, hand ghosting over where yours had been.

Spinning on your heel, he watched you walking away, not sparing a single glance back.

You heard his voice bouncing off the walls, getting further and further way—“At least let me walk you back!”, Sirius let out a sharp exhale, running a hand through his hair as he fought off the stupid grin tugging at his lips.

“Goodnight, Sirius!” You called back, silhouette fading into the dim corridors of the castle.

His body still hummed with the memory of your fingertips, your voice, that look in your eyes, a laugh bubbling up in his chest only now noticing you’d buttoned up his shirt, he shook his head.

Merlin help him.

When his friends saw him in the Great Hall the next morning, he had a new-found pep in his step. Excessively cheery and energised, just itching to get a glimpse of you again.

“I take it Slug’s party went well then,” Remus remarked, smirking as he sipped on his orange juice. Sirius tried to hide the way his lips wanted to break out into a grin, failing miserably, “What makes you say that?” he chimed.

His friends scoffed at his words, as obvious as his moping and longing were, he also wore his triumphs on his face. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe its the way you’ve smiling like a psycho into your bowl of cereal. Just a guess, though!”, James didn’t even try to disguise his loud snort at Marlene’s comment.

Sirius shrugged, too caught up in his own bliss to pay any attention to what she’d said. He was still flicking looks at the entrance, not entirely sure what he would do when he actually saw you, nevertheless waiting, rather impatiently at this point.

Remus rolled his eyes, setting his glass down with a soft thunk. “It’s almost pathetic, really,” he mused, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “You’d think after all these years, you’d have a little more subtlety.”

Sirius scoffed, finally tearing his gaze away from the doors to flash Remus a cocky grin. “Subtlety is overrated, Moony.”

“Not when you’re staring at the entrance like a lovesick kneazle waiting for its owner to come home,” Lily cut in, settling into the seat next to Marlene. She gave him a pointed look before lazily stirring her tea. “So, are you going to tell us what happened, or are we supposed to sit here and suffer through your dreamy sighs?”

“I don’t sigh,” Sirius argued, but before he could elaborate, James jumped in.

“You do. And, honestly, it’s disturbing.”

Marlene snickered. “And loud.”

Remus hummed. “And frequent.”

Sirius groaned, shoving his spoon into his cereal with a little too much force. “Fine,” he relented, though he hardly looked annoyed, his grin creeping back into place. He let himself sink into the memory of the night before—the way your voice had softened, how your fingers had trailed down his chest, how you had absolutely played him before walking away like it had meant nothing.

It had definitely meant something.

But before he could speak, the conversation around him stilled.

His heart stammered. He didn’t need to turn to know why.

You had finally arrived.

And, just to be cruel, you didn’t acknowledge him right away. No, you were far too composed for that, greeting Pandora with a smile, engaging in brief conversation with Dorcas. Sirius forced himself not to pout—you had to have known he was watching.

Almost in sync, all three of you turned your sights to him, Pandora’s lips pressed into a thin line, containing a laugh, while Dorcas did little to conceal her reaction, both hands coming to her mouth, as if trying to force the spluttering laugh that had escaped back into her mouth.

There it was. That hint of amusement, the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips before looking away again—pretending as if nothing had happened at all.

Sirius let his head drop onto the table, melting with a dramatic groan.

“Oh, yeah,” James laughed, slapping him on the back. “He’s absolutely done for.”

After that morning, you and Sirius had been seen together at a much higher, frequency rate. It started subtly—him waiting for you outside the library after your tutoring sessions, lingering near the Slytherin common room under the pretense of “just passing by.”

Then it became impossible to ignore. Stolen moments in the Astronomy Tower, lying on the floor as you told him stories of the stars, his leather jacket draped lazily over your shoulders on particularly cold nights. Walking up to the Great Hall side by side, bickering about something utterly ridiculous, only to separate seamlessly at the entrance—he to his table, you to yours.

It’s not that that you didn’t like his friends, and it wasn’t that they didn’t notice the shift. Lily’s knowing glances, James’ exaggerated winks, not even meant for you to see, but James wasn’t exactly discrete—still none of it phased you. Your friends had noticed too, they saw the way you’d started to schedule your head-girl duties around his Quidditch meetings so you could ‘coincidentally’ bump into him in the Courtyard.

You still refusing to confirm or deny their suspicions—because you and Sirius were still just friends.

And yet, Sirius Black, the boy who had never carried a single book of his own, had been spotted time and time again with your textbooks in his arms. Slinging your bag over his shoulder like it was second nature, grumbling about how ridiculously heavy it was, but never once handing it back until you were where you needed to be.

And if anyone commented on it, he’d simply shrug, flashing a lazy grin as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“What do you carry in here?” he muttered one afternoon, adjusting the strap over his shoulder. “A dozen bricks? A severed head?”

“Oi, nosy Parker! Do I question what you lug around in that ghastly duffle bag?” you quipped back, lips twitching when he scoffed dramatically.

But more telling than anything was you. Sirius’ presence had breathed life into you, and the more time you spent with him, the more he chipped away at your most guarded parts. The carefree laughs that, before your friendship, were few and far between, corridors now rung with a mix of your vibrant giggles and his howling laughter—on more than one occasion being scolded for disrupting nearby lessons.

“I’m so sorry, Professor, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,”

The door of the classroom barely closed before Sirius grabbed your hand pulling you away, both snickering, trying to run, impossibly faster to keep up, him parroting your empty apology. There was an ease in the way you spoke, a lightness in your voice, even when you hissed out a Sirius in that exasperated, almost always fond tone.

And in turn, you were learning him. The Sirius Black behind the bravado. The one who stayed up far too late studying because he swore he wouldn’t fail another Potions test (though, truly, you were the one keeping him from failing). The one who distracted you during tutoring sessions, doodling on your parchment instead of taking notes.

“You do realise this will not help you pass, yes?” you deadpanned, pointing at the horrendous stick figure he’d drawn.

“I disagree,” he said solemnly. “This is a visual representation of the tragic fate of the gillyweed. Taken too soon.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh.

And then there were the other moments. The ones that left you holding your breath, the air between you taut—thin and the space between you even thinner. His fingers brushing against yours a second too long when he handed back your quill. The times in the back corners of the library when he’d leaned in just close enough that your noses nearly touching, only to reach over your shoulder and pluck a book he didn’t need from the shelf behind you.

And if Sirius hadn’t know any better, he’d think he saw a pout on your lips when he stepped back, “Disappointed, are we?”

To alot of people, you made no sense.

You were put-together, composed, meticulous. Sirius Black was reckless, loud, and endlessly exasperating. But what they didn’t realise—what no one truly saw—was that beneath all of it, you weren’t so different.

By the time you’d made your way into the Great Hall; the usually conjested walkways between the tables were clear, some students still milled about—finishing their breakfasts and making their way out.

You sat, as you always did, with Pandora, Regulus and Dorcas, parchment in one hand and toast in the other. Humming along with the conversations that carried beside you. You’d seen Sirius when you entered, knees resting on the bench as he leaned over the table, huddled amongst his friends and a few faces you didn’t quite recognise.

Sirius was preoccupied.

“—and if I loop around Flint here before he can block, that leaves me wide open to feint left and pass here—” James was rambling at full speed, Quidditch playbook spread across the table, but Sirius was barely paying attention. His eyes kept flickering toward the dwindling crowd, tracking your movements as you slowly gathered your things.

“Uh-huh,” he muttered absently, cutting James off mid-sentence as he abruptly stood.

James blinked. “Mate?”

Sirius ignored him, slipping through the benches and making his way over to you. You didn’t even look surprised when he appeared beside you, just raised a brow as he fell into step next to you.

“Good morning to you, too,” you murmured, adjusting the strap of your bag.

Sirius grinned, keeping pace with you easily. “I had a thought—”

“Oh, Shall I call Madame Pomfrey?”

He huffed, nudging your shoulder lightly. “I think you should come watch me play.”

You hummed, not slowing down. “Quidditch?”

“Yes, Quidditch,” Sirius said, as if there was any other answer. “You know, the most thrilling, heart-pounding, exciting sport at Hogwarts?”

“I have no interest in it.”

His jaw dropped dramatically, stopping in his tracks, face dorned with a look of pure offense. “What! But it’s the first game of the season! Everyone’ll be there!”

Trudging to a stop, you turned to face him, weight shifting onto one hip—arms crossed over your chest. Your lips twitching, the slightest of smirks gracing them before you spun away from him and continued toward the doors. “Exactly, with everyone else there, I’m sure you’ll survive.”

Sirius jogged to catch up, eyes twinkling, his hands on your shoulders, lightly shaking you. “Come on, Y/N, just this once. You wouldn’t want me to lose, would you?”

“That depends,” you mused. “Would you blame your loss on my absence?”

“Absolutely.”

Earning him an eye-roll and a quiet chuckle, even after all this time, he still felt a pang of victory when he was the cause of your smile. Finally, you pushed an exasperated sigh out, shaking your head. “Fine, Black. I’ll come.”

Truthfully, you’d already rescheduled, even post-poning your tutoring sessions so you’d have time to go, simply finding amusement in his grovelling.

His face lit up, “Anndd will you come by the changing rooms after the match? We can go with everyone to Hogsmead after, to celebrate.” His last words came out rushed, a clear after thought, eyebrows still raised into a pleading expression, you didn’t respond immediately.

A feigned debating look on you face, lips pressed into a thin line, foot tapping and an unsure hmmm reaching his ears.

He bent his head down to meet your eyes, always so close but so far away—“I’ll make it worth your while,” he voiced faintly above a whisper. You groaned, head rolling back in playful reluctance, your words came out more pinched than you’d hoped, mumbling out “Maybe…”

Escaping his clutch with a turn of your heel, retreating down the corridor without looking back. Sirius lingered there for a moment, watching you go before he spun around and bolted back to the table.

James barely had time to react before Sirius all but crashed into the bench beside him, looking positively giddy.

“She’s coming,” he announced, practically vibrating.

Marlene snorted. “Poor girl.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Merlin help us if he wins.”

But he wasn’t paying attention. He was already envisioning it—the roar of the crowd, the wind in his hair, the knowledge that you would be there, watching.

Sirius was unnecessarily righteous when it came to his duty as captain, and as much as winning was important to his pride, feeding off the energy that surged around him when he brought his team to a victory.

Now, winning really mattered.

You’d never been to a Quidditch match before, opting to avoid the commotion all together. Frankly, you’d written it off as ‘too violent’, after passing by the hospital wing time and time again—seeing poor Madame Pomfrey overwhelmed with the sheer volume of injured players post-match. Just the idea of watching made you grimance slightly, anxiety lightly brewing in you.

The match had been brutal.

Barely half-way through your voice adopted a coarse and gravelly cadance, suprisingly over-zealous and commited to cheering. A shocked laugh leaving Remus’ mouth, as your voice boomed, travelling rows away.

A grueling hour and a half of hard-fought goals, relentless defense, and a nail-biting chase for the Snitch. But in the end, Gryffindor had come out victorious, and Sirius had played one of his best games yet.

The hope of ‘maybe’, made him dress just that bit faster—fighting the aching tension of his muscles. He was still the last to stide out of the changing rooms, James roughly massaging his shoulders, grins of exhaustion on their faces. Hair still damp and clothes still slightly askew, he’d expected his usual friends to be waiting—Remus, Marlene, Lily, maybe even a few other.

He didn’t expect you.

And you weren’t there, though he was welcomed with a rally of loud cheers, applause, too hard pats on the back. He really was trying to enjoy the moment, honest, but it felt slightly incomplete. Because the only person he was looking forward to celebrating his victory with, was you.

Minutes had passed and they were still stood there, just barely a meter away from the doors of the changing room.

It was James who caught sight of you first, elbowing Sirius roughly in the ribs. Nodding his head in your direction, ”No way,” he whispered, grinning.

Barrelling through the curtains, you hunched over hands on your knees—panting breaths as your chest heaved. Marlene let out a low chuckle. “Huh. She actually came.”

Your voice came out tight, each word wheezed out. “So…so many—people”, inhaling deeply through your nose, “Got—got lost,” Eyes squeezing shut as you failed miserably to catch your breath.

Sirius blinked, momentarily stunned, before a slow, triumphant smirk spread across his face. You still hadn’t found the strength to look up. His feet carried him toward you without hesitation, and by the time he reached you, his grin was unstoppable.

“You made it,” he said, a touch smug, but there was something else beneath it—undeniably soft. Hand reaching out to him in desperate purchase, he caught it, bringing his other hand gently around your waist—stabalising you, as you rested your weight on him.

You cracked one eye open, still huffing out your breath. “Clearly.”

“Well, I’m honoured,” he drawled, tilting his head. “Didn’t think you’d run to me.”

Before you could muster up a proper retort, one hand shifted your shoulder, guiding you ever so slightly out of the way as James, Remus, and the others brushed past, leaving the two of you alone in the corridor.

Sirus waiting patiently for your breathing to steady, when you eventually stood up straight, his gaze was tender—a warmth spreading through his chest, feeling like he could finally relish in his victory.

He was looking down at you, the awareness of your proximity making your barely regulated heartbeat ring obnoxiously in your ears, breaths shallowing again—not from exertion, not from the running, but from him.

Arms still holding onto you, not tightly, not in a way that caged you in—just enough that if you wanted to move away, you could. Touch somehow firm and gentle, grounding, fingertips twitching ever so slightly against the fabric at your waist.

Instead, you looked up at him, swallowing past the dryness that inched up your throat—gaze heavy and burning. “You did amazing,” you murmured, voice softer than you’d meant, like the words weren’t quite enough for what you felt, “Really,” confession direct and sincere.

His lips parted, breath catching, eyes trained into yours. The teasing smirk he so often wore faltered, replaced with something deeper, something that sent heat curling low in your stomach.

“Mmm that’s high praise, Y/N.” His voice had dropped, slow and deliberate—honeyed, like he was savoring each word, letting them hang heavy in the air.

Sirius tilted his head, just slightly, gaze flickering—your eyes, your lips, back to your eyes. It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t careful. It was knowing, full of intention, and it made the prickling skin at the back of your neck travel, helplessly further down your spine.

Your fingers twitched at your sides, the urge to reach for him overwhelming, shoulders squeezing up, sucking in a breath smaller than you needed when he inched closer. The distance between you was shrinking, a measly sliver of space left.

He was giving you a chance to stop this.

You didn’t take it.

His hand tightened at your sides, just barely, and the moment you tipped your chin up—just the slightest bit, just enough—he was there.

The first touch of his lips was ghostly, so faint you wondered is was just his breath, inconceivably cautious, testing—savoring your moment before committing to it fully.

And then raising slightly to your toes, nose skimming his skin, that was all it took.

Sirius exhaled sharply through his nose, and the kiss deepened, urgent and needing, like he’d been waiting for this longer than he was willing to admit.

And he had.

His other hand found purchase at your jaw, fingers curling just beneath your ear, angling your face as he pressed closer—so close you could taste the lingering remnants of triumph on his lips.

The arch of your feet began to burn at the stretch.

You barely registered when your hands found his jumper, curling into the damp fabric, trying to close a non-existent gap between you. Pulling him in as you pushed your feet to press firmly into the ground beneath you—his neck craning further down chasing you, unwilling to breakaway. He smiled against your mouth, he couldn’t help himself, kissing you was the easiest thing in the world, second-nature.

He prayed this moment wouldn’t end.

Lips plush and warm against his, the echoes of his teammates’ cheers lost, one palm slipping so intuitively into the dip of your neck, fingertips entwining with the strands at nape—basking in you, like you were a small slice of heaven.

When he finally pulled away, he didn’t go far, forehead resting against yours, his breath fanning against your lips. His smile had returned now, still bright, but softer—contented.

“Well,” he murmured, voice still hushed, “I suppose that’s a fair prize.”

You scoffed, but your lips were still tingling, wanting, your fingers were still curled into him. “Oh, shut up, Black.”

He laughed, vibrant and victorious, and just this once—you let him have it.

[lesbo-tuliplvrr]

slumber party

bestfriend!abby x bestfriend!reader

summary: your best friend abby calls you up for a sleepover after having not spent time together in months.

clingy!abby, friends to lovers, college!abby, college!reader, fem!reader, y/n used once, medicalstudent!abby, fluff, minor angst but mostly it's one sided, no specific descriptions of reader other than them being shorter than abby and having their hair uncovered at night

wc: 3.2k

Abigail anderson. Your best friend since primary school. Your longest friendship. Your longest crush.

You hadn't always had a crush on Abby. Sure you loved her, but only really as a friend. That was, until junior year of highschool when her body had started noticeably changing. She started working out more, her biceps bulging through every tshirt. She had a growth spurt too, now almost towering over you. You yourself weren't that short but her stature made for a quite prominent difference.

You weren't usually shallow, But c'mon. Abby was already one of the best persons in your life; smart, caring, trustworthy. Turns out you only needed that little extra push to transform your platonic admiration for her into something else. This had been going on for 5 years and you had zero intention of ever letting her know.

It would just be way too risky, confessing something like that. What if she wanted to cut you off? What if she was disgusted by your feelings? What if being friends for so long bit you in the ass and she saw you more like a sister?!

And plus, dropping something like that on her when she was already swept up by her studies to become a doctor most of the time, would be horrible. You figured, you just had to let the feelings die. Of course it was taking much longer than expected, going onto the 6th year of having said crush, but it just had to be done.

So when Abby told you her dad would be out of town and that you should sleep over, you found yourself at a crossroads. You could go, and spend time with your best friend and it be a great night. Or you could go and be so incredibly uncomfortable hiding your feelings.

"Come on, we haven't had a slumber party in ages. I feel like we're always so busy we barely have any time for each other anymore. which is crazy for us!" Abby suggested as she spoke to you over the phone.

Yeah, totally not because I've been purposefully distancing myself to get rid of this festering crush.

You responded, "I mean , don't you have studying to do? I'll just distract you."

"Dont worry about me. Plus, you wouldn't distract me, you never do." She replied with her honey-like voice that would never cease to make you melt.

"We both know that's a lie but sure." You gave in. It was your best friend. Plus you really hadn't had time together in the past few months.

It was just a sleepover with Abby. All you had to do was act normal and it'd be fine. It's just Abby.

Abby answered the door when you arrived, immediately pulling you in a for a hug, stating how much she missed you and how long its been since you properly hung out, just the two of you.

"This place hasn't changed at all." you say, looking around at the familiar picture frames of her and her dad still plastered in their same spots on the walls.

"Yeah, we're both pretty busy all the time so," she trailed off. "You want anything to drink?" she asked, grabbing your overnight bag from you and heading to place it in her room.

"Nah, but I'll help myself, it's fine." you respond, following her into her room.

Her room has seen a few minor changes, none of which younwerent aware of though. It might have been years since you actually set foot into her bedroom, but you still saw it regularly. During your as frequent as possible facetime calls, you got to see through her camera the little changes she'd make to her walls. Even got to help in the decision process sometimes.

"It's been a while since you've been in here huh?" she asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, eyeing you as you peered at all her stuff.

"Yeah, cant believe how long it's been." you replied, distracted by the sheer amount of personality visible on her walls and desk.

Her college textbooks neatly tucked away on the side of her desk in a stack, near her pencil holder that held various shades of highlighters and pens. There were multiple pictures on the wall directly above her desk, along with many post it's of medical terms. Most of them were of her and her dad, or of her dog froma. few years ago, Alice. But right in the middle there were two of you and her. One from when you were much younger, closer to the time you first became friends and the other from your highschool graduation.

You made a mental note to take more pictures with her once you overcame your crush.

You looked around for a moment more, realising there was no mattress or anything on the ground. Sure, you slept on the same bed together before but that was when you were kids. Years ago.

"Soooo should I sleep on the couch or the ground?" you asked jokingly, secretly hoping she'd actually have an answer.

She laughed, "Oh come on, it might've been some time but we're not strangers." she joked with her beautiful smile.

Fuck.

You chuckled at this, hoping it seemed genuine and didn't expose the fear you felt of being so close to her for so long. Abby, however, noticed your shift in energy. Choosing not to say anything, she promptly changed the subject.

"Alright, what's for dinner?" she got up from the bed and led you both back out to the living room. Grabbing the TV remote, she put on one of her rnb playlists. "I was thinking we could cook something, chat and catch up for a bit then maybe watch a movie or something."

Gosh, she'd really thought this through. "Abby I hope that you don't have outstanding assignments due while you're doing all of this," you scolded her, already getting back into the groove of things.

She sighed, "Uugggghhh no, mom. I'll have you know that I am actually very ahead of my assignments. And even if I were behind, I'd still wanna be hanging with you tonight."

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she came around your frame to hug you from behind. You forgot how physically affectionate she was, and how much you missed it. You tried to not lean into it too much. The last thing you needed right now was to give yourself any false hope.

"I just- I really need this right now," she said with a sigh that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, dropping her head on your shoulder. You were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings that you hadn't even stopped to think about how stressful school and everything must be for her. You turned your head slightly towards her, faces mere inches away from each other.

"I really need this right now and you're so fucking tense that I can't even give you a proper hug!" she stated, attacking you with tickles.

You screamed in laughter as she jammed her fingers into your sides, not giving up her mission to make you laugh. You tried running away but her grip on you was too strong, as expected of abby. Your attempts, however, did lead you to toppling over the couch, with her on top of you. She continued tickling you as you laughed, both smiling wide.

Through squeals and breaths you tried to reason it her, "Okay! Okay stop."

"There she is," she smiled, finally halting the tickles. You looked up at her, trying so very hard not to grab her by the collar and kiss her stupid.

She sat up, straddling your hips as you still lay on the couch, breathing heavily. You raised your head slightly, looking her directly in the eyes.

Gathering her breath, she started, "Okay. Now tell me, what's going on with you?" she asked, pushing her flyaways behind her ears.

Confused you asked, "Me?"

"Mhmm, you've been all distant and weird around me for quite some time." she supplied, hands resting on her thighs. her big, muscular thighs. snap out of it!

Shit, she noticed. "I-" you didn't know how to respond.

Worry evident on her face she continued, "Did I do something? Because if I did you gotta let me know, i- I've been so focused on school and-"

"No! no, n- it's not anything you've done. don't worry" you answered, "I guess I've just been feeling a bit...." you pulled something out your ass quickly, "lonely, lately."

Not entirely wrong. It was gonna have to work.

"I'm sorry." she replied, empathy clear on her face as she leaned forward to hold your arms. "But hey, I guess this came at the perfect time then huh? You won't be lonely tonight, I'll make sure of it. 'kay? Now let's go make something and you have to tell me everything that's been going on with you." she pat your thighs before coming off. Her weight would be a missed presence on your lap.

The music played at a comfortable volume as you two easily maneuver around the kitchen, cooking up a simple pasta dish. You talked about anything and everything, fully catching each other up on what the other had missed in their lives. In all your attempts at dodging her and keeping your distance, you'd forgotten why you two were best friends in the first place.

Abby was easy to talk to. She always knew how to cheer you up and how to comfort you. As did you to her. When you would hang out, there was always fun to ensue. Which is exactly why you fell in love with her. But as you were here, having chopped and prepared all the other ingredients and awaiting the water to boil, dancing and laughing around the kitchen hand in hand with Abby, you decided that just for tonight you could forget the complications that having a crush on Abby would cause and just lean into your best friend whom you missed so much.

When the meal was done, you both retreated to the couch where you sat closely next to each other in search of a movie to watch.

"I feel like nothing looks good," Abby stated, as she kept scrolling through the site.

"We could always hate watch something?" you suggested cheekliy, knowing that Abby was already not a big movie person and that it would be an utter waste of time for her to watch one that wasn't good.

"Ha ha very funny." she deadpanned, "What's that one you always wanted to watch when we were younger? Let's just watch that."

"Are you sure? Because you'll have to put up with me quoting almost the entire thing. And singing all of the songs." you weren't really asking seeing as she had already found the film, Tangled, and was ready to press play.

"I'll be fine pumpkin."

She hadn't called you that name in years. It was nice to hear it again.

As promised you quoted almost all of the movie, under your breath though, so as to not annoy Abby too much. It was more like a light whisper/lipsync. Unbeknownst to you, while you were thoroughly enjoying what was one of your favourite movies ever, Abby hadn't even been paying attention. She'd been looking at you for the majority of the film's runtime, only looking at the screen when you turned to look at her and found her not focused enough.

"You're missing important character development here Abby, he bought the apples for maximus!"

After the movie you both cleaned the dishes, then went to her room.

Another thing you forgot to consider in all your rumination, showering. You and Abby weren't the shower together type of best friends but it was definitely a 'not a big deal if we see each other naked' type of deal. So you'd often change into and out of clothes in front of each other with no problems. If the whole night so far wasn't gonna do it, this would be the fucking nail in the coffin. Abby, changing out of her clothes, right in front of you.

You didn't want to come off as suspicious by clearly turning away but you also didn't want to feel like a perv and look at her in her underwear, knowing full well that you wished it were under different circumstances. So you opted for casually directing your attention to somewhere else in the room as she stood naked a few feet in front of you.

"I guess I'll go in first," she annouced grabbing her towel and leaving the room.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you quickly undressed and wrapped your towel around your body. You sat at the edge of her bed and waited for her to be done as you tried to calm your nerves.

It absolutely did not help your nerves when she stepped out of the bathroom and into her room, glistening from the shower. Muscles on full display, unbraided hair cascading down her back while some stuck to her face. She looked like a goddess. You quickly got up and headed into the shower, leaving her in her room to change.

It was like the more you decided to just let go of your feelings for Abby, the more she'd do things that made you fall for her all over again. You ended up taking way longer than usual in the bathroom, mustering up the courage to face her again while also trying to steady your heart rate.

Finally exiting the bathroom, changed and ready for bed, she closed the door, took off her bedroom light and hopped in right next to you. At first you both stayed silent, staring up at the ceiling, before she broke the silence.

"I'm really glad you were able to come," she expressed, turning on her side to face you.

You mimicked her position, scooting a little closer to the middle of the bed. "I'm glad I did."

You stared into each other's eyes for a moment, really taking the other in, before you spoke up again.

"You said you really needed this, what's going on with you?" you asked, poking a finger into her arm.

She looked down at where you touched her arm then back up into your eyes. Sighing with a smile, she responded, "School has been kinda stressful I guess, but to tell you the truth, I just missed you." She scooted closer to you, moving her hand from under her head to caressing yours.

No. She meant that as a friend of course. Do not get your hopes up again.

"You're tense again." she pointed out, hand still laying on your hair.

God, why was she so perceptive?!

"No I'm not?" you scoffed. Your deflection did not work on her.

"Yes you are. You've got that look in your eye again," she continued caressing your hair, "What's going on up there?"

You sat up, pulling away from her touch. She followed you in sitting upright on the bed.

You knew that lying about everything being fine would not work any better than it's been all day, so you figured you'd at least give her something.

"If I tell you, you might not want to hang around me anymore."

She looked at you incredulously. How could you ever think something like that? "Did you kill someone or something?" she teasingly suggested with a laugh, that being the only plausible situation in her head. She didn't miss how you looked at her, amusement absent on your face.

"Sorry, I just- no matter what it is, I won't stop being your friend y/n." she said seriously, one hand moving to touch your thigh.

"Please don't, because if I tell you and you really don't wanna be associated with me anymore it'll just hurt more." you barely got out, eyes becoming teary. You knew you were scared of something like this happening. Your increasing heartbeat and glassy eyes further proved just how terrified this made you.

If Abby wasn't worried before, she certainly was now. "Hey, I get to decide who stays in my circle and who doesn't okay?" She cradled your face.

You shook your head, still not giving into confession. "Everything's gonna change and I don't want it to so let's just forget it."

"If things have to change...then I'll just make sure it's for the better." How could she be so reassuring without even knowing what was going to be said? She held your chin, tilting your head to look at her.

With a sigh, you finally gave in, "I feel so much..love.....for you..since high school. And it's only gotten worse recently. I swear I've tried making it go away, I've tried so much. I don't wanna be a bad friend by springing this on you but i also know that trying and failing to hide it isnt doing me any favours either so.." Tears were streaming down your face, your sniffles becoming the most prominent sound in the room.

"And now because you know, things are never gonna be the same and I just wish I'd been better at hiding it. I wish I never had these feelings in the first place. Then this wouldn't be happening and I wouldn't have to lose my best friend right after we had so much fun together."

Abby was silent. Staring into your eyes, her expression unreadable. She looked down into her lap, a small smile growing on her lips, before looking back up at you.

She leaned forward till there was barely space in between the two of you. Abby glanced down at your lips then back up to your eyes, making it clear what she was referring to. "Can I?"

Your heart rate was through the roof. There's no way she wanted this too. "Are you not.. worried about how things are gonna be between us now?"

"I said I'd make sure the change was for the better, didn't I?"

"You can."

In what felt like zero time, Abby carefully crashed her lips onto yours. Her lips were soft, her touch gentle. It was exactly what you imagined this to be like.

Gently pulling away, she wiped your tears with her thumb, looking at you with so much love in her eyes you swore the rest of the world would now be void of it.

Through sniffles and smiles you apologized, "Sorry hah, I'm a mess."

"Did you really think I couldn't love you?" Abby asked, holding your face in her hands. "I've loved you before I even knew what love was, pumpkin."

Her efforts to wipe your tears were now fruitless, your eyes pouring out streams of emotion.

She pulled you in for a hug. This time, a proper one, without the weight of what could have been laying on your entire being. You shared one more kiss, Abby then kissing your forehead as you both lay down to finally sleep. A sleep void of worries and stress.

You were actually hers.

soooo sorry if that was basically 95% buildup for 5% payoff. I totally wrote this in a whim at late hours of the night. anyway, hope you enjoy. requests are open! to those whove requested, I am working on your stuff so have no fear :>

[muletia]

First kiss with Orion, but I lose 10 aura points cuz I’m immediately red faced, giggling like a manic after. Such a handsome robot man, frfr

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

[tfp] obsessed!orion pax x human!reader

summary: you share your first kiss with orion :))

cw: fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of jealousy, implied stalking (nothing serious tho), orion is very awkward in this

word count: 1600

Orion had once again invited himself into your garage.

You spotted the familiar semi-truck even before you turned into your driveway, making the motto "robots in disguise" utterly useless. After all, a giant Peterbilt barely fitting in a regular garage for cars was incredibly conspicuous and, worse, drew suspicion. You’d already fielded nosy questions from neighbors about that particular truck more times than you could count, but luckily, the excuse of a visiting boyfriend still managed to smooth things over. It wasn’t even far from the truth, considering you and Orion had recently entered that odd pre-relationship stage.

The grass on the side of the lawn now had permanent indentations from where you’d been parking your car. The grooves matched the shape and size of your tires perfectly, a result of Orion visiting so often and staying so long that your garage had essentially been repurposed, evicting your poor, lifeless car to sleep outdoors. Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose, jealous of your other mode of transport. You wouldn’t be surprised; Orion had a knack for overthinking the smallest issues—things that didn’t bother you at all.

So, as usual, you left your displaced car outside in the same spot as always (you were even convinced you could feel the tires sinking into the grooves) and headed toward the garage. You caught sight of Orion adjusting his side mirrors to keep you in view, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small, endearing gesture.

“Hi, Orion,” you greeted him while closing the garage door. “Been waiting long?” The question was rhetorical—he always arrived early. Once, you’d left work early to run errands and still had a couple of hours to spare. Naturally, you planned to spend them at home. When you pulled into the driveway, Orion was already there. He’d gotten such a scolding that day he was on the verge of tears and hadn’t visited you for a few days afterward. Yet the habit of waiting had become so ingrained in his processor that he soon resumed the routine.

“Greetings, [Name],” he responded, transforming carefully so that his helm wouldn’t hit the ceiling, which already bore plenty of scars from startled jerks, miscalculated transformations, and certain... blue fluids. “Just a few kliks.”

You hummed in response, making it clear you didn’t believe him but weren’t interested in pressing the issue. Feeling his intense and impatient gaze, you set your bag down by the door to the house and finally turned your full attention to him. The reward was a soft, delighted smile.

He moved closer, unable to tolerate too much distance between you. It looked awkward and somewhat comical as he shuffled his knees and elbows across the floor like he was crawling, but the cramped space of the garage left him no better option. That said, it worked. Within moments, his large, expressive faceplate was mere inches from yours, and the optics on it cast a blue glow on you in the dim light of the garage.

You didn’t miss how those same optics flicked briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The only evidence of the moment was the slightly louder whir of his cooling fans.

“[Name],” he began, “I would like to ask you something. May I?”

“Sure?”

“Thank you. Could you explain the symbolism of kisses to me?”

Straight to the point, as always.

“Ah, well, okay,” you started, by now accustomed to his frequent questions about human culture—particularly those related to dating. “A kiss is a way to express feelings and physically convey them to someone else. People kiss to greet each other or show love.”

“With their... lips?”

“Exactly,” you nodded, suddenly feeling oddly flustered. Flirting with him was one thing, but an abrupt conversation about something as intimate as kissing was a whole other level. Especially when his face was so dangerously close to yours, silently begging for a kiss.

You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure and break the tension by averting your eyes. However, out of the corner of your vision, you saw Orion frantically trying to reestablish eye contact, his optics darting around in search of yours. It didn’t help that he looked crestfallen, as if learning that lips were essential for kissing had personally ripped the spark from his chest.

“Oh... I see,” he sighed, lowering his helm slightly. He looked like a dejected puppy, and suddenly, you felt an overwhelming urge to console the poor thing.

“Now I have a question,” you said, immediately catching his attention. The dejected puppy look disappeared, replaced by curiosity and the devoted focus he always reserved just for you. “What’s brought on this sudden interest? Got a human on your mind?” It was meant as a joke, but his embarrassed expression made you realize you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“Recently, I’ve been delving into human literature, and this concept appeared frequently. I conducted independent... research but preferred to ask you for confirmation.”

Because he couldn’t tell you he’d spent the past few days reading an overwhelming amount of science fiction romance about interspecies relationships. And he especially couldn’t tell you that he favored stories where he could imagine himself as the protagonist and cast you as the love interest. As for the endless hours he’d spent meticulously fantasizing about your romantic connection, intimacy, and the physical closeness that came with it—not even Unicron could drag that confession out of him.

“So, am I correct in assuming that Cybertronians don’t kiss?” you added.

“No,” he replied, his tone almost mournful, as if the very notion pained him. “Without lips, we convey feelings differently.”

“Would you like to try?”

He blinked several times, his cooling fans whirring louder again.

“Pardon?”

“Would you like to kiss?” you clarified. “To see what it’s like for yourself?”

Yes. Yes. YES. He’d dreamed of this moment in countless ways, wanting so badly to express his feelings in a human way, hoping you’d understand how much he cared for you—how much he adored, admired, and cherished you. The need for closeness threatened to overwhelm his rationality, but he managed to keep his composure, though his frame trembled slightly with excitement.

“You truly... truly have no objections? I would never wish to coerce you into such... carnal gestures.”

“Orion, darling, you’re not coercing me into anything. This is entirely my conscious decision.”

“And does the setting not bother you? My research suggested that kisses should occur in more romantic environments.”

“Nothing about this bothers me,” you assured him. “So? Shall we try?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

You didn’t even have the chance to ask how he envisioned it before he suddenly began shrinking, using mass-shifting to make things easier for both of you. In mere moments, he reduced himself to an impressive but more manageable three meters tall, kneeling as though preparing to propose. You had to remind yourself repeatedly that he didn’t know the implications of that pose, and you needed to pull yourself together because your cheeks were likely redder than his armor.

“May I?” he asked at last.

“Of course,” you whispered.

A warm, solid servo cradled your head, digits gently tangling in your hair. He was cautious, clearly determined not to hurt you.

You thought he might hesitate, regretful of the situation he’d placed himself in, but he quickly proved you wrong. Carefully, he covered your lips with his own. Not hesitantly—he was far from shy—but inquisitively, exploring uncharted territory while aiming to bring you pleasure. And he succeeded wonderfully.

You pressed your lips against his, completing the kiss, which prompted him to draw you closer. To avoid losing your balance, you grabbed onto his chest plating, your thumb brushing against his cool windshields.

The first kiss was incredibly gentle yet awkward. You could tell Orion had no idea what he was doing, relying solely on movies, descriptions, or whatever else he’d found online. The absence of actual lips also affected the quality, but you could sense the subtle puckering on his part, just as awkward as the entire kiss.

You were convinced he must have practiced the maneuver on his own.

You didn’t want to interrupt him, enchanted by the sweetness of his gestures, his tenderness, and his endearing awkwardness. But the kiss literally took your breath away. You tried to hold on a bit longer, savoring the feeling of bliss and an odd sense of rightness, as if teaching an alien how to kiss was your everyday routine. And honestly? You fervently hoped it would be.

Reluctantly, you pulled away to catch your breath. Orion chased after you for a moment, unwilling to end the kiss, but eventually relented, his optics clouded as he watched you inhale deeply. He didn’t seem entirely present in this reality.

Chuckling at his utterly smitten expression, you brought him back to Earth.

“Please... I need more. This is incredible, [Name], unimaginably wonderful. If you don’t mind?” he leaned closer again, pressing his forehead to yours.

Still laughing, you tried to meet his gaze, but the sight of his love-struck, besotted optics filled you with uncontainable joy. You hadn’t expected to feel such elation from a simple kiss, yet here you were, unable to stop smiling. And his faceplate was so close...

“[Name]?” Orion tried again, this time more concerned than yearning.

“I’m fine!” you reassured him, finally meeting his optics as you fought off the remnants of laughter. “It’s just... I’m really happy right now.”

“I understand. So am I.”

“So... would you like to...”

“Yes. Please.”

He kissed you again, this time more confidently and even more fervently.

[mywhisperingwords]

old habits die screaming | fred g. weasley

summary: you move in with your ex, what could go wrong? word count: 7.9k masterlist

Living with your ex-boyfriend can only be a mistake, right?

It had been almost a year since you and Fred decided to end your relationship. You were better off as you had started—as friends.

It wasn’t easy at first. The wounds were fresh, the silences heavy, and the fights far too frequent. But somehow, you worked through it together.

After plenty of arguments, tears, and a lot of healing, you reached a point where you could be in the same room without feeling the overwhelming urge to run away.

If it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have fought so hard. But this was Fred. Your friendship with him had always been the most important bond in your life, and losing it wasn’t an option.

Looking back, you were glad you’d chosen to fight for that connection. Sitting now in the corner booth of your favorite pub, surrounded by friends and laughter, you couldn’t stop the wide grin spreading across your face as Fred spoke.

You could’ve jumped into his arms at his offer.

A week ago, your life had imploded spectacularly: you’d been kicked out of your flat two days after losing your job. The domino effect of disaster left you crashing on your friends’ couches, hopping from one uncomfortable sofa to another.

And while you loved your friends dearly, the experience was testing your patience, your self-esteem, and your spine.

That’s when Fred, in typical Fred fashion, swooped in with the most ridiculous yet perfect solution.

“You could stay at my place,” he’d said, a casual shrug accompanying the suggestion. “I’ve got an extra room since George moved in with his ball and chain.”

The table erupted in laughter, Angelina rolling her eyes at his choice of words, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was Fred’s familiar grin and the weight of the offer hanging in the air.

“Are you sure?” you asked, the hesitation in your voice giving away the doubts swirling in your head. “It could get… awkward, you know. With us… well, you know…”

Fred didn’t miss a beat. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I think we can do a pretty solid job of keeping our hands to ourselves.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he leaned closer. “Unless there’s something you want to tell me?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at you in that infuriatingly playful way he always did.

You couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, the tension in your chest easing as his old, familiar comfort washed over you.

The conversation quickly shifted, but the decision had been made.

What could possibly go wrong with moving in with your ex?

&

Not long after that night at the pub, you found yourself in George’s old room, surrounded by far too many boxes and not nearly enough energy to deal with them. Each box seemed to mock you with its disorganized contents, and you stood there, hands on your hips, debating whether to start with clothes, books, or the sentimental knick-knacks you didn’t even remember packing.

Before you could decide, Fred’s head popped around the doorframe. ��Fancy some dinner?”

You sighed in relief, your indecision instantly forgotten. “Please. Anything to escape this chaos.”

Fred grinned, disappearing down the hall. You followed him into the small kitchen, where he was already busy at the stove, stirring something in a pan that smelled faintly of garlic and herbs. You sank into one of the chairs at the tiny dining table, resting your chin in your hand as you watched him work.

For a moment, the scene felt so familiar it almost hurt. It pulled you back to all those nights when the two of you had cooked together, laughing over burnt toast or spilled sauce, stealing bites from each other’s plates.

But things were different now. There was a distance between you—a carefully constructed wall you’d both built, brick by painful brick, to protect what remained of your friendship.

You could only hope that wall wouldn’t close in on you.

Fred placed two plates on the table with a flourish, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Ta-da. I call it ‘whatever-was-in-the-fridge pasta.’ A Fred Weasley original.”

You laughed, grateful for the lightness he always managed to bring.

Dinner was simple but comforting, the kind of meal that settled warmly in your chest. The two of you slipped into an easy rhythm, trading jokes and stories like old times. You found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks, the stress of everything—your flat, your job, your entire mess of a life—fading away, if only for a little while.

For the first time since it all fell apart, you felt at peace. You glanced at Fred across the table, his familiar lopsided grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and thought that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

How wrong you had been.

&

It was on a crisp autumn morning, just a fortnight since you’d moved in, that the thought first crept into your mind:

This was a mistake.

It was a fleeting moment, almost insignificant, but it clung stubbornly to the edges of your thoughts, refusing to be shaken loose.

Since you didn’t have much to do aside from scouring the job listings and managing the mess of boxes still scattered in your room, you had the luxury of sleeping in most mornings.

Fred, on the other hand, wasn’t so fortunate. Running the shop demanded early starts and long hours, which meant you rarely crossed paths until the evenings.

It was working.

Or at least, it had been.

Until this morning.

You shuffled into the sunlit kitchen, still half-asleep, the smell of coffee pulling you forward like a siren’s call. But as you reached the doorway, you froze, your breath catching somewhere in your throat.

Fred stood at the stove, his back to you, clad in nothing but his briefs.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him like this before—you had. Too many times to count. But that was different. Back then, he’d been yours.

Now?

Now, you didn’t know where to look.

Your heart stumbled over itself as your gaze drifted, unbidden, tracing the familiar lines of his body—the broad curve of his shoulders, the strong planes of his back, the way his muscles shifted as he moved.

And then he turned.

A smirk spread across his face, that maddeningly familiar, cocky smirk, as he held up a spatula. “Eggs?” he asked casually, as if nothing about this moment was unusual.

You blinked, feeling rooted to the spot, your mouth suddenly dry.

There was something so mundane about it—Fred cooking breakfast in his kitchen. And yet, something about it reached deep inside you and pulled. Hard.

It was too easy to imagine this being your life again. Waking up late, wandering into the kitchen to find him there, teasing you while he cooked. The scene was almost domestic, dangerously so, and it sent your mind spiraling down a path you didn’t want to take.

Because it wasn’t real. Not anymore.

Your gaze drifted, unwelcome memories forcing their way into your mind. The way his hands now gripping the frying pan had once held your hips, firm and possessive. The way his bare skin had felt against yours in the dim light of his bedroom.

Your breath hitched, and you snapped yourself out of it, gripping the doorframe as if the wood could anchor you to reality.

You had no right to think of him like that anymore.

Clearing your throat, you forced a shaky smile and stepped further into the kitchen. “Don’t you own a shirt?”

Fred grinned, unbothered by your obvious fluster. “Not when I’m cooking,” he quipped, flipping the eggs with a practiced ease. “Adds a bit of danger to the whole process, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes, hoping he couldn’t see the way your cheeks burned. “Or maybe it’s just lazy,” you shot back, trying to sound unaffected as you grabbed a mug and poured yourself some coffee.

Fred chuckled, low and warm, and for a second, you let yourself bask in the sound. It had always been your favorite.

But then his voice broke the moment. “What’s got you up so early anyway?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said, sipping your coffee to avoid looking at him.

“Hmm,” he murmured, as if he didn’t entirely believe you, but thankfully, he didn’t press.

The conversation shifted to easier topics, and you tried to focus on his words, on anything other than the fact that he was standing so close, so familiar, and yet so utterly out of reach.

But even after he left for the shop, the image of him standing there, half-dressed and utterly at ease, stayed with you.

And for the rest of the day, that tiny, insignificant moment stuck to the edges of your mind, whispering the truth you didn’t want to admit.

Maybe this wasn’t working.

Maybe this had been a mistake after all.

&

The first snow of the season came unexpectedly.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, distractedly flipping through another edition of the Daily Prophet job listings, when Fred came bursting through the door, his hair dusted with flakes, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

“It’s snowing!” he announced, shaking the cold off like an overexcited puppy.

You looked up, startled, and frowned at the wet footprints trailing in behind him. “Fred, you’re getting the floor all—”

“Forget the floor! Come outside!”

“Fred, I don’t even have shoes on—”

Before you could protest further, he grabbed your hand and tugged you out of your chair, pulling you toward the door.

“Fred!” you yelped as the cold air hit you, your socks instantly soaked when you stepped out onto the snowy stoop.

But you didn’t have time to be annoyed. Fred was already crouched down, packing a snowball with the expertise of someone who’d been doing it his entire life. He grinned up at you, mischievous and boyish, the sight of it almost enough to steal your breath.

“Oh, no,” you said, holding up your hands. “Don’t even think about—”

Before you could finish, the snowball hit you square in the chest, exploding into a flurry of cold, powdery shards.

“Fred!”

You didn’t even think. Instinct took over, and within seconds you were scooping up your own handful of snow, chasing him as he darted out into the yard.

The next few minutes were filled with laughter and shouted threats, snow flying as the two of you ducked and weaved around the garden like children. The world beyond the snow-covered fence seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the soft crunch of your footsteps.

Eventually, you managed to tackle Fred into a snowbank, both of you collapsing in a heap, breathless and grinning.

“You’re ruthless,” he said, brushing snow out of his hair.

“You started it,” you countered, trying to catch your breath.

Fred tilted his head to look at you, his eyes warm and sparkling with mischief. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to see you smile like that.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of his words settling between you. But before you could overthink it, he reached out and gently brushed a snowflake off your cheek.

For a moment, everything else melted away.

It felt like old times—the way you used to laugh together, the easy intimacy that had always been so uniquely yours.

“God, I missed this,” you murmured without thinking, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fred’s smile faltered, just for a moment, and something unreadable flickered in his eyes. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Me too.”

The warmth of the moment lingered, but then Fred’s hand fell away, his gaze shifting to the snow-covered ground.

“But we both know how it ends,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness that made your chest ache.

Reality crashed back in like a cold gust of wind. The fragile bubble of warmth and laughter popped, leaving you both shivering in its absence.

He stood up first, brushing the snow off his trousers, and offered you a hand.

“Come on,” he said, forcing a smile. “You’re going to catch a cold if we stay out here.”

You hesitated, then took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet.

As you walked back toward the house, the distance between you felt heavier than it had in weeks.

&

In early winter, you slipped up for the first time.

It started like any other day, except that another owl swooped through the window with yet another rejection letter. The sight of it sitting on the kitchen counter—crisp, neat, and utterly damning—felt like the final nail in the coffin of your hopes.

You didn’t even have the strength to open it.

By mid-afternoon, you were curled up on the sofa, a blanket draped over your legs, staring blankly out the window. The world beyond seemed vibrant, crisp leaves dancing in the wind, golden light bathing the streets below. But you felt none of it.

The warmth of the blanket couldn’t touch the cold knot in your chest.

Hopeless. That’s what you felt. Like a failure, floundering without direction, your life reduced to waiting for scraps of acknowledgment from people who didn’t even know you.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You hadn’t moved from the sofa by the time Fred came home late that night. You heard the familiar creak of the door and the soft shuffle of his boots as he tried not to wake you. But the moment he walked into the room, silhouetted by the dim hallway light, something inside you snapped.

The tears you’d been holding at bay all day broke free.

Fred froze, the exhaustion on his face melting into concern. “Hey,” he murmured, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t even find the words to answer. You only shook your head, a sob catching in your throat, as he sat down beside you. His arms wrapped around you immediately, pulling you against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, resting his chin lightly on the top of your head. “Let it out.”

And you did.

You sobbed into him, every frustration and doubt from the past few weeks pouring out in hot, silent tears. His hand moved gently against your back, soothing without a word, while his other arm stayed securely around your shoulders, grounding you.

For the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel alone.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whimpered finally, your voice small and raw.

Fred’s grip tightened, his lips brushing your temple in an almost unconscious gesture of comfort. “Yes, you can,” he said softly. His voice was steady, unwavering, the kind of certainty you couldn’t find in yourself right now.

You shook your head, your hands gripping the front of his jumper like it was the only thing keeping you tethered.

He didn’t argue further, just held you tighter, letting the weight of his presence speak louder than words.

Eventually, the tears stopped, but the ache in your chest didn’t. You stayed like that for what felt like hours, curled into him, your breathing slowly matching the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When you finally pulled away, he caught your hand before you could retreat too far. “Come on,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

You blinked at him, confused. “Where?”

“My bed,” he said simply. “You need a good night’s sleep, and I’m not letting you spend another second crying on that damn sofa.”

You wanted to argue that he did not have to do that, that you had your own bed across the hallway, but you didn’t have the energy. And maybe, deep down, you didn’t want to.

So, for the first time since you’d moved in, you found yourself in Fred’s bed.

It shouldn’t have felt as natural as it did. The way he curled around you, his arm slung protectively across your waist, the steady rhythm of his breathing against your back—it was too easy to sink into it, to let yourself believe, for one fleeting moment, that nothing had changed.

But everything had.

You told yourself this would be the last time.

You should’ve known how dangerous it was to live with your ex. There was a line you weren’t supposed to cross, and you’d already been skirting too close to it for weeks.

Now, you’d crossed it entirely.

And yet, as you drifted off to sleep in the safety of his arms, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Not yet.

&

One cold winter morning, Fred was running late for work.

The flat was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fireplace, and you sat curled up on the sofa, cradling a steaming mug of tea in your hands. Meanwhile, Fred was tearing through the living room like a tornado, muttering to himself as he hunted for the various pieces of his wardrobe that were inexplicably scattered across the room.

“If only you knew what a closet is,” you murmured, hiding a smile behind your mug as he dropped to his knees, peering under the chair.

Fred shot you a mock glare, his brows furrowing in exaggerated offense. “No need. There’s order in chaos, love,” he replied, triumphantly holding up a lone sock as if it were a Quidditch trophy.

You snorted, setting your tea on the coffee table and reaching for the Daily Prophet. “Your chaos is just chaos, Fred.”

“Pff,” he scoffed, tugging on the sock and hopping on one foot as he tried to pull on his boot. “I don’t have time to argue with you—” He paused, glancing at his watch. His eyes widened in alarm. “Merlin’s beard, the shop was supposed to open—forty minutes ago!”

You raised an eyebrow, watching him stumble around the room with his hair sticking up in every direction and his jumper only halfway over his head. He looked utterly ridiculous, yet there was something about the scene that made your stomach flip. Maybe it was the way the morning light caught the freckles on his nose, or maybe it was the way his laughter used to sound against your ear—

No. You stopped that thought dead in its tracks.

But your mind betrayed you anyway, pulling you into memories of soft skin beneath your fingertips, rough hands tugging at the small of your back, and whispered words that once felt like promises.

The invisible lines you’d so carefully drawn between you had been blurred too many times now to count, and no amount of scolding yourself could erase the heat creeping up your neck.

“You’d better hurry, then,” you said, your voice raspier than intended. You cleared your throat, praying he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks burned as you avoided his gaze.

“Right,” he muttered distractedly, grabbing his scarf from the armchair. His movements were quick, thoughtless, like second nature. But then—

He leaned down and kissed you.

It was brief, instinctive, and utterly devastating. The soft press of his lips against yours lasted no longer than a heartbeat, a fleeting goodbye born of muscle memory.

And then he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him, and you sat frozen, staring at the empty space he had stood in just seconds before.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t think. It was as if the world had tilted off its axis, throwing everything you thought you understood into question.

It had felt strangely right—so natural it almost didn’t register at first. But the more the moment replayed in your mind, the more you felt the weight of it.

Because it was wrong. So, so wrong.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Which was exactly what you told Alicia as you sat in the old, familiar pub.

The words spilled out in a rush—disjointed and jumbled—until you finally reached the part where Fred kissed you that morning. You hesitated then, your hands twisting in your lap, afraid to meet her gaze.

You already knew what you’d see there. That look of hers, the one that was a mixture of concern and pity, like she could already see you running headfirst into a brick wall.

The last thing you wanted was to hear her confirm what you were already screaming at yourself: that this was a mistake.

So instead of looking at her, you let your gaze wander across the pub, drawn like a magnet to the figure at the bar. Fred.

It was always him.

He hadn’t seen you yet, and for a moment, you let yourself watch him, trying to process the pull you felt every time he was near. That same pull that had existed when you were together and hadn’t let up since. If anything, it had grown stronger, tighter, like a thread wrapped around your ribcage, making it difficult to breathe.

You hadn’t spoken to him since this morning. The weight of the moment between you still hung in the air, unresolved and suffocating. You were too afraid to ask him about it, too afraid of what excuse he’d offer to explain it away.

Because talking about it would make it real. And you hated real.

Fred leaned casually against the bar, chatting with the bartender when a woman approached him—a woman with wide eyes and an even wider smile. She laughed at something he said, the kind of laugh that was too loud, too eager, and she placed her hand on his arm as if she’d known him forever.

Your stomach dropped.

It was as if the room tilted, the walls closing in on you as a bitter thought crept into your mind: Maybe this has already become too real.

You tightened your grip on your glass, trying to focus on Alicia’s voice, but her words faded into background noise. Your eyes were glued to the woman at the bar, to Fred’s easy grin, to the casual charm he wielded so effortlessly.

And for a brief, searing moment, you wanted to march over there and pull them apart. But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because no matter how much it hurt, you had no claim on him.

You downed your drink in one go, the burn in your throat dulling the ache in your chest just slightly. Turning back to Alicia, you tried to force yourself to listen, to focus, but your gaze betrayed you. It kept drifting back to Fred, your thoughts spiraling further into chaos.

Later that night, you walked into the flat right behind Fred.

The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of coats as you hung yours on the rack. You wanted to let it go, to shove your feelings aside and leave the night behind you. But you couldn’t stop yourself.

“So,” you began, your voice sharper than intended, “you seemed to have had fun tonight.”

Fred froze for a fraction of a second, his back to you. Then he turned, his expression guarded but not unkind. He opened his mouth, almost as if to apologize, but you didn’t let him.

“Don’t worry,” you said quickly, cutting him off before he could say something that would make it worse. “I wouldn’t get in your way.”

Fred’s brows knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You folded your arms, leaning back against the wall as if the nonchalant stance would keep you from unraveling. “If you wanted to bring someone home,” you said, each word tasting like poison, “I wouldn’t get in your way.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes then—something raw and vulnerable—but it disappeared almost instantly, buried beneath a mask of indifference.

“Right,” he said slowly, his voice unusually flat. “I’m guessing that goes for you too, correct?”

Your throat tightened, and for a moment, all you wanted was to scream No, it doesn’t. It never will. There’s no one else I want but you.

But you couldn’t say that.

Because you were friends.

And friends didn’t feel this way.

“Yeah,” you muttered instead, the lie twisting like a knife in your chest.

Fred held your gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded, turning on his heel. “Then it’s settled,” he said quietly, walking toward his room.

He paused at the door, his back still to you. “Good night.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone with the suffocating weight of everything left unsaid.

It was only until later that night, when the mess of your mind was keeping you up that you realized neither one of you had addressed the kiss.

&

The conversation clung to the edges of your mind, never quite letting go.

You hated that about Fred—you could never completely shut him out, even when you desperately wanted to.

Still, you tried to forget about it, preferably with some liquor and a good time with your friends. But fate had other plans.

It was a Friday night when Alicia called you to announce, in dramatic detail, that her food poisoning was “worse than a dragon pox outbreak,” and Angelina owled that she was stuck at work late.

That meant you had the flat to yourself. Just you and your thoughts. Merlin, you hated it.

After pacing the living room for a while and deciding that drinking alone wasn’t a good look, you grabbed a book and sank onto the sofa.

Reading was supposed to be a distraction, but the words blurred right in front of your eyes. Your mind kept wandering—to Fred. Specifically, to Fred tonight before he left.

His stupidly tight shirt. The way it clung to his arms, leaving very little to the imagination. His hair, just the right amount of messy, like he had spent hours perfecting that careless look. And his cologne—that intoxicating mix of spice and citrus that lingered in the air long after he was gone.

You cursed yourself.

You were halfway through debating whether to make tea or wallow in self-pity when you heard it—the sound of a key in the lock.

Your heart sank.

Why was Fred home already?

And then you heard her voice.

A woman’s voice.

Your pulse quickened as you bolted upright, looking around in a panic. You needed to escape. Now.

But before you could make it to your room, the door swung open, and you were trapped. The only viable hiding spot was the narrow space behind the sofa. It wasn’t your proudest moment, but you dove behind it anyway, crouching low and praying Fred wouldn’t notice you.

The woman sauntered into the living room, plopping onto the sofa with a cheerful sigh. Meanwhile, Fred’s footsteps padded toward the kitchen.

This was the worst night of your life.

You crouched there, frozen, as the woman began talking about something you couldn’t quite make out. Probably complimenting his laugh or his eyes or his stupidly perfect shoulders.

And Fred? Fred was doing exactly what you told him he could do—move on. See other people. Be happy.

So why did it feel like your lungs were caving in?

He returned a moment later, a drink in hand, and you peeked around the edge of the sofa. He sat down beside her, too close for your liking, and started talking about some prank he used to pull at Hogwarts.

“Oh, back in school, George and I used to—”

You rolled your eyes before you could stop yourself. His story wasn’t even that funny. Or maybe it was, but you were too busy hating every second of this.

The woman’s laugh, high-pitched and syrupy, pierced the air. “You’re hilarious,” she giggled, leaning toward him.

Fred gave her a grin—the kind that made your heart ache.

You clenched your fists. This was fine. Completely fine. Totally normal behavior for two adults living together who happened to have a romantic history.

And then she said it: “Why don’t we take this party someplace else?”

Her voice was laced with suggestion, and you saw Fred freeze for a fraction of a second, his grin faltering.

Before you could stop yourself, you shot up like a Whomping Willow branch.

“Wait!”

The woman shrieked, nearly spilling her drink, and Fred whipped his head around, his expression morphing from shock to confusion.

“I, um…” You scrambled for an excuse, heat rushing to your face. “I think I lost my wand. Somewhere… in the sofa cushions.” You pointed vaguely at the seat beside her.

Fred’s brow furrowed. “You… lost your wand in the sofa?”

“Yes. Definitely. It, uh, slipped out of my pocket earlier.”

The woman stared at you like you were a particularly odd blast-ended skrewt, and Fred just blinked, his lips twitching like he was fighting back a laugh.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you said, desperate to fill the awkward silence. “Help me look!”

Fred sighed, running a hand through his hair, but he obliged, leaning over to pat the cushions while the woman scooted a little farther away, clearly uncomfortable.

“This is… awkward,” she muttered, gathering her purse.

You couldn’t agree more.

“Well, I think I’ll just… leave you to it,” she added, standing up and smoothing her skirt.

Fred straightened, looking vaguely annoyed. “You don’t have to—”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” she cut him off, already halfway to the door. “Maybe another time.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone with Fred in the now painfully quiet living room.

Fred turned to you slowly, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but definitely not pleased.

“So,” he drawled, voice thick with sarcasm. “Your wand, huh? Convenient timing, don’t you think?”

You clenched your jaw, heat rising to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, no, of course not,” he interrupted, stepping closer, his voice sharp. “Why would you mean to scare off the first person I’ve gone out with in over a year?”

“I didn’t scare her off!” you shot back, folding your arms defensively.

Fred arched an eyebrow, his tone cutting. “Really? Because hiding behind the sofa and then jumping out like a deranged jack-in-the-box wasn’t at all intimidating.”

You winced but refused to back down. “Maybe if you weren’t so quick to bring random women home, I wouldn’t have been caught off guard!”

Fred let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Right. That’s rich coming from you. You’re the one who said this—” He gestured between the two of you. “—was supposed to be fine. You’re the one who told me to meet other people. So excuse me for trying to have a life outside of… whatever the hell this is.”

Your chest tightened at his words, anger bubbling under your skin. “I’m not the one bringing strangers into our home like it’s some—some bachelor pad!”

Fred’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping into something lower, more dangerous. “Our home? That’s funny, because it feels a hell of a lot like my home, and you’re just squatting here until you figure out what to do with your life.”

The words hit like a slap, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.

“How dare you,” you hissed, stepping closer until you were nearly toe-to-toe with him.

Fred didn’t back away, his jaw tight and his eyes stormy. “Well, if the shoe fits…”

“I’m not some charity case, Fred!” you snapped, your voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. “You think I wanted to be here, living with you, watching you move on while I’m stuck—”

You stopped yourself, but it was too late. The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Fred’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second, and then his expression hardened again. “Stuck on what? Me?” he demanded, his voice rising.

You didn’t answer, but the silence spoke volumes.

Fred let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Merlin, you’re unbelievable. You don’t want me to move on, but you don’t want me either. What the hell do you want, then?”

“I don’t know!” you shouted, the admission tearing from your throat. “I don’t know, Fred, okay? All I know is that seeing you with her—hearing her laugh, watching her touch you—it made me want to scream.”

Fred stared at you, his chest heaving, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You don’t get to do this,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to be jealous. Not after you ended it.”

Your heart pounded, your body thrumming with anger and something else you didn’t want to name. “It took two, didn’t it?”

The tension between you was suffocating, the air thick with everything you’d been avoiding for weeks.

Fred’s gaze flickered to your lips, and for one reckless moment, you thought he might kiss you.

And then he did.

It wasn’t gentle or sweet—it was angry, desperate, a clash of teeth and lips and frustration. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, your hands tangling in his hair as he backed you against the wall, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t get close enough.

“This is a mistake,” you whispered against his lips, even as your hands tugged at his shirt.

“Probably,” Fred muttered, his voice rough, before pulling you back into another bruising kiss.

His hands roamed your body like he was trying to memorize every inch of you, and you clung to him, giving in to the storm you’d both been holding back for far too long.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew this wouldn’t fix anything, as he lifted you up and carried you into his room. It wouldn’t erase the pain or the heartbreak or the mess of your situation.

But for now, you let yourself fall back into old habits, into him, and pretended for just a little while longer that this wasn’t the worst idea you’d ever had.

&

The next morning, for a fleeting moment, you woke up feeling weightless, the kind of lightness you hadn’t felt in months. The sun spilled through the curtains, warm and golden, and Fred’s steady breathing next to you was a sound you hadn’t realized you missed so much.

And then reality hit like a cold slap to the face.

The events of the last few months flooded back into your mind—the breakup, the awkward dinners, the unspoken tension, and now this. You and Fred, tangled up in sheets and old habits, pretending for one reckless night that things hadn’t fallen apart.

Your stomach twisted painfully.

This wasn’t sustainable.

You needed to move out.

The thought settled heavily in your chest as you forced yourself out of bed. You dressed quickly, careful not to make too much noise, and retreated to the kitchen.

By the time Fred padded in, his hair still tousled from sleep, you were already seated at the table with your hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold.

For a second, neither of you spoke. Fred looked at you, his brow furrowing slightly, and you swore you saw a flicker of hope in his eyes—hope that made what you were about to say so much harder.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to look at him. “We can’t keep doing this,” you began, your voice quiet but firm. “It’s not fair to either of us.”

Fred froze, his hand still on the kettle. Slowly, he turned to face you, his expression unreadable. “What are you saying?”

You took a shaky breath, gripping the edge of the table like it might steady you. “I’m saying I need to move out, Fred. This—living here, being around you all the time—it’s not working. We’re just falling into old habits.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But instead, he just nodded slowly, his gaze fixed somewhere just past you.

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” he said, his voice bitter, almost mocking.

You flinched at his tone. “Fred—”

“No, really,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours now, sharp and accusing. “It’s like déjà vu. You decide it’s not working, and you leave. I don’t even get a say in it, do I?”

Your heart ached at the crack in his voice, but you couldn’t let yourself falter. “This isn’t about blame, Fred. It’s about what’s best for both of us.”

“Right,” he said, laughing humorlessly. “And you’ve decided that for us, just like last time.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away. “Fred, please—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, his voice sharp. “Don’t try to make this sound noble or selfless or whatever it is you’re telling yourself to make it easier.”

You stared at him, speechless, as the anger in his eyes softened into something far more painful. “You said we were better off as friends. And I…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I thought you’d come back. That we’d figure it out. But you didn’t, did you?”

Your throat felt tight, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how.”

This wasn’t fair. You might’ve been the one back then who initiated the breakup, but he didn’t argue, not really.

Fred ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “And now you’re running again. But sure, let’s call it what’s ‘best for both of us.’”

You stood abruptly, unable to sit still under his gaze any longer. “This isn’t easy for me either, Fred.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered under his breath.

You ignored the sting of his words and moved toward your room, determined to pack before you lost your resolve. Fred didn’t follow you.

By the time you’d stuffed a bag with enough essentials to last a few days at Alicia’s, the silence in the flat was deafening.

Fred was standing by the door when you emerged, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable once again. He didn’t say a word as you moved toward the door, your bag slung over your shoulder.

For a brief moment, you hesitated, turning to look at him. You wanted him to say something—anything. To stop you, to fight for you, to give you a reason to stay.

But Fred just stared at you, his face a mask of indifference. “Take care of yourself.”

So you opened the door, stepping out into the chilly winter air.

The second time wasn’t easier than the first. If anything, it was worse.

Because this time, you weren’t just walking away from Fred. You were walking away from the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, things could’ve been different.

And Fred didn’t stop you.

&

When Alicia opened the door, she didn’t even need to ask.

One look at you—bag slung over your shoulder, eyes red from holding back tears—and she simply stepped aside to let you in.

“You know where the spare room is,” she said softly, shutting the door behind you. “I’ll make tea.”

For the next few days, Alicia didn’t push. She let you sit quietly on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around you, lost in your thoughts. She gave you space to unpack—or not unpack, as you hadn’t even opened your bag yet. She simply existed around you, chatting about work or gossip or Quidditch, letting you be quiet but never alone.

But Alicia wasn’t a particularly patient person, and by the third day, her concern boiled over.

“Alright,” she said, setting down two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table and sitting across from you. “Out with it. What happened?”

You stared at the tea, your fingers curling around the mug for warmth. “I moved out,” you said finally, your voice hoarse from disuse.

Alicia blinked, clearly trying to process this. “You what?”

“I moved out,” you repeated, your grip tightening on the mug. “I told Fred it wasn’t working. That I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Alicia leaned back, crossing her arms. “Why?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Why do you think? Because we’re a disaster waiting to happen. Because the first time we tried this, it ended in flames, and now we’re just… ignoring all of it, hoping it’ll magically work this time. Spoiler: it won’t.”

Alicia’s brow furrowed. “Ignoring it? Are you serious?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, for someone who’s ‘ignoring it,’ you two seem to have a bloody hard time staying away from each other.”

You frowned, thrown off by her point.

“Think about it,” she pressed. “You’ve been living together, falling back into each other’s lives. Sure, maybe you weren’t talking about it, but you were doing something. You were letting yourself be close to him again.”

“That’s not the same thing as trying to fix it,” you countered, your voice shaky.

“No, it’s not,” Alicia admitted. “But it’s not nothing, either. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything being with him again. And don’t even think about lying to me, because I know you.”

You looked away, your chest tightening. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. It’s still going to end the same way. We’re just… Fred and I, we’re not meant to be.”

Alicia snorted. “Says who? You? Because from what I’ve seen, Fred seems pretty bloody convinced otherwise.”

Your jaw clenched, and you stared at the floor.

“Look,” Alicia continued, softening her tone. “I get it. You’re scared. You’re terrified of putting yourself out there again, of having it all fall apart a second time. That’s normal. But running away from it? That’s just—sorry, mate—stupid.”

You bristled, finally meeting her eyes. “It’s not stupid. It’s self-preservation. Do you know how much it hurt the first time? How much it broke me to lose him? I can’t do that again.”

“And what if you don’t lose him?” Alicia asked, leaning forward. “What if it actually works this time? You’ll never know if you keep running away.”

You opened your mouth to argue but hesitated.

Alicia sighed, her expression softening further. “Look, I know you think you’re saving yourself from the pain, but you’re also cutting yourself off from the happiness you could have with him. You’re assuming it’s going to end badly, but what if it doesn’t? What if this time, it’s different?”

“I just… I don’t know,” you murmured, your voice cracking.

“Then find out,” Alicia said gently. “You can’t keep running from something just because it’s scary. That’s not how love works. You have to fight for it, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”

Her words lingered in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. But as you sat there, sipping your tea and staring into the middle distance, a small, stubborn thought crept into your mind.

What if Alicia was right?

What if you owed it to yourself—and to Fred—to find out?

&

The hallway felt colder than you remembered. Or maybe it was the nerves pooling in your stomach, twisting tighter with every passing second.

You stood outside Fred’s flat, your hand hovering over the door as you debated knocking for the fifth time.

This is a mistake, your mind whispered. But Alicia’s voice was louder, pushing you forward. You’ll never know if you don’t try.

The peeling paint on the frame, the faint scuff marks on the floor where he always kicked his shoes off—it was all achingly familiar. And still, it felt like you didn’t belong here anymore.

But you were here. That had to count for something.

Your hand hovered over the door for what felt like forever before you finally forced yourself to knock.

The sound echoed in the quiet hallway, and for a moment, you considered running. The urge to flee was strong—you’d done it before. But then you heard shuffling from the other side of the door, followed by the unmistakable creak of the hinges.

Fred stood there, barefoot and in an old t-shirt that had seen better days, his hair sticking up in every direction like he’d been running his hands through it all morning. His face was unreadable, his mouth set in a hard line, but his eyes—those damn eyes—told you everything. They were wide and raw, flickering between surprise, confusion, and something you didn’t dare name.

For a second, neither of you said anything. You just stood there, staring at each other, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down like a heavy fog.

“I—” you started, your voice cracking.

But before you could say another word, Fred closed the space between you in one swift motion.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you to him as his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was urgent and messy, filled with all the words you hadn’t said and all the feelings you couldn’t quite explain.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, clutching at him as if he might disappear, and for a moment, everything else faded away. There was no fear, no doubt, no past mistakes—just Fred.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together as he refused to let you go.

“Fred,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Don’t,” he said quickly, his voice rough. His hands tightened on your waist, grounding both of you. “Don’t say it unless you mean it. I can’t—” His voice broke, and he shook his head like he was trying to push the words away.

“I’m not leaving,” you interrupted, your voice gaining strength. “I’m not running this time. I promise.”

Fred’s breath hitched, and his eyes searched yours, like he didn’t quite believe you yet. “You came back,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You nodded, your throat tight. “I was scared. I still am. But—” You swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “But I love you. I never stopped. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t. I want to try, Fred. Really try this time.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his brow furrowed like he was trying to make sense of what you’d said. Then, slowly, a soft, disbelieving smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Took you long enough.”

You laughed, a wet, shaky sound that was half relief, half exasperation. “You’re not exactly easy to figure out, you know.”

“And you’re impossible,” he shot back, his grin widening.

His words were teasing, but the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—made your heart ache.

“Fred, I’m sorry,” you said, your voice softening. “For leaving. For hurting you. I thought I was protecting myself, but I was just being a coward.”

Fred let out a shaky breath, his hands moving to cup your face. “I know,” he said quietly. “But you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

The weight of his words settled over you, warm and comforting, and for the first time in months, you felt like you could breathe again.

You stood there for a moment, letting the silence stretch between you, until a thought popped into your head and escaped before you could stop it.

“Can I move back in?”

Fred blinked, and then his laughter filled the hallway, rich and familiar and so very Fred. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re not getting your old room back,” he teased, his voice low and warm.

“Oh?” you said, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin softening. “You’re stuck with mine now.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Guess I can live with that.”

Fred’s smile turned tender, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that felt like a promise.

Home wasn’t a place. It was Fred.

[humanityinahandbag]

Steddie Halloween

Halloween after 'Spring Break' must be such a hard time for Steve. This is the guy that regularly hosted costume parties at his house during his King Steve era. And at some point probably hosted more laid back ones for the kids and Robin.

But since the Russian bunker he just... can't.

He has regular and more frequent night terrors of torture that had him and Robin shivering and holding onto one another like buoys. He's been dragged down into the depths of lakes by unseen monsters that left all kinds of scars. He gets migraines from moving too quickly or seeing strobing lights.

He carried Eddie's body out of the upside down, hands slippery in blood. He did CPR and felt Eddie's ribs crack under his hands. He looked at Eddie handcuffed to a hospital bed while doctors said we just don't know yet. Had to watch his Uncle, his father, sit by Eddie every day, rarely leaving his side, staring at his chest like he was grateful for each breath his boy took.

So. He's not really able to do Halloween anymore. And that's hard for him.

But whatever. He'll survive. He's fine to sit on the sidelines if it means the others will have a good time.

At this point, Steve was already coming to terms with his bisexuality. He'd already done a speed run through the Coming Out stages and walked out the other side with the eerie confidence only Steve Harrington could muster. This is a dude who has decided that he's going to flirt with Eddie until the other realizes and gets with the program. He knows Eddie likes him. He's a pro at dating and relationships and crushes. He just needs Eddie to figure out that the not so subtle hints mean something.

And then came Halloween.

He'd already told Eddie during a movie night about how much he missed the spooky season.

(And yes, he did discuss it while openly combing Eddie's hair back from his face and absolutely relishing in the way the other boy was turning all kinds of pink under the glow of the TV. Yes, Eddie was taking his time to catch up but no one said Steve couldn't have fun while he waited).

"Aw man. That sucks." Eddie barely managed to boot up his brain again to answer.

"It's fine," Steve would say, even though it wasn't.

And then, on October 31st, Steve wakes up to a maze in his backyard.

It's not a very good maze. It's mostly just tipped over pallets taken from behind Melvalds as the walls and tarps as the ceiling to block out some of the light. But it's so clearly meant to be some kind of a haunted hallway.

Steve is in boxers and a ratty Hawkins Swim Team t-shirt. He didn't take time to put on shoes, so he's walking across the cold concrete and the dewy grass in tube socks.

There's a sign posted on a piece of cardboard at the entrance.

ENTER IF YOU DARE

He stands there, shifting from foot to foot in his rapidly dampening socks, not quite sure what to do but intrigued nonetheless.

There's whispering and hushed voices from inside. And then Dustin is stomping out from around one of the pallet corners dressed in a suit that's clearly too small for him.

"Come on, dude. Can't you read? You're supposed to enter."

"It says enter if I dare."

"Yeah. So enter."

"What if I don't dare?"

Dustin rolls his eyes hard enough to make them stick, and honestly this kid and his tone.

"Can you just-" He groans. "Look. Eddie set this thing up and he and Robin dragged us all out of our beds at ass o'clock in the morning to put on these stupid haunted house costumes and wait around for you to wake up. So can you please just dare?"

Steve blinks. He looks at Dustin's suit. The tie is a little crooked and he's wearing bright yellow socks with his dress shoes. "I thought haunted house costumes were supposed to be... yunno... scary?"

"Yeah," said Dustin, gesturing to himself. "I'm the corporate grind."

And Steve can't do anything but laugh.

He goes through the little haunted maze. El was apparently having the time of her life and waves at him from a dead end, decked out a dress she made out of bits of stapled paper. "I am very frightening," she assured Steve. "I am overdue bills."

"That is very frightening," Steve agreed and ruffled her hair before going down another short hallway.

No one jumps out. There are no bright lights. Will had drawn decorations that they'd taped to the inside of the recycled plywood warning him of imposter syndrome and sleeping past your alarm and girls. Lucas at least put in a little more effort as a basketball player, though he had his knee wrapped in a bandage they must have picked up at the pharmacy and explained to Steve that the true horrors were being benched all season.

Max had refused to put on a costume and declared that she was scary all on her own.

Even Robin was there, waving at him. There was a cooler besides her. "This is the checkpoint," she said. "All the best haunted houses have checkpoints."

Apparently, the checkpoint included his migraine medication that he'd coincidentally forgotten to take that morning and a takeaway cup of lukewarm coffee.

"I tried to keep it warm!" She flapped her hands, waving them at the cardboard cup. "I literally held it between my knees and everything. But I had to help Eddie out last night to start building and-" she paused. "Shit. I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Forget I said that! Just- drink your coffee! Or don't! Is it warm enough? It's probably not. Fuck."

Steve is always shocked at how much more he loves Robin every day.

"It's good," Steve assured her, taking a sip. "Much scarier this way. Nothing scarier than a cold cup of coffee."

When he finally does make it to the end of the maze, Eddie is right there waiting. He's dressed as a vampire, with the stupid fake teeth and blood drawn down his chin with lipstick.

"You escaped the haunted maze!" Eddie put on a show of acting shocked, horrified, angry. His speech comes out garbled from behind the plastic teeth so it sounded more like you ethcaped the ha'ted mathe! It was endearing. Charming. Perfect. "My evil plan is foiled!"

Steve smiled. He looked back at the tarp and plywood and cardboard and duct tape. "You put this all together?" He turned back. "You built me a haunted house?"

Eddie's posturing paused. Despite how much he tried, there was little Eddie could do to hide the way he turned almost shy. He took out the teeth. "Uh. Yeah. But it's no big deal."

"It's kind of a big deal."

"It's really not," said Eddie. "Just- yunno. Figured you should be included." He brightened. "And this isn't everything! We've got a party planned at Joyce's tonight. Low music, we'll keep the lights on. Kids even picked out a movie, but I can't attest to the quality."

"You built me a haunted house."

"I... did." Eddie cleared his throat. He shoved the teeth back in. "But just so you know, it was all part of my evil plan. Which you foiled, My Liege!"

Steve stepped forward. "What was it?"

Eddie paused.

"The evil plan. What was it?"

"Oh. Uh." Eddie swallowed. "Keep you in my evil clutches forever?"

Steve beamed.

Robin had to usher a group of jeering kids away from the Harrington house. It was apparently too much for them to see Steve grab Eddie by the edges of his stupid vampire cape and tug him into a kiss.

"Dracula doesn't swoon," Dustin shouted back at them, covering his eyes.

"This one does," said Steve happily, before going back to work on a very shocked Eddie.

In the end, it did take Eddie a minute to catch up. Once his brain rebooted and he was able to comprehend that he was kissing Steve Harrington, the boy he'd loved since long, long ago.

He spends that night at the party sitting on the couch with his face buried against Steve's chest while the movie played. "You'd been flirting with me?"

"Mmmhm," said Steve, popping a candy corn into his mouth.

"This whole time?"

"Yup," said Steve.

"I wasn't imagining it?"

"Nope," said Steve.

"This is real?"

"Yup," said Steve, and dropped a kiss onto the top of Eddie's head.

"Okay," rasped Eddie. "Just checking."

"Learning how dumb you were being was the scariest thing this entire halloween," Dustin mumbled from the floor.