#do you really believe in him? is he a good kid? no problems? you're gonna love him. you're gonna love him.

[ysrjune]

omgomg what abt like reader and sam monroe are really good friends and he like has a thing for her in high dchool but she moves away n they run into eachother in the future AND HE LOOKS LIKE ANAKIN NOW.

(shut the fuck up this is so cute but like sad to me. im gonna sob 💔) also im literally listening to 'into you' by ariana grande, so that's why that's the title, ahaha 😈

Into You ✦

Sam had been a really good friend of yours since sophomore year. You didn't hang out with the same people at all, though. Sam hung out with a couple of druggies and ‘freaks’ while you were paired with ‘normal’ people.

You became friends with Sam because you had the same p.e class with him. He was often left alone and in the corner after walking 2 daily laps. Some guys even made fun of him, but Sam would always ignore them. Even your own girlfriends would make fun of him! You always felt bad for that poor boy.

So, one day you left your friends after walking 2 laps and went to the corner that Sam was always at. He didn't notice you at first, but once he did, he looked nervous. Why was a girl going up to him? The worse scenarios were going through his head. Maybe someone dared you to do that thing were you go up to a random kid and ask them out and if they say yes, you laugh and explain it was a dare.

When you finally stood in front of him, he glanced up anxiously and looked back down, waiting for you to just get it over with. “Hi, Sam.” You sweetly greeted with that charming smile of yours. He only nodded his head to your greet.

“Look, I know you're probably scared im gonna say or do something mean, but please trust me when I say I wanna be your friend.” and sat next to him. He was stunned at what you had said. You were so pretty and had a bunch of friends. Why do you wanna be his?

Sam messed with the stud inside his lip, making his labret move from the outside. “Just cause you feel bad doesn't mean you have to be my friend.” He softly spoke. Yeah, that was the big part of it, but you also believed everyone should have a friend.

It's not like Sam was completely friendless, but he was left out in a lot of his classes that his friends weren't in, and you wanted to change that. “Sam, I wanna be your friend because I think there's more to you than what people think.” He finally looked at you but still kept an emotionless expression. “Yeah, okay.”

And from then on, you bothered him every simple day during pe. You made him walk with you, run the miles with you, literally participate im everything in that class. He acted annoyed at first (which really, he loved the attention), but as time went by, he came around.

Sometimes, you'd ditch your friends to go inside the hallways or classrooms to spend lunch with Sam. You two became so close that he let you meet his mom, dad, step-dad, and little brothers.. and boy, did they love you.

The point has been made. You're close friends. Junior year was the year his biological dad died, but you helped him through it all. Especially with his drug problem. Since the last week of sophomore year, he's had a crush on you. At first, he tried to brush it off, telling himself that it's never gonna happen and to just keep you as a friend. You were the only one who genuinely cared anyway.

Sam had dated some girl named Alyssa for a while, which you hated. She was such a dirty hoe.. there were rumors that she kissed Sam's dad and that she told Josh to lie about never having sex with her, but come on, no one really believes that.

You tried to be happy for Sam, and you were for a little bit until Alyssa had a cow over you being too close with Sam. As a girl who's experienced the same, you understood and stopped talking to him for a while. Only giving him smiles and waves when you'd see him around.

What you didn't know is that when you stopped talking to him, he was really mad at Alyssa. “Alyssa, I love you, but you have to understand that she's the only one who really cared for me before you. I can't just stop talking to her like that. If I never met her, I'd probably would have already been dead because of how fucked up on drugs I was.” But she clearly didn't care.

She was so damn jealous that she wasn't the one who helped him through all that. Not only was she mad over that, but she was upset that you were prettier. Inside and out. She was so toxic with Sam, and everyone knew. His friends told him to just break up with her, but he didn’t want to. That poor boy was too scared.

At the end of 11th grade, he finally broke up with her, though, even though it was quick. All he said was that he was unhappy, and she used him for attention and that it was over. She didn't get a say in it because he walked away right after. And who did he immediately go to? You. He craved you so bad.

You had a boyfriend now, and he was so pissed. That should have been him. He was just too scared to say anything. Always seeing you hugging and kissing all over him was gut-wrenching. That whole breakup was right when the bell rang after school, so he planned to go to his house to freshen up and talk to you.

He knocked on the door around 6 in the afternoon just in case you were eating dinner at 4-5. Your mom opened the door, greeting him with a big hug since she hasnt seen him in so long. Let's just say things were awkward at first between you two at first, but after explaining everything, it was fine.

You gushed to him about Jesus, your boyfriend. Talking about how sweet and handsome he is.. Sam acted happy for your sake, but ooh, he was so jealous.

Stuff went back to normal, and you two became close again really quick. Sam met Jesus, and it went pretty well. Even if Sam was jealous/mad, he saw that Jesus really liked you and seemed like a good guy. What relieved him even more was that Jesus didn't mind your friendship.

“Oh, yeah. I had a homie who was on drugs and stuff. He didn't have anyone to help him out like that, so it's chill that you helped him out like that. I'd never get mad over him wanting to hang out, you know?” Your boyfriend explained one time when he was over.

You lasted with Jesus for a couple of months until the last few weeks of school because you were going to an out of state college. Sam didn't know that was the reason, though. He just saw it as a chance to finally confess. You two were sitting in an empty classroom together at lunch.

“Sam, we need to talk.” You speak softly. “We are talking.” He replies, eating a chip. “No, like. I have something serious to tell you.” His heart dropped. Were you gonna drop him? Did he do something wrong?

“What is it..” You friend replies with an anxious look plastered on his face. “I'm moving after graduation. Like, to an out of state college.” One part of Sam was happy, and the other was devastated. He finally got you back, and now you're leaving?

“Oh, um,” He looked to the floor. “That's great. Uh—not in the sense that, like, I want you to leave, but, you know. It's great that you have this opportunity.” He tried his best not to cry but failed. You two spent the whole time crying to each other, saying how much you'll miss each other.

But you'll keep in touch.. right?

—

You and Sam were bawling by the end of it. He was probably even sadder because it's not like he can tell you he likes.. no. Loves you, because what's the point?

He went along with you to the air port, saying goodbye. Hugging you hard and placing a kiss on your head. “Have a good time, okay? Have fun.” Sam says, eyes all red and droopy.

You nod, kissing his cheek and leaving a faint mark. Before he knew it, you were on that plane and gone. You swore that you were gonna call and visit for the holidays, but guess what! You didn't.

Spring break? No. Thanksgiving? Christmas? His birthday? Nope. He tried calling one time, but the number was out of service. That was the last straw. He was so mad at you.

He got over it after a year or so, too. He pushed himself to be more social and actually go out. His appearance changed, too. No more eyeliner or dressing in dark clothing. He even dyed his hair brown.

—

He kinda forgot about you since even after your four years at college were up, you stayed. You forgot about him too. Your new friends kept you busy all the time, along with your job.

Your look didn't change as drastically as Sam's. Your style of clothing changed a little, and so did your attitude. Back then, you were such a goody two shoes. Now, you go out amd party and break the rules more often. Nothing totally illegal, but you get it.

You still talked to your parents every night. They asked so many times to come visit you because they're getting old (a little dramatic, but it was still true) so you finally said yes after 6 years of not seeing them.

Your cousin had picked you up from the airport, thrilled to see you. She was chatting it up and telling you about everything that has been going on since you left. Then it hit you. Sam Monroe, that emo boy you loved so much probably still lived here. Your cousin knew him back then, too, so maybe she knows what hes been up to.

“Oh, girl. He's like, a totally different person. Dyed his hair, became more talkative.. like, literally. A bunch of girls from high school like him cause they realized how handsome he is, I guess.” She keeps babbling on about him to you. He changed a lot, it seems. But there was no way you were gonna try and go look for him. You knew he was more than likely mad at you for not calling and visiting.

Your parents had invited a bunch of people over for a welcome home party. They were all in the backyard, though. So, you had time to get ready. Sam was left in your mind while you showered and got ready. How different could he really look?

After you get ready, you make your way to the backyard, greeting aunts and uncles, cousins, and family friends, but most importantly, your parents. You were smothered by your mom's kisses and practically crushed by your dads hugs. They missed their little girl.

You drank with your cousins and played party games while the older adults watched and laughed at you, losing almost every round, causing you to face the penalty and take a shot.

By the end of the night, you were so drunk. No memory of what happened that night when you woke up in the morning. Confused in your old room, you groan and whine. A headache was bothering you, and you felt super weak, but you remembered that your dad wanted you to go to the hardware store with him to pick up a few tools.

You knew he would offer to just let you stay and rest, but you haven't seen him in so long and wanted to spend as much time with him as you could. With another groan, you force yourself to get up and shower. You didn't even bother to put on makeup or do your hair.. not even to wear a cute outfit.

Sweats with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of slippers was your choice. Your mom gave you something quick to eat before leaving with dad. The store was close by, so the ride there wasn't too long. Dad asked about everything you did over where you live.

Ex boyfriends, the classes you took, and a lot of other things were talked about, even when you got off the car and entered the store. You talked his ear off while he was looking through the aisles. One thing about dad was that he's never at the hardware store just for what he actually needs.

Normally, he'd tell you to shut up with all your talking because, well.. you're a chatterbox. but this was an exception since he hasn't seen you for a long time. Half an hour passed by before he asked you to go get something for him in aisle 12.

You looked and looked around that aisle for what seemed like forever trying to find a specific tool dad asked for. A groan escapes your throat, and before you know it, you are asked a question by a worker.

“Need any help, ma’am?” His voice was soft and calm. You turned around to see a very tall, muscular man with tanned skin, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was very handsome. So handsome that he left you speechless, and it was sort of weirding him out.

“Ma’am.” He repeated himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. You knock out of your trance and visibly cringed at yourself. “Sorry, um. Yes, I need help.” You respond with a nervous tone. “Yeah? Okay, what do we need?”

“A shovel.” You reply, trying to avoid eye contact. The man laughed a little, shaking his head. “Well, this definitely isn't the aisle where you'll be finding those.” Great, now you look stupid. Did dad send you to the wrong one on accident? Who knows. You just felt really stupid.

“Come on, n/n, I'll show you.” He says and starts walking away. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that he had just called you your nickname. What the fuck? How does he know that? Wait.

No, there's no way. This guy looks nothing like the one you had in mind. “Here ya are.” He interrupts your thoughts. “Oh, thank you,” You squint to look at his name tag. It was him. “Sam.”

“Did it really take you that long to realize?” He snickered and set his hands on his hips. “But I guess I can't blame you, though, huh? I look nothing like I did when you left.” Of course, he had to add that last part. Now you were sure he was pissed about what happened.

“Yeah..” was all you replied while literally checking him out. he didn't mind it. He knew he was handsome. His confidence grew a lot while you were away. “So, anyway. I'd recommend this one.” He quickly changed the topic.

—

He talked to you for a little while in that same spot. About why you left and why you didn't call back—but he was so mature about it. He wasn't angry or sad.. he was just asking like if it was normal. He even walked you back to where your dad was at, and said hi.

It made you smile to hear him ask for your new number. “Just so you know, I'm taking you out tonight, and you can't say no. Pick you up at 8.” He smiles at you. You shake your head and smile again. “Okay, see you then.”

—

errrm part 2 when 🤔

tags, @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 🎀

[hoshigray]

I WANT TOJI TO GUIDE ME (like literally almost teach me) HOW TO GIVE HIM HEAD PLZZZZ

Ohhhh, I don't know how tf I'm gonna write this, but here we go!! Hope I did alright on this one hehehe~ *sweats nervously*

Cw: Toji x fem!reader - oral (m! receiving) - it starts off cute but gets dirty, so minors DNI - reader admiring Toji's dick lol - face+throat-fucking (Toji goes at a reasonable pace) - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, sweetie, mama) - heavily detailed descriptions of a blowjob - praise - Toji laughing at you asking him to help bc what are boyfriends for, but you get a laugh out of it too - some humor. Wc: 2.8k

"You okay, kid?"

"Hmm?"

"You look lost in thought about somethin'."

"I do?" He lifts a brow and nods at you. "Oh, it's nothing, Toji, honest." The man looks at you for a few seconds as if he doesn't believe your answer, yet he goes back to watching the television, and the big hand on your shoulder brings you closer to him.

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and Toji are watching your favorite sitcom on the couch in your living room. But the show wasn't capturing your attention like it usually does. Instead, your mind wandered to other matters. Other...explicit matters.

How explicit? The two of you have been together for a long while now, and you can honestly say things have been going great. For him to be your first serious relationship — plus him being older and more mature than you — it's nice to know that things have been going way smoother than you'd thought in the beginning.

Although things may seem fine, something has been clouding your head recently. This is where explicit matters come into the conversation.

Through all this time together, it just occurred to you that you haven't given Toji head. Scratch that: you've NEVER given a blowjob, period.

It's always been the other way around. Not that you're complaining, because your boyfriend seems to enjoy eating you out. And he's actually good at it! Like, really good at it. Just reminiscing all the moments he's had you turn into jelly with just his scarred lips and relentless tongue is enough to make you go dizzy.

It's a pleasure how attentive he is to you during sex. And you appreciate that he cares for you in that regard...yet you can't help but feel like you're not a good partner in bed with your lack of reciprocity.

And it's not like you don't want to give him head. Because trust, you would've done so already! The real problem is that...you don't know how.

You've watched videos and read articles on how to do it, even practicing on a banana (per your friend's advice). Nevertheless, whenever you wish to initiate; or the opportunity arises, you just freeze on the spot and force yourself to forget about it. It's as if researching and amping yourself up is way easier than the execution.

Though, you can't just let your man be the only person doing the work — sex is supposed to be enjoyable for both parties, damn it! And you're gonna push yourself to have his dick in your mouth one way or the fucking other! But......where the hell do I start!!??

You release a defeated sigh, bringing your hand up to massage your forehead from the endless banter in your brain. And Toji watches you from his peripheral, his brows drawing downward at your display of frustration. "Alright," his gruff voice snaps you back to him as he lowers the TV volume. "What's goin' on in your lil' head, baby?"

You blink at his question. "Hmm? What do you—"

"Aht aht, don't do that with me." His jade eyes harden, and you hold back from finishing whatever you were going to say. "Somethin's wrong, so tell me. I'm over here watchin' this stupid show that you dragged me on to, and you're not even paying attention."

"Hey! It is not stupid," you counterargue, and use his comment to dissuade him from the topic. "You were very invested last week when my favorite character punched the guy she likes for stabbing her in the back! So who are you to—"

"Y/n." It didn't work. Your name was thrown at you with such seriousness that there was no use in trying to distract him. "Tell me what's goin' on. If somethin' is bothering you, don't be scared to come to me about it." He says it sternly, yet he's still gentle with his delivery.

"Toji..." You can only call him by name before he leans forward to kiss your forehead, and it almost melts all your worries away.

"Tell me."

The two of you look at each other for mere seconds, you searching for any sign of uncertainty before confessing your thoughts to him. You sigh once more and lean onto Toji, his hand rubbing on your shoulder — a silent gesture of him giving you all the time you need before confiding with him.

You told him, "Don't laugh, okay?"

He scoffs. "Can't make promises I can't keep, kid." His smile manifests when you shake your head at his shenanigans. "I won't laugh, angel."

When he uses the pet name on you, it seals the deal. It's now or never.

"I was just thinking that...I might need your help with something."

A brow is lifted. "With what?"

"Umm, it's..." Your fingers find each other to fiddle with to keep you busy from the awkward tension. "It's for......y-you know—"

"I don't know."

"I-ahem-I want," you can only gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob in your throat. ".........Iwannagiveyouablowjob."

No words. No movements. Nothing. Only the noise from the TV gives a sense of life to the silence following your confession. Even the big hand on your shoulder chose to remain completely still. And you can feel the slight quiver of your lips start to come to fruition.

Nothing happens until you feel a jolt on the shoulder you're resting on. Your face blooms hot, and your lips can't fight the uncomfortable twinge. Oh, this motherfucker is about to laugh.

"Is...Is that—ahem," A tiny gust of wind exits through his nostrils, trying to extinguish the beginning of a chortle. "Is that what was botherin' you this entire time?"

Now your ears get hot, and all you can think about is how you'll dig a nice big hole for yourself to crawl in later. God, why me??!

"W-Well, I mean, I notice how you're always doing it on me," another jolt from the older man. "And...I just feel like I'm not doing my part." He lifts his hand from your shoulder and rests it on his face. Fits of chuckles silently enter the air. "But I don't know how to....do that kinda stuff. So, I was just wondering—" He starts smacking his thigh, and with the twitch of your eyebrow, you've had enough. "Toji, I swear to Christ, if you don't fucking stop—"

And with that, the floodgates opened. The laughs he was doing a terrible job suppressing wheezed out, his hand covering his eyes while the shit-eating grin was present with laughter seeping out his system. You cover your face with your hands, shielding away from the embarrassment and not letting him hear giggles of your own.

"Oh shit, c'mere ya damn cutie." Toji pulls you in with both arms, caging you so he can place a kiss on your temple. "Pfft, kid, I'm not laughing at you. But goddamn, you looked so fuckin' stressed fr' no reason."

"But it is a reason!" You chuckle under your hands, only prompting your boyfriend to laugh harder. Once he calms down, you explain yourself further. "Toji, I'm serious. We've been together for this long, and it's always been me getting eaten out. I just think it's unfair that I get to feel good and you don't, ya know?"

He snickers. "I'm always feelin' good when I fuck the shit out of you."

"You KNOW that's not the same thing!!" Toji barks a laugh from you yelling at him, and you can't take this anymore. Removing yourself from him, you get up from the couch before you sink further into the internal pool of regret. "Just forget it. This conversation never happened...I'll just go to sleep." And hopefully, die of suffocation from my pillow.

However, before you could step toward your bedroom, Toji quickly caught your wrist. You reluctantly turn to see him looking at you with a playful smirk and soft hooded emerald eyes. "Not so fast there, sweetie." His hand slides down to fully grasp your hand, engulfing it with his size. "Ya know, you're a real cutie when worryin' about me. But don't go thinking you're not making me feel good, because you do with what you got. I woulda found someone else if you didn't." You briefly glare at him, though you know he has a point.

"Yeah, I know. But I want to do more. You always take good care of me, so...I wanna do the same for you." And Toji knows you're serious about this. It doesn't matter if you can't look directly at him because of your bashfulness; your words are sincere. God, you looked so cute it drove him crazy.

He sighs quietly with a smirk, his thumb making circles on the back of your palm. "Well, if you're really sure about putting y'r mouth on my dick," and before you could fully process his words, the older man spreads his legs for your eyes to observe. And the first thing that corrupts your vision is the outline of his erect cock, the tent prominent through his dark sweatpants. "Looks like ya got yourself a lesson. Up for it?"

You gawk at his erection for three extra seconds before you look at your boyfriend and give him a nod for confirmation. Seems like your plans of suffocation and dying in a hole have been postponed to another day.

Toji grins hard, his teeth peeking through under his scar, and then he points to the floor with his chin. As instructed, you kneel between his legs.

He pulls down the waistband of his sweatpants, freeing his cock from the clothed prison for you. And you're in awe with the sight before you. Of course, you've known his girth to be immense. You've had the damn thing inside you, for God's sake. But now, seeing his length so close, it's hard to believe you had him before. You can take note of every dent and vein of his shaft, how they structure all the way down to the base, and the pinkish-red color of the tip. It all overwhelms you and makes you second-guess what you're about to do...and the throbbing sensation down south flourishes.

"Like what ya see down there, angel?" The heat on your face worsens when you glance up and see Toji sneering down at you, and a hand comes down to massage your cheeks. "Try lickin' it first."

You gulp before following his suggestion, opening your mouth for your tongue to flick on the frenulum of his cock. You can hear him moan from the action, so you proceed and lap around the head of his cock until you feel adventurous enough to take his glans in your mouth. Toji groans from the wet walls of your mouth, and your teeth brushing against his glans makes his body jerk. "Hmmm, be careful with y'r teeth, baby. Relax that jaw and puff those cheeks a bit fr' me."

His comments are taken wholeheartedly, making sure everything goes right for him. Your cheeks go hollow for you to suck his cockhead and take in a few more of his length, his hums of pleasure egging you on. It goes well until the tip hits your uvula, resulting in your gag reflex. And Toji is quick to gently pull you from him, your saliva coating his dick.

"Woah there, sweetie. Don't forget to breathe." He coaxes while you cough. Your eyes start to water as you gasp for air to even your breathing. "We can stop now, don't want you chokin' on— Aisssh!!."

He's unable to finish his sentence when your hand strokes his cock, paired with kisses to the underside of his shaft. "No, I can keep going." You look at him with half-lidded eyes, having the man twinge his lips upward.

"Alright, then we're gonna go slow, okay? No rush." He aligns his cock to your lips, waiting for re-entry. "I'll push, and you breathe."

You give him a nod to signal you're ready, and your mouth agape to take in his returning limb. Toji brings your head in while you remind yourself to breathe, but your body jolts when you feel the tip come almost close to your uvula again. "Relax, mama, relax. Keep taking deep breaths fr' me." He coos at you, and you do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Once you slowly move, Toji aids you by gently pushing the back of your head toward him. And a wave of astonishment and relief hits you when you manage to have his dick hit the back of your throat.

"There ya go, cutie." He smirks at you, aware of your tiny display of giddiness. "Now, try goin' at your own pace."

With a few bobs up and down, slowly but surely, you get used to having Toji's cock in your oral cavity, going at your own tempo and enjoying yourself with this. Your movements are filled with confidence, and you whimper every time you try to go as far as you can but not too crazy.

And Toji loves every second of it. Your moans vibrate the walls around his cock, and it turns him on even more when he peers down to see you suck on him so deliciously. Spit covers your lips the more you take him in your mouth, and he groans when he feels your hands stroking him and kneading his balls (something you've learned to do from the articles you've read). "So good...Hmmph! So fucking good..." It's been a long time since Toji's been given a blowjob, and it feels so good to have you — his sweet thing — do it for him.

But then a thought pops into his mind, and the pleasure in his body churns into a different path of want and need. "Sweetie." Your eyes flutter up at him when he calls you, stopping midway through. "Wanna go a lil' further than this?" It takes a moment for you to register, but you give a curt nod with a hum on his dick, which he can only assume is a "yes."

"I'm gonna stand up, okay? So keep taking deep breaths and follow my lead." You don't answer, only gaze at him as you mentally prepare yourself. Toji rests a hand at the rear of your head as he gets up from the couch, keeping you still on his cock in hopes you don't choke. Now he's standing upright, and his sweatpants slide down to his sturdy thighs. He places both his hands on each side of your head. "I'm gonna start moving slowly, 'kay baby?"

And so he does, unhurriedly pushing his shaft into you, and your hands find purchase on his thighs as he does so. His dick that once stopped at the back of your throat eventually finds its way deeper within, and you're senses are clouded with his smell when your nose and mouth meet his pelvis. It all feels so overwhelming that tears start to form.

Toji lets you adjust to all of him for a while, grinding his hips on your lips to fully accommodate his whole girth, prompting more muffled mewls from you. He ruts his hips at your face when he notes your steady breathing. Gradually, every inch of his cock sinks into your mouth. Your head starts to pound as you enter a haze.

The pace of his thrusts eventually goes faster and faster by the minute, and the tears finally come down with every jab to your throat. Saliva runs down your chin with the smack of his balls, the head bullying your insides with the erratic rhythm. Your nails form scratch marks on his thighs from all the stimulation you're going through, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't feel so fucking good. Having your boyfriend's pelvis smack on your face on par with the sounds of you sucking him off felt like fire to your eardrums. So hot but so electrifying the more you indulge yourself.

As for the older man fucking the hell out of your face? Oh, how he missed this. It's been so long since he stuck his dick on such a pretty mouth. And your throat's tight, velvety walls have him rutting for more. He knew this would make his thirst return, and now he was sure an addiction would form from this. But right now, he can feel the surge of his orgasm arise, and his brows crease with a guttural groan as he thrusts into your face with harsh motions.

"Shit, ahhhhh shit, shit," It's so close, almost there. "Gonna cum, mama, gonna—Mmmm! Haaah, oh fuck, oh fuckin' Christ!" Through his moans of pleasure, Toji releases his load down your throat. And you're in no other position than to just take it, whimpering blissfully onto his length as he gives you a few more ruts to your face.

When he's done experiencing his ecstatic high, the older man withdraws himself from you. Your throat and mouth become empty except for his essence that you swallow. Strands of spit and come connect your wet face to him for a crude yet intimate moment before they break out.

He pulls up his sweatpants and drops down to wipe your pretty face with his hand. "So? Was I a good teacher?"

[persphonesorchid]

Auburn Skies - MYG

Summary:  Everyone knows that if your best friend has a little sister, she's off limits. That, and the fact that your best friend will probably kill you if you even think about going near his sister. Yoongi knows this. There's no way he could tell Namjoon that once upon a time you kissed him, drunk in his living room after a break up. So much time's passed since then, too much time to bring it up now, but Yoongi still thinks about it, he's still a little hopeful. Now you're here at the lake house because Namjoon brought you and you clearly have something you want to say to Yoongi. 

Namjoon's gonna kill him.

Genre: 18+, fluff, angst, humor.

Word count: 12k

Warning(s): 18+, smut, oral (m+f receiving) unprotected sex, porn is mentioned. Yoongi and Y/n are BOTH stupid and they need help. Taehyung's trying his best, Seokjin is also trying his best but subtler. Yoongi's convinced that Namjoon's out to get him at every turn. Slight jealousy. Y/n and Yoongi have no idea how to actually hold a conversation like adults, until they do.

Notes: My addition to the Autumn Leaves Collab, hosted by the beautiful @bangtansmauyeondan !! I had so much fun working on this, and I met so many beautiful people that I'm so grateful for, so happy to call my friends 🥺 I love y'all! Please check out the other authors' fics on the Collab Masterlist! Everyone worked so hard, give my girls some love! Shout out to @blog-name-idk and @xpeachesncream for being absolute aNGELS, beta reading and helping me out when I panicked over this lol, and @madbutgloriouspond for helping me brainstorm. I hope you guys enjoy!! Please leave feedback, I'm nothing but a poor soul seeking validation (and motivation!) to keep going.

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"You're staring." Seokjin nudges Yoongi's arm with his, snapping him out of his daze. He catches Seokjin's smirk, and there's a twinkle in his eye that promises nothing good. Yoongi pulls his eyes away from your form, sitting in a chair on the dock away from everyone else with a book in your hand. You're bundled up in a thick sweater and cozy sweatpants, completely lost in your book.

"Was not." Yoongi feels the need to deny it, distracting himself with cutting up onions, focusing on the way the blade of the knife cuts through the vegetable and definitely not the way Seokjin was wiggling his eyebrows at him.

"Sure. I believe you."

Somewhere inside, there is music playing. A Lo-Fi beat that plays softly under the sound of rain. It's kind of sad, if Yoongi is being honest, but he supposes that autumn is a sad season. Nothing but changes all around. The leaves change colours, mixing like paint on an easel in the hands of a melancholy artist drowning in his own solitude. They shift and the vibrancy of summer fades until they die, falling off their homes to go drifting in the wind, or land on the ground to become everyone's problem.

He doesn't really like autumn, when winter is right around the corner and he can feel the cold seeping into his bones no matter how many layers he wears. Always leaving his cheeks and his nose red, and his fingers hurting when the chill gets to them.

You enjoy it though, even reminded him when he picked up you and Namjoon this morning. You were kicking at the pile of leaves in front of Namjoon's apartment complex like a kid, laughing like you didn't have a worry in the world. You greeted him like you hadn't seen him in years, running up to him with Namjoon's scarf wrapped awkwardly around your neck like you were in a rush.

Namjoon is currently skipping stones with Jungkook near the lake's edge, and Yoongi can see he's halfway to giving up because Jungkook is on his competitive streak again.

Namjoon is one of his closest friends. He met him in college when they were both fresh out of highschool and riding on shotgun dreams of being more than what they are. He remembers meeting you during spring break of his junior year, and you were blabbering about getting accepted into the same college as Namjoon; determined to follow your brother to the end of time.

The only word to describe your first meeting was awkward, to say the least. He'd only ever heard of you, with Namjoon going off about you whenever Yoongi lent his ear. His baby sister who was doing so well in school, his baby sister, who to Namjoon, practically hung the moon in the sky. Now, Yoongi thinks he's naturally awkward when meeting new people, he can't help it. Getting to know someone is hard no matter how much you hear about them, even though you've got a pretty good impression just by word of mouth. There were shy 'hi's' and the most soul crushing 'See you later's' when there's little to no chance of ever seeing that person again. Sweaty, nervous hands meeting in shakes and straight lipped smiles.

Now, Yoongi was sure he wasn't too bad at it. And you were good, smiling brightly, not looking as awkward as he felt. What was awkward was the way Namjoon had excused himself to his parent's kitchen, pretending to get a glass of water. Yoongi had followed him with his eyes, because why was he leaving him standing in front of his sister alone?

Yoongi still remembers the chill that went down his spine that morning, as Namjoon watched him dead in the eyes over your head. A look Yoongi had never once received from him before, one that simply said: "If you think anything about my sister that isn't innocent; you will die."

As a best friend, Yoongi respected that. As a man, Yoongi valued his life. He wouldn't dare. It's the code, do not, under any circumstances, think about your best friend's sister romantically or less. You were off limits from the day Namjoon showed Yoongi that picture of you.

Off limits.

Yoongi heard that loud and clear and Namjoon hadn't said a word that day.

You were off limits, still, when you'd called him at ass o'clock in the morning - not Namjoon, your brother who trusted with everything - about some smarmy asshole who thought it was funny to break your heart. When he picked you up outside a bar where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend of a year, standing in the rain, soaked to the bone, crying and slightly drunk.

Looking beautiful even when you had stumbled your way to his car, asking what did you do to deserve getting cheated on. He didn't answer you then, he had too much to say and it wasn't the time, not when you were drunk and wouldn't remember a thing when the sun came up. So he cranked up the heat in his car, and white knuckled the steering wheel the whole drive to his apartment, because yours was too far and it was late.

Off the whole damn table, when you'd kissed him on the mouth, still drunk, still crying and clinging onto him in his living room. He pushed you gently away, even as he licked his lips to chase the taste of you. Keeping the distance between you both wide as he watched you shatter like glass in his hold. You apologized through your sobs, and Yoongi's own heart broke as he tried and failed to pick up the pieces of yours scattered at your feet.

You asked him not to tell Namjoon, and Yoongi never said a damn word. You slept in his bed that night, in his clothes that were way too big for you, and left the next day like nothing happened.

You're still off limits now, even as you've grown up and are going into your senior year. Now that Yoongi finished college and had a job like a responsible adult, now his biggest worry is the price of bread climbing up and whatever the hell was on the news.

"Namjoon, we agreed that you weren't gonna come within 10ft of this space."

Yoongi looks up to find Namjoon wandering aimlessly towards them, holding a bowl of something in his hand. He stops dead in his tracks though, frowning, "I'm not that clumsy."

Yoongi and Seokjin share a look, before raising an eyebrow each at Namjoon. He sighs, lifting the bowl in his hand, "Hobi told me to tell you that Jungkook told him..."

"For Christ's sake..." Seokjin sighs, "Just get over here."

Namjoon grins like a kid, hobbling over to place the bowl next to Yoongi's busy hands. The bowl filled with slices of pork belly that Yoongi forgot he told Namjoon to fetch for him a long while ago. Too distracted to ask about it when he was skipping stones with Jungkook, he didn't even notice when he'd moved to get it.

He wonders what else he missed, lost in his own thoughts, and his eyes dart around to catch sight of you. Of course, you were no longer in the spot you'd claimed, now standing next to Jungkook. Both of you are laughing at Jimin, who was struggling to reach a branch of a tree that Jungkook could easily reach without stretching. You attempt it, jumping to reach, but you just don't make it and it's Jimin's turn to laugh, all crescent eyes and round cheeks.

At least someone's having fun.

Seokjin was mumbling something as he pokes at the coals in the grill, and Yoongi avoids looking at Namjoon because he realised he's staring again. He's awfully quiet, and Yoongi isn't sure if it's because of him, and he really doesn't want to risk his life here.

"'Autumn is the season that teaches us that change can be beautiful.'" Namjoon says, and Yoongi finds that he wasn't even looking his way. Instead, he was watching the lake with an odd look in his eyes, distant, like if he was thinking about something too hard and struggling to grasp it. At the same time though, he looked like he knew exactly what he was talking about; smiling to himself. He pats Yoongi cryptically on the back - a little forcefully - catching him off guard, and says nothing more as he walks away.

"We all know what it means when Joon starts quoting." Seokjin snickers, "You're so screwed."

Yoongi hums, and Seokjin gives him a knowing look, a look that says way more than what Yoongi is comfortable with, and he wonders, briefly, if he was being obvious, or if Seokjin was more observant than he gave him credit for.

"I hope the weather holds up." Seokjin mumbles, head tilted up and leaning slightly forward over the table to see past the awning above, he watches the sky with a small frown, "Said it was gonna rain sometime today."

Yoongi is grateful for the subject change, dumping the seasoning he chopped up into a bowl. He glances at the lake, at the reflection of the clouds on the water, they look a little gray with the promise of rain. He doesn't mind the rain, though, if it does, Taehyung's plan of sitting around the fire with marshmallows on a wire would be completely dashed.

Yoongi's not sure he could deal with the kid pouting all night because of it, and he hoped that the weather held up, too.

When lunch was ready, it was a little after two pm. The picnic table was clear of leaves that were raked to the side and into piles to deal with later. Hoseok finally crawled out of the bunk room, hair sticking up in odd angles and eyes sleepy still as he helped set the table with you and Jimin.

Yoongi walks over to the table with the small cooler he'd brought with him, packed full with ice and cans of beer, because what's lunch without it?

Seokjin walks behind, still prattling on about the weather, hoping for a little sunshine later on so he could get in the rowboat and swing his fishing rod around. He may have asked Yoongi if he wanted to come with him, but Yoongi was once again distracted; your soft laugh tunnelling his focus.

He sighs, internally, because God forbid anyone hears and starts asking invasive questions. Taehyung, of course, was clinging to you, not letting you move two spaces out of his orbit. Which of course, wasn't strange, Taehyung was just clingy that way; always stuck to someone like a kitten that hasn't yet learned to regulate its temperature.

The sight of it though, makes Yoongi's chest ache in a way that wasn't unfamiliar to him. The kind of ache that squeezes tight and knocks the air out of him, the ache he felt that night in his apartment living room when you kissed him. Thinking about it now makes the ache worse, because Yoongi knows what that kiss was, he knows what it meant and exactly where it came from. You were reeling that night, fresh out of a relationship that ended in a way you never saw coming, and that's where it came from. You were drunk, hurting, and attached yourself emotionally to the first person to treat you nicely.

It just happened to be Yoongi at the time.

He hates to think about it that way, as though it meant nothing when he wanted it to mean something. Yoongi likes to take things the way they came, there's nothing more than what it was, nothing to decipher or to sit and mull over. Not like he did that night, sitting up late on his couch, long after you'd passed out, then beating himself up about the whole thing because he was this close to laying his heart out at that moment.

He's glad he didn't. When you left the morning after, he wasn't even awake, woke up to his empty bed and quiet apartment. No note, no text - not that you owed him anything - so he left it as it was; unspoken.

He passes everyone a beer, avoiding your gaze when your hand brushes his, ignoring the soft smile on your lips that brightens your eyes and makes his chest hurt. He moves around the table and takes his seat in between Seokjin and Hoseok. He's sitting directly across from you, and to his rotten luck, Namjoon sits to your left, which puts Yoongi within his direct line of sight. He wonders if he'll be able to keep his eyes to himself, not get caught staring at you, even if your brother wasn't even paying him mind. Yoongi is cautious, still.

The chatter that fills the air is gentle, with laughs and catching up with each other. It was hard to find the time to do things like this, everyone was busy with their own schedules; the younger ones had school, the rest of them had work. Shit always get in the way.

Yoongi eyes Taehyung, who sits to your right and was poking at your arm more than he was eating. He had half a mind to tell Taehyung to quit it, the little devil on his shoulder telling him that he should; poking at his cheek and pointing. It isn't his place, though.

There's a twinkle in Taehyung's eye when their eyes meet, something mischievous that Yoongi would normally see from him when he was up to something. He turns slightly to you, whispering something to you with a hand covering the movement of his lips.

Yoongi's curious, he wonders what he's saying that makes your cheeks flush a pretty shade. Wonders what it is, when your eyes meet his for a second and you swat at Taehyung's hand. The younger man was clearly pleased with himself, smiling eyes meeting Yoongi's for a second too long, and Yoongi busies himself with stuffing his mouth with food.

"Think the water's cold?" Jungkook was looking out at the lake, doe eyes curious, his tongue absently fiddling with the ring in his lip.

"It's still early in the season..." Jimin answers, piling a spoonful of rice onto his plate, following Jungkook's gaze a moment after. "Wouldn't risk it though."

"I mean, you can if you want." Yoongi shrugs, "Just don't complain when you catch a cold."

Jungkook pouts, leaning his weight against Hoseok with a groan. Everyone knows Jungkook well enough to know that's exactly what he'd do, and then abuse his position as the youngest for the rest of their stay at the lake house.

The table was silent for a while, everyone occupied with stuffing their faces with the food, interrupted when Namjoon laughed at something Jimin said and choked on the rice in his mouth and is now nursing a bottle of water.

Yoongi missed this, just hanging out with his friends like they were back in college sneaking beer into the dorms and laughing over their drunken rambles. Just being.

Once lunch was over, they cleared the table of the bowls and plates, carrying everything inside to be washed up.

"I'll do the dishes," Hoseok says, balancing the large pot with plates and eating utensils in his hands.

"I'll do them, Hobi." Yoongi takes the pot from Hoseok's lax fingers, not giving him room to complain before he takes everything to the kitchen.

Yoongi misses the way Taehyung pokes your side, he did hear the smack of you hitting the offending limb, though. "I'll help you."

Yoongi feels his shoulders tense, and he tries to ignore it, setting the pot into the sink, while the boys place the other dirty dishes. He watches you for a moment, as you busy yourself packing away the seasoning and packets of spices back into their rightful places. He starts on the dishes, hyper aware of your presence somewhere behind him, but tries his best to keep it as far from the front of his mind as he could.

At some point, you switch places, and Yoongi takes up the task of drying the bowls and plates, packing them where they're supposed to be. He doesn't question it, just grateful to have something to do with his hands, mindful, to keep his head empty, because if his mind strays just a bit, he'll be thinking of things he really shouldn't. Off limit things. Like how he wished he'd just suck it up and kissed you back that night instead of pushing you away like he did. But, that would've been wrong of him, no? It wasn't the time and you weren't in the right frame of mind.

Yoongi skirts by you, packing the bowls back into the cupboard. This is awkward, maybe he should have let Hoseok do it when he said he would.

"Can I ask you something?" You suddenly ask, and Yoongi almost drops the bowl he's holding, not expecting you to speak because you've been so quiet. He glances over to the living room, where Namjoon and Jin are starting up a game of Mario Kart before he turns to look at you. Why does he always do that? It feels as though he's sneaking around for no reason whatsoever, always looking to make sure that Namjoon isn't looking at him.

"Uh, sure?" God, is it just him that's awkward? You look perfectly fine, elbow deep in soap water, scrubbing away at something in the sink, a small smile on your lips. Yoongi wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans, bringing them back up to stuff them into the pockets of his sweater. Play it cool, Min. "What's up?"

You turn your head, looking at him, and he swallows. The sink slowly drains, making that odd sucking noise as the water goes down and you look like you're struggling to grasp your words. There's a cute furrow between your brows, and Yoongi doesn't miss the way you bite your lip and look everywhere but at him.

Jin swears at Namjoon in rapid fire, in that way he does when he's got too much to say and not enough breath. Yoongi could see his arms flying up and swatting at Namjoon's shoulder, yelling about the blue shell he threw.

You take a breath, eyes settling somewhere above his head, clearly trying to block out Jin's racket, "Well...um..." You glance at him and look away, and Yoongi's just a little hopeful.

You look nervous, for once, wringing the life out of the dish towel in your hand as you press your lips together. There's a crease at your brow and Yoongi wonders what's bugging you. There were times when you'd freely spill your thoughts, up with him all ungodly hours just talking because that's what brother's best friends do, right? Offer comfort and a space to vent that isn't in the viewpoint of your sibling? He wonders what changed.

He knows though. It was that night, after that, things have been tense between you both, Yoongi just wishes it'd stop. He misses you texting him to tell him how your day went, or you constantly reminding him that he's way cooler than your older brother. He watches you now, if just to see you get even more flustered, even though he didn't know why.

Hope is an evil, never necessarily a good thing, if all it does is make you believe that something would work even though there's a slim chance that it actually would. Yoongi hates that he's hopeful right now. Hates that he's hoping that the flush of your cheeks and your nervous fidgeting has something to do with him, he hates that he wished you'd just spit it out already and stop his mind from coming up with all these things.

"Okay." You sigh, nodding more to yourself in a self-assured kind of way. Your eyes find his, briefly, before darting away, "Okay, so, I wanted to-"

"Hey, Y/n. Wanna play a round of Mario Kart with me?" Taehyung asks, walking into the kitchen with a smile, eyes filtering between you and Yoongi before they settle on you again. He pauses when you snap your mouth shut, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and slowly look at him. You and Taehyung share a look that Yoongi's not too certain he wants to know what's about; the silence between you three is too loud.

"What?" the younger man asks, "Did I interrupt something?"

"No."

"Yes."

Yoongi stares at Taehyung, trying his hardest not to glare at him, because what you wanted to say was clearly important. You were staring at him, Yoongi could feel it, but he's giving you an opening to say what you need to.

"No, Tae, you didn't. I'll play." You smile a little forcefully, finally giving the dishcloth a break and laying it down on the island counter. "I'll tell you later?" You tilt your head at Yoongi and he can only nod, hopeful again, that you really would and not find an easy out.

"Okay."

"Tae, can't we do this later or something?" You frown, speaking lowly as he wraps his arm with yours and drags you away, "I was actually really close this time."

"Yeah, no. You looked like you needed saving. So you're welcome." Taehyung shakes his head, curls swaying, "One day, little butterfly, you'll be free to spill your feelings." He sits you down on the couch next to Namjoon, who thankfully, has his earphones in his ears. Jin had already wandered off to do God knows after his defeat, leaving your brother to fiddle mindlessly with his phone.

You can hear Yoongi moving around in the kitchen, probably still packing away the dishes. Taehyung plops next to you, throwing his legs over yours and almost knocking Namjoon's phone out his hands. He starts up the game after passing you a remote, smiling at you, "He'll probably come over here to watch the game, so I'll lose and he could play against you, yeah?"

"Tae..." You groan, tilting your head back, and he pats your arm in a friendly manner, though a little firm in his delivery.

"If you don't tell him now that's fine..." He points at Namjoon with a tilt of his chin, trying to remind you of your brother's presence without being obvious. "But at least you could spend time with him. Never know what could happen." He wiggles his eyebrows.

Evidently, Taehyung's the only person who knows about that night with Yoongi. He was the one who picked you up from his apartment after all, firing question after question and not giving you room to breathe. Though he was a tad upset that he wasn't your first call when you were stranded, he understood why you'd called Yoongi. At the same time, he gave you an earful about just leaving the man hanging after you kissed him. Something you shouldn't have done in that moment, lord knows what Yoongi thinks of you now.

You've tried and failed so many times to tell Yoongi that you weren't as drunk as you seemed that night three months ago, you knew what you were doing. You were hurt, yes, but it was more out of realisation. Your relationship with your ex had been rocky at best, you'd given into his advances to hopefully put your crush on Yoongi behind you. It was easy at first, to have someone to put your focus on and give yourself to rather than to waste it on someone who didn't see you the way you saw him.

Yoongi has always seen you as his best friend's sister, nothing more. And you'd kissed him that night hoping that even for a second he'd realise, but he pushed you away and you knew there was no use hoping.

Even now, embarrassment still burns at your chest when you think about it, because what were you thinking? You'd left without saying anything to him because you were positively mortified. There were hundreds of unfinished texts that started and ended the same, with you contemplating if you should tell him or not.

More often than not, a tipsy night would find you huddled under your sheets with your finger hovering over Yoongi's contact.

It was more likely that he still saw you as the fresh out of highschool kid who followed him and your brother everywhere.

You groan loudly at your own thoughts, and Taehyung turns his head, looking between you and the TV screen, "Uh....You can play Toad if you want.."

"Huh?" The choose your character screen is up, idle, waiting for you to move your joystick around. Taehyung's already picked, "No, it's not that. I don't even like Toad, you can play him."

"That's the rudest thing that's ever come out of your mouth." Taehyung pokes your side with a finger, "What's on your mind?"

"Everything." You sigh, scrolling around to pick a random character. Don't get it wrong, you love Mario Kart as much as the next guy, but right now your mind was far, far away from this moment and the game.

Taehyung pats your thigh, "Maybe losing will help." He snickers, just as the game starts up.

"Oh, you're on." You're not gonna lose, no matter how confident Taehyung is, no one could beat you at Mario Kart.

"Cheater! TaehYUNG. Joon tell Tae to stop do- You're cheating!"

"It's literally impossible to cheat at this game!"

Yoongi leans back against the island counter, content to watch you crash and burn as Taehyung wins yet another race. His victory laugh is deep, almost unheard under the sound of your indignant screeching. The rest of the boys gathered to see what you were yelling about, finding the sight of your losing streak more than entertaining.

Yoongi had paused only for a moment, making a light snack that everyone could enjoy if they wanted to, though, it was only an excuse to make your favourite. He watches as you scoot to the edge of the couch, he can't see your expression, but he doesn't doubt that you're pouting with the cute furrow of your brows that comes with your concentration.

"Namjoon." You whine to your brother, though Namjoon's hands fly up into the air, phone and all.

"Nope, leave me out of this."

"But he's cheating!"

"I'm not! You just suck."

Yoongi picks up the tray of Hotteok as soon as everyone calms down, carrying it over to the group. He rests the tray down on the coffee table, careful to move quickly so he doesn't block the screen for too long.

"Oh! Sweet! Thanks Yoongi." Namjoon is the first to move, leaning forward to grab one.

"Wait, Joon. They're ho-" Yoongi snaps his mouth shut as Namjoon has already picked it up. He promptly drops it, pulling air through his teeth before blowing on his fingertips.

"Ow." Namjoon pouts at his fingers, rubbing them against the material of his grey sweats.

Yoongi sighs, "Be careful, would you?" He focuses on the TV screen, you're directly behind Taehyung, throwing a blue shell that sends him skidding off the road just in time for you to cross the finish line.

"Ha!" You push at Taehyung's shoulder in your excitement, sending him against Namjoon, who drops his Hotteok on the floor.

Namjoon stares forlornly at the pancake for a quiet moment, while you do a victory wiggle in your place, his misfortune ignored.

"Well there you go, who wants to play?" Taehyung asks, glancing around the room. Jungkook waves his arm, getting up from his space on the floor by Hoseok's legs to totter over. "Yoongi! Nice of you to volunteer."

"What? I didn't...?" Yoongi stares at Taehyung like he's sprouted a second head.

Taehyung ignores him.

"Hey I wanted to play..." Jungkook whines, Taehyung ignores him, too.

"Guys, let's go take a nap in the bunk room." He stretches his long legs over Namjoon's, pulling him up by the arms and shares a look with Jungkook who was likely, as confused as everyone else.

"I'm not tired, though. I napped when I got here." Hoseok pipes up, pressing his lips together when Jimin not so subtly nudges his side with an elbow.

"Let's go take a nap." Taehyung repeats, eyes narrowing slightly at Hoseok. He relents under Taehyung's gaze, sighing as he stands and drags Jimin and a complaining Jungkook.

Taehyung smiles brightly, dropping his hands heavily on Yoongi's shoulders. Yoongi doesn't know what the kid's playing at, but allows him to direct him to sit next to you.

Yoongi shares a look with Seokjin, who shrugs and stands to leave too, linking his arm with Namjoon, "I found a book I think you'd like Joon. But we have to look for it, it's lost in my bedroom somewhere..."

"Oh...Kay? Sure."

Their voices trail off as they head up the stairs, and Taehyung waves as he backs out of the living room, with a sweet - suspicious - boxy smile."Have fun you two!"

"Okay what the hell." Yoongi mutters, turning his head to look at you. You didn't look his way, staring dead ahead at the TV, fingers tapping lightly at the control.

He hears you take a breath, "Wanna play Toad?"

"Uh...sure."

A few minutes go by before Yoongi could finally relax, getting comfortable on the couch focusing on the game and not the fact that you're less than a metre away from him. You're nibbling on a piece of hotteok, a little too quiet for Yoongi's liking. He was expecting you to be yelling because he's way ahead of you.

"So...can I ask you a question?" Yoongi keeps his eyes on the screen as he asks, afraid to look at you because he might slip up or stop all together. He could already hear the little voice in his head screaming at him to shut up. "I just wanna ask about...what you wanted to tell me in the kitchen?"

Yoongi doesn't normally pry, people's business are theirs and not his. But curiosity is driving him up a wall and he just needs to know. Maybe he was being foolishly hopeful again, thinking that whatever it was had something to do with him. That's why you hadn't said anything when Taehyung interrupted, right?

Yoongi wonders what Taehyung's deal was, first he was being too clingy with you - not that it's any of his business - and now he's acting so painfully obvious; trying to get you both in a room alone. It didn't go over Yoongi's head, as not a lot of things do.

He purposely lets you win the race, though, your victory was unsounded as you set the controller aside. "Right... kitchen..."

"You know you could tell me anything, right?" Yoongi says softly, fingers just wanting to reach for yours, if just to offer comfort. He tucks them against his palm though, and into the pouch of his sweater for an extra precaution.

"Yeah I know," You smile faintly, "like old times right?"

"Yeah exactly, and I won't judge, you know that. So whatever it is, just say it."

Maybe his words were a bit harsh? You stiffen a bit in place, sighing through your nose before you turn to look at him. The determination from earlier is back in your eyes again, and Yoongi finds it impossible to hold your gaze, and he's the first to look away this time. Keep it together, will you?

He feels heat climbing his neck, racing to each of his cheeks and he hopes to god you just think he's going pink because it's cold in here. Seokjin really needs to get that crappy heater fixed so Yoongi can blame something if you ask about it.

"Okay so remember the time when you-"

"You two are being awfully quiet." Seokjin pokes his head into the room, staring at you both, but not too long, before his eyes find the tv screen. "Oh, Yoongi, did you win?"

"No..." Yoongi sighs, watching as you shut him out once more.

"Really? It was so quiet..."

You make an offended sound in the back of your throat, straightening a bit to glare at Seokjin.

"Yoongi, can you help me with the firepit?"

Yoongi follows Seokjin outside along the wrap-around porch, the sun was halfway in its descent, painting the sky in a flurry of soft colours. The lake glistens with amber crystals, catching the sun's sleepy gaze as it drifts slowly off behind the hills; almost out of sight.

The sunken fire pit was in the backyard, something Yoongi helped Seokjin install last year. He's quite proud of it really, he did most of the heavy lifting while Seokjin stood around telling him how and where he wanted things like a glorified dictator.

As Seokjin gathers the firewood and steps down the three steps to throw the logs into the firepit, Yoongi realises that he didn't actually need any help.

"Watching you try to talk to Y/n is so painful. Like that time I broke my arm but worse."

"I actually wasn't doing the talking." Yoongi grumbles, enjoying the satisfying crunch of gravel under his sandals as he walks over to the cushioned semi circle bench and sits to watch Seokjin do all the work. "You have terrible timing."

Seokjin scoffs, shaking his head, "It's a wonder Namjoon hasn't figured it out yet...you're so obvious."

Yoongi feels like Seokjin just isn't listening to him, continuing his mission of getting the fire going; his words completely ignored.

"Joon is oblivious sometimes."

"You are too."

"Here, this one's longer."

Yoongi watches as Seokjin trades wires with Jungkook, patting him on the shoulder as the younger man happily sticks his marshmallow on the end of his wire. As usual when they're all together, there's laughter in the air, and the lightness Yoongi feels in his chest is something he misses when he's alone.

He watches the moon rise behind the trees, full and glowing brightly in the cloudless sky. The fire was warm, the burning wood crackling softly, sending little glowing sparks up into the air. Everyone had their own bag of marshmallows for toasting, with chocolate and biscuits for s'mores.

"This is nice," Hoseok comments, smacking Jimin's hand away from the smores he was setting up, tucking them into the corner of a small bowl he brought. Jimin gets one anyway; sneaking it away while Hoseok wasn't looking.

"Yeah, we haven't done this in forever." Namjoon sticks the wire with his marshmallow a little too close to the fire.

"It's gonna burn if you do it like that." Yoongi reaches over and raises Namjoon's hand higher.

"When it's burnt it's the best, though."

"Are you a sadist?" Taehyung frowns at Jungkook, "it's better when it's just a little toasty."

"It won't melt inside if you play kiss and tell with the fire. You gotta burn it." Jungkook's marshmallow was just on the edge of charred and Yoongi watches with mild disgust as he smushes the thing between pieces of chocolate and unsweetened biscuits. He shoves the entire thing in his mouth and closes his eyes, moaning around the treat like it's the best thing he's ever tasted.

"Um? There's no way you're enjoying that." Hoseok didn't try to hide how he felt about it, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. "Stop moaning like that!"

"I wasn't moaning!"

"Yes you were!"

Yoongi shakes his head, turning to look at you, who sat next to him, eating out of your own bag of marshmallows. The wire Seokjin had given you is still in your lap, untouched.

"Want me to make one for you?" He asks softly, already sticking a marshmallow on his wire. He hangs it over the fire and twirls it so it gets nice and brown, "Do you want it with the cookies?"

"Yeah, thanks." You smile sweetly at him, and Yoongi feels his heart stutter in his chest.

Once he's finished assembling the s'more, he hands it over to you. You take a bite out of it, and Yoongi struggles to breathe the very next second at the sound you make, turning his head swiftly to stare into the fire as though it would save him.

"Dude, Y/n. That's gotta be the best s'more ever created." Taehyung says, snickering from across the firepit, "Yoongi make me one, too!"

"You can make it yourself." Yoongi's cheeks flush, passing you a bottle of water when you choke.

"I wanna make happy noises, too."

When the fire in the pit smolders and the embers of the wood burn orange, everyone is ready to call it a night. The younger ones escape to the second floor bunk room first, Seokjin and Hoseok right behind them.

Hoseok is trying to convince Seokjin to flip a coin for the master bedroom while they go up the stairs.

"Owner's rights, Hobi."

"You have any idea what it's like to share a bathroom with those three? Have a heart!"

Their voices fade, and Yoongi is left standing in the entryway with you and Namjoon, feeling awkward and not quite sure what he should do with his hands. So he shoves them in the pockets of his sweatpants, and drags his feet towards the kitchen, suddenly thirsty.

You and Namjoon are talking in hushed tones, too quiet for him to hear, but he pays it no mind, it isn't his business, really.

You come in a second later, moving to the fridge just as Yoongi moves past you, and he's a little curious, a little worried, because you look a bit upset. There's a frown tugging at the corner of your mouth as you crack open a bottle of water.

"Everything okay?" Yoongi asks softly, fingers just itching to reach out for you, but he holds his own bottled water a little tighter instead.

"Yeah...Joon is just..." You shake your head, "Are you staying up to watch the movie with us?"

Your change of subject didn't surprise Yoongi, you've been doing that a lot today. He lifts his shoulder in a shrug, "I might...do you want me to?"

Yoongi would give you anything you ask for right now, hell, he'd find a way to pull the moon from the sky if you asked it of him.

"Huh?" Your eyes seems panicked for a second as they dart away to stare off elsewhere. "If you want to, it's up to you really."

"Then I'll watch." He gives an easy smile, "Are you sure you're okay?" He steps closer, a hand meeting your cheek gently, unintentionally and without Yoongi's consent. Simply out of his need to offer you comfort when he can, and maybe it's his wishful thinking, maybe it's that stupid thing called hope again; Yoongi swears you lean into his touch. Your skin is warm, like cooling tea on a winter's morning.

"I'm fine," You're staring at his lips as you say this, and Yoongi's heart skips before it gallops, threatening to burst from his chest. Maybe he's imagining it, but you move a step closer, and he does too, leaning down a bit to meet your height, "I just wanted to.."

Just another inch, if he moves just an inch closer. You're so close now that your exhales mingles with his in the space between you both, he could feel the chill seeping off the bottled water you hold, pressed against his stomach where your hands linger.

Yoongi decides he's not going to be awkward right now, he's going to be brave and just do this. He's going to kiss you and pour everything he feels into it, and hope - prays - that you feel it too.

"Ahem."

You and Yoongi both spring apart like teenagers caught doing something they shouldn't. Yoongi's cheeks are heating up too quickly for him to stop it, and yours are too, and he doesn't want to turn around because he knows who's behind him.

Think fast, Yoongi. Think.

"I hope your eye feels better. You should kiss - rinse! Rinse with warm water. 'Cause you know...germs...could uh.... get in there.... "

Really? Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, already anticipating his death when he turns to face the grim reaper behind him.

Namjoon stands in the kitchen doorway, eyebrow raised, doing that thing he does with his jaw. Yoongi feels a little faint, looking at the ugly painting Taehyung convinced Seokjin to buy and hang up in the living room over his head.

"Y/n had something in her eye and I was just checking." He looks back at you and you look just as confused as he's feeling, smiling though, as if his misery is funny to you. "R-remember. Warm water, okay?"

With that he leaves, not looking at Namjoon, who's gaze he could feel at the back of his head.

"Joon, are you serious?" Your voice was a harsh whisper, a little loud in the silence of the kitchen.

Yoongi walks away, hands in his pockets, not catching Namjoon's reply as he makes his escape. What the fuck was that?

"Let's watch The Conjuring."

"Fuck that." Hoseok puts his palms up, "Unless you're willing to cuddle me to sleep, we're not watching that movie."

A chorus of groans fills the room, "For the love of God, just pick something already. Not you, Jungkook."

"It's not my fault Hobi's a coward."

Hoseok's reaches over Seokjin to smack the back of Jungkook's head, who immediately retaliates by hitting Seokjin instead. The three of them trade playful smacks for a moment, while Taehyung and Jimin argue about which movie would be best to watch.

"Okay let's just all pick something." You say, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers, "Rock, paper, scissors, whoever wins; we'll watch."

Terrible idea really, everyone knows Jungkook is going to win.

Yoongi opts out, not really caring what goes up on the screen. He's sitting with his hands under his thighs, trying to keep them warm but at the same time, keeping them from doing something stupid. You're right next to him on the couch, he's once again hyper aware of your closeness, the way your arm would brush his every time you moved, the scent of your shampoo, soft and fruit scented.

He focuses on the way a single tear slips from Hoseok's eye, the way he tries to make himself as small as possible on the other couch next to Seokjin with a white knuckled grip on the latter's sweater. Jungkook triumphs in his endeavour of beating everyone who played against him, laughing, carefree and malicious as he pulls up The Conjuring.

Hoseok keeps his head tucked behind Seokjin's shoulder for most of the movie, clinging to him and jumping at every loud sound from the TV; poor guy's going through it.

Yoongi is just barely watching, staring at the screen, but not really following along - he has no idea what's going on. Mind too distracted with the fact that you chose to sit next to him and not next to anyone else. He's still reeling from the incident in the kitchen, glancing at Namjoon who was stuffing his face with popcorn, form outlined in the glow of the tv.

He could feel the warmth of your thigh through his sweatpants, and every little movement you'd make at the jumpscares and the loud sounds.

Hoseok dips halfway through, going up the darkened upstairs hallway with his phone torch on. Jungkook had the audacity to fall asleep, drooling on Seokjin's shoulder and mumbling unintelligible words; unbothered.

"I'm going to bed." Yoongi says to you, not really sleepy, but not interested in the movie enough to stay and watch. You grab at his hand and he pauses, "What?"

"You're leaving me here to suffer?"

"You're a big girl, you can take it." He shrugs, patting your hand before getting up. "Night guys."

Yoongi lays quietly in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, unable to sleep. He turns his head, looking at the clock that blinks sleepily back at him and sighs, it's getting later into the night and sleep continues to evade him.

The house seemed to have quieted, the sound of Jimin and Taehyung arguing about who gets to use the upstairs bathroom first stopped a while ago, though, the stillness only allowed Yoongi's mind to wander off. He wonders if you're sleeping yet, he knows you have trouble sometimes, a common curse you both share.

He wonders about what you and Namjoon argued about, if it had anything to do with him. God he hopes not. The last thing he wants is for you and your brother to fall out because of him.

There's a soft knock on his door, quiet enough that he almost misses it. Just almost.

Yoongi gets out of bed, dragging his feet to the door. He isn't completely shocked to find you on the other side, looking like you're two seconds from walking away. Your hand still hovers, eyes impossibly big when they meet his in the soft light of the downstairs hallway.

"Hi." You say, softly, hand falling and gripping at the hem of a tee shirt he's sure belongs to Namjoon.

"...Hi?" Yoongi's brows furrow, not quite sure what you're doing knocking on his door at one in the morning, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wanted to talk to you..." He lets you shuffle into his room, and you walk over to the bed while he closes the door.

"What I wanted to tell you earlier..." You sit on his bed, a good distance away, enough to leave the space between you both cold and Yoongi longing for you to come closer. You seem to be struggling, staying quiet for a little too long.

"Hey." Yoongi calls, "Whatever it is, you can tell me, okay? You know I'd never judge you." He feels the need to repeat himself, just in case you need to hear it again.

"You will." You glance at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth, and you shake your head, "This was stupid..."

"Hey, hey." Yoongi grabs your wrist, stopping you from getting up. "How about I look over there?" He points at a random spot beside him with a thumb, "I won't look at you and you can just say it." He turns for good measure, staring at the wall on the far side of the room.

You're silent for a moment, a long moment that has Yoongi wondering. Maybe he should stop pestering you about it, bury his curiosity - his concern - in a box somewhere to forget about. He's been on your back about it for most of the day, granted, the universe apparently didn't want you to say anything, not with the way you were constantly interrupted every time you tried to talk about it. He should take that as a sign and drop it all together.

"You okay back there?" Yoongi asks softly, turning his head slightly, but not facing you.

"I wasn't really drunk." You say

Confused, Yoongi's brows furrow, "Huh?" He turns to face you, "What are you talking about?"

"The night you picked me up outside that bar." You're not looking at him, instead, you're looking down at your hands in your lap. The events of that night comes rushing to the front of Yoongi's mind, the way you kissed him, how soft your lips were.

"Wait, so..." Something in Yoongi's ears was buzzing, loud and distracting, as realization dawned, he feels a heat rising from his toes. "You-" he stands quickly from the bed, now that he knows exactly why you've been trying to say all day, he thinks he just might lose it.

"Why'd you leave without saying anything?" It's the first thing out of his mouth and Yoongi wishes he'd just shut up.

"I was embarrassed that I just kissed you out of nowhere like that. And you pushed me away, what else was I supposed to do?" You say in a rush, "I know you only see me as Namjoon's little sister."

"I don't." Yoongi says, and at your pause, his palms start to sweat, heart kicking against his ribcage. "Why did you kiss me that night?"

"You probably think it was because I was drunk. That wasn't it." You look him in the eye, "I wanted to."

Yoongi takes a breath and a moment to think carefully about what he's about to say, "Y/n." He runs his palms against his thighs, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "You were drunk. Just out of a relationship and you only kissed me because you were hurting, that's it."

"That's not-" You sigh loudly, pursing your lips and staring at the ceiling, "Do you even know why I dated that idiot? It's because you..." You trail off, picking at a loose thread on your t shirt.

Yoongi waits, giving you the moment you need to gather your words.

"I dated him so that I could forget you." You say softly, not looking at him, and Yoongi feels like he's buffering, like a frozen computer screen. Just standing there as he processes your words, it's taking a while to sink in, or they have, Yoongi is only trying to understand them. "I thought that dating him you would..."

Yoongi sighs, "Tell me something, yeah?"

You nod quietly, waiting. Yoongi watches you for a moment, he's more curious now, "How long?"

He watches as you fluster, eyes darting around to look at anywhere that isn't him. The way your fingers pinch at the dark sheets on the bed, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth and Yoongi just wants to kiss you. But as he's been doing all day, he gives you a moment; Yoongi is nothing but patient.

"Since we met?"

Is that a question? There Yoongi goes buffering again. He blinks a couple of times, mind going through the motions of his forced epiphany. The moments when you used to follow him and Namjoon around, all the staying up late texting as though you both were more than you were at the time.

"I really really like you and I tried to show you that night, but well..."

You get up from his bed with a sigh and step towards him and Yoongi tries his best not to take a step back, he allows you to reach him, to stand close enough for him to touch. He's panicking, on the inside, a voice in the back of his mind telling him that this is a terrible idea and that he should probably stop you.

He can't bring himself to, words stuck in his throat.

You're closer now, Yoongi could feel the warmth of you, and he swears this time that he'll be brave. So he kisses you first, fingers tangling in your hair, a hand gripping your waist to pull you even closer. He feels your hands against his chest as his eyes close, your lips are warm and as soft as he remembers, and he groans at the taste of you. His tongue finds yours, slowly, sliding against yours and he wants to savour this, commit your every sound to memory. Yoongi groans when your hands slide into his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck.

He pulls back for air, lungs trying to take in as much air as possible, too quickly, he feels lightheaded. But that could just be because of you. He presses a fleeting kiss at the corner of your mouth, nose brushing against yours lightly. He's pretty sure this is what being high feels like, the rushing of his blood in his ears and the tingling at the tips of his fingers.

"You're gonna end me." Namjoon will too. The thought alone was enough to make Yoongi pause, realise the grip he had on your hips. One of his hands is just shy of the exposed skin under your tee shirt, hyper aware of the way your chest is pressed to his, your lips on his neck.

Namjoon is going to kill him.

He feels your teeth nip at the skin of his neck and he hisses between his teeth, your tongue follows. He pulls away, pushing you from him gently to take a couple steps back. He sees the question in your eyes, the soft furrow of your brows. He sighs through his nose, thinking about how much of a terrible idea this was, and how Namjoon would very likely drown him in the lake.

"Y/n...we can't." This was the reason he pushed you away the first time. Yoongi likes to think ahead, think about all the outcomes of a situation before he walks into it. This could go two ways, and Yoongi's mind can only focus on the worst scenario. What if this goes wrong? What if doing this now ruins everything, he'd not only lose you, but Namjoon as well.

He sees your pout and he looks away, wondering why he can't just let it happen and deal with the consequences later. But Yoongi isn't like that. He likes to sit and over think things.

"Is this about Namjoon?"

Yoongi startles at your question, jolting a bit as he drops his hands from your waist, fingers curling against his palm. He's not as good at hiding his thoughts as he presumed, or you just knew him too well for his own good. He answers your question with a silent nod, not meeting your eyes in the darkness of his room.

"Yoongi. He wouldn't care. Namjoon can't do anything, what I do isn't his business."

Yoongi goes to argue that that's not the point. You were so off the mark that he almost laughed, Namjoon wouldn't care what you thought. He wouldn't be able to look past Yoongi even thinking about touching you. So much for being brave.

You sigh, and Yoongi catches the hurt in the sound.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't push me away again, please." You reach for him and Yoongi doesn't stop you, because he can; he doesn't want to. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."

"Are you sure?" He asks seriously, catching your wrist, ducking his head so that he could meet your eyes properly, "Tell me now that this is okay because when I start I won't stop."

You barely got to nod before Yoongi was kissing you again, pouring everything he had into it, hands moving down to grip at your ass in your cotton shorts. He takes careful steps, walking you backwards towards the bed.

"Just let me take care of you, yeah?" Yoongi gently pushes you back onto the bed, taking his time to strip you out of your clothes. Not letting his worries and doubts stop him from telling you how beautiful you are, or from kissing every inch of skin revealed to his eyes.

He kisses his way down your thighs once your shorts and panties are out of the way, stopping every now and then to nibble at the soft flesh. Your little sighs and moans are something he wants to record and keep with him forever, even though he wouldn't need them to remember.

He touches you lightly, just to tease, sliding his hands down your thighs, eyes locked on your glistening pussy. He wants to draw this out, ignoring your impatient whine and the rise of your hips at his touch. He's waited so long for this, wanting to taste you beyond the kiss you shared so long ago, Yoongi wants to make you beg. Reduce you to a mumbling mess of incoherent words, but at the same time, he too is impatient.

He shushes you gently at your call of his name, fingers parting your folds and watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing at his gaze. "So pretty, baby."

It was your only warning before he dove in, licking a board stripe from your engerance to your clit, focusing the tip of his tongue at the bundle of nerves. You suck in a sharp breath, hand tugging at his hair and it only spurs Yoongi on. He sucks gently in your clit, tongue moving in slow figures and dips a finger into your wet heat. He groans at the way your cunt just sucks him in, arousal dripping down his hand and he adds another, curling them against the soft spot within you.

He looks up at you, past your heaving chest to your fucked out face. Your parted lips, furrowed brows, glazed eyes looking back at him.

"Yoon--fuck."

Yoongi groans lowly in his throat, pressing his tongue flat against your clit, mouth flooding with your taste. He'd stay there forever if you gave him the chance, listening to the way your breath hitches and the sound of your moans and the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks harshly. He drives his tongue inside you, and the whine that leaves you has him rutting his hips against the bed. He can't get enough of your taste, the way your pussy clenches he's around his fingers.

"You taste so good, baby." Yoongi loves the way you grip at his hair, the way you tug sends tingles down his spine. He thrusts two fingers inside you, crooking them right, hitting the spot that sends your moans into a higher octave. He can't be bothered with how loud you're being, or if anyone's awake right now and would know exactly what you're both up to. You don't seem to care either, too lost in the pleasure; moaning his name.

"F-fuck, right there," you whimper, thighs tensing around his head. Yoongi groans as he obeys, crooking his fingers and rubbing at the spot that makes you sing so sweetly. His lips never leave your clit, tongue swirling around the swollen nub in figure eights. Dragging his fingers within the tightness of your dripping heat, he could tell you're close, feeling the way your thighs tremble. "Fu-"

Your back arches off the sheets, and Yoongi moans when your release gushes out of you and into his mouth. He stays there and takes it all, until you push at him instead of pull and Yoongi lets up, running his hands up your sides in an attempt to soothe as you tremble in the after wave. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," you squeak out and Yoongi chuckles, getting up to sit back on his thighs. He watches you for a moment, watching the way your chest heaves with your every breath, your hair a tangled mess against his pillows. His eyes trail your form, down to the mess between your thighs that twitched at his attention.

"Sure? You good to go on?" He asks to be sure, squeezing your hip gently. You nod, reaching for him and he goes without complaint, caging you within his arms and kisses you slowly. His tongue tangles with yours, and he grinds his hips down against yours, seeking friction for his aching cock, dampening the front of his sweatpants.

"Fuck that feels so good." He groans, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck. He angles his hips so that the length of his cock rubs directly against your clit, shuddering, it feels so good and Yoongi can't stop. He slows down though, because he could feel his release racing down his spine. "Fuck, baby."

"Wanna..." You push at his shoulders, "Wanna suck your cock." Your hands are at the drawstrings of his sweatpants already, tugging, "Wanna taste you, too."

"Fuck, okay."

Yoongi gets off the bed to shuck off his sweats, cock springing free, red and pulsing, precum beading at the tip. He chuckles at your facial expression, eyes surprised even though your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. He notes the way your eyes follow the movement of his hand, he grips his cock and squeezes, thumb catching the translucent drop and dragging it down his shaft.

"You're big."

"Good for you, then?" He pumps his shaft slowly, whispering curses under his breath.

You roll your eyes, "It wouldn't have mattered if-"

"Shh." Yoongi shushes and crooks the fingers of his free hand at you, "Come here."

He leans down to grab a pillow behind you, pausing, "Where's comfortable for you?"

"Wherever you want me," you say sweetly, and it would've been cute with the way you smile, if it wasn't for the look in your eyes. For a moment Yoongi feels like he's in for way more than he bargained for, with you looking so pretty, alluring, like a succubus ready to siphon his soul. Such a far contrast from the you of earlier, fumbling with your words and flushing under his gaze.

"This isn't about me." Yoongi swallows, "Are you kneeling or do you wanna stay on the bed?"

"I'll stay here." You make yourself comfortable, propping up on your elbows, and Yoongi passes you the pillow to help you reach his hips in your position. You slide the pillow under your chest, already reaching for him before he steps closer and Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath when your smaller hand wraps around his cock.

You mirror his motions from before, pumping slowly and Yoongi's not sure if you're teasing him or not. Tongue snaking out to kitten lick at the head, you swirl it around before taking it into your mouth.

"Ah fuck." Yoongi throws his head back, a hand finding your hair as you take him slowly to the back of your throat. He feels your exhales against his tummy, just barely, his mind too muddled to focus on anything but the warmth of your throat and the wiggling of your tongue under his shaft. "You're doing so good, baby."

You hum a gurgle of a word Yoongi would probably never decipher, the vibrations around the head of his cock has him tugging lightly on your hair and pulling out and away from your mouth, breathing hard. He'd be damned if he comes so quickly, that shit will probably haunt him for the rest of his life.

There's a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock, and you smile like the minx you are, not letting him get far enough away before you're taking his cock into your mouth again, bobbing your head at a quick pace. Yoongi could cry, he's trying so hard, there's sweat dripping from his hair, you're pulling him closer, taking him deeper and his eyes roll back.

"Shit. Slow down." His words trail off in a moan, and he's unable to help the rolling of his hips, thrusting his cock into the warmth of your throat, gently, mindful of your breathing. You swallow and he swears, thighs tensing and he stops, pulling away again to release a stuttered exhale. Leaning down, he kisses you, licking into your mouth with haste, tasting himself on your tongue. "Wanna fuck you." He breathes against your lips, releasing your hair for you to scoot back up the bed.

He's quick to follow, slotting his hips between your thighs, stopping to map bruises against the skin of your chest. He laves his tongue over a nipple, fingers toying with the other, he takes the pebbled bud into his mouth just to hear you make a pretty sound.

"Yoongi." You whine his name, and Yoongi doesn't waste another second, hooking one of your knees over his elbow, other hand guiding his cock to your wet cunt. He stays there for a moment, tapping his cock against your clit just to watch you squirm. You raise your hips to meet his teasing thrusts and Yoongi chuckles, easing back to slowly drag his cock down your slit until it prods at your entrance.

He slowly presses into you, watching the way your pussy sucks him in, arousal coating his cock. "You're so fucking tight." Yoongi stills, gripping your hips, watching you through a lust filled haze. He thrusts shallowly into you until he bottoms out and stills, free hand squeezing your hip gently. He swipes his tongue over his thumb, pressing the digit against your clit to rub in slow circles, "Relax for me, baby."

When he feels your body relax around him, he moves, setting a slow pace to start, leaning down to slot his lips over yours, swallowing the sounds you made. You arms wrap around his neck, nails scraping red, angry lines at his shoulder blades. The pain only heightens the pleasure he feels, crossing his eyes and curling his toes.

"Fuck." Yoongi bites gently on your earlobe, "You're so good for me baby. So fucking good. Taking my cock so well."

He knows you're getting tired of his pace. You're lifting your hips to meet his thrust, moaning helplessly into his ears. "Want more, baby?" He leans back in time to catch your nod, kiss swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth. He grips your hips again, keeping you from moving, and slows down just to watch you squirm and beg for him.

"Ple-fuck. Jus-" your words cut off with a gasp, hands gripping Yoongi's wrists where he holds you. He sets a punishing pace, the sound of his thighs hitting your ass loud in the quiet of the room. "Oh F-fuck, Yoongi."

"This what you wanted, hmm?" He tilts his head at you, one eyebrow raised, sliding a hand up your sweat slicked skin to cup your jaw, you take his thumb into your mouth and Yoongi's cock pulses with the need for his release. He smirks, pressing his thumb down on your tongue, pace never faltering, his nerves are on the edge of frying, orgasm tingling at the end of his spine. Pulling his hand away from your mouth and presses his thumb against your clit, looking down at the way his ccok, covered in your arousal, disappears inside you.

Yoongi groans, the sound rumbling in his chest, feeling your pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing tight as your breath hitches. "Ah--fuck I'm gonna-"

"Yeah? Come for me, baby." As your body tenses and tremble, Yoongi chases his end, hips stuttering and he gasps, cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat as his release spills into you. "Oh fuck."

Head light and ears ringing, Yoongi kisses you, it's more tongue than anything else, but he doesn't care. He does his best to keep the full weight of him off you, peppering kisses along your jaw. He feels your every breath and his sweat cools on his skin, "You okay?"

There's sweat burning his eyes and he squints at you as you push his hair back and away from his face, you're smiling and giggling shyly. Like if he told you a joke and didn't just fuck you nine ways to hell. "I'm perfect."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, leaning back up again to carefully slip his softening cock out of your still pulsing walls. His release comes flowing out not two seconds after, he watches with his bottom lip between his teeth, cock giving an interested twitch.

Yoongi gets up before he starts something again, because he just might die trying to go through a second round so quickly. "Don't move, I'll be right back."

He looks around on the floor for where he left his sweatpants, he puts them on and shuffles quickly to the door. He only realises just how quiet it is now that it's quiet, he realises how loud the two of you were being.

He goes back to you with a warm, damp washrag, finding you close to falling asleep. He cleans you up anyway, mindful of your sensitivity.

When he's done he watches you for a moment, fingers finding yours first. Mindlessly he fiddles with them and reaches for his discarded shirt and passes it to you, releases your hand only for you to put it on. "We probably could've done this sooner." You say softly, smiling.

Yoongi tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "What? The sex or...?"

You lightly swat his arm, "You know what I mean."

"I do." Yoongi presses a kiss to your wrist, sighing when you gently lay that palm against his cheek. He believes that action speaks volumes and there's no need for words, but he realises that he hadn't said it back to you earlier. Though, he was very much distracted and his thoughts were absent. "I like you too...alot...just in case that wasn't clear."

He shifts on the bed to be closer to you and leans his head on your shoulder, "I'm sorry it took me so long. It takes me a while to come to terms with things. I overthink and make things harder for myself, I wasn't sure if this was the right way to go."

You hum softly, breath tickling his ears, "It's okay. I suck too. We could've avoided the run around if I'd just told you."

"Yeah, you're terrible. I had no idea what to do with your smoke signals." Yoongi raises his head, chuckling. Leaning over, he presses a kiss to your forehead and tilts your chin to kiss you softly. "Can I take you out? When we get back."

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Yoongi smiles, feeling like a kid and nudges you softly, "Go pee. I'll strip the sheets, go on."

He watches as you walk on wobbly legs till you reach the door and pause, turning your head to watch him with wide eyes, "you don't think they heard us, do you?"

"Nah, they're asleep."

"Dude, whoever was watching their porn so loudly last night, fuck you. Honestly, the lack of respect in this household."

It's the first thing Jimin says when he comes downstairs the next morning, looking like he'd slept on the wrong side of the bed. Eyes swollen as he takes the coffee Seokjin offers and the sympathetic pat to his shoulder.

Yoongi ignores the conversation, even though you looked like you were about to combust next to him. Seokjin was giving him a look from his spot by the stove, looking ridiculous in the pink apron he favoured.

"Yeah the walls are so thin in here it's wild." Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows at Yoongi and you choose that moment to choke on your sip of orange juice.

Taehyung pauses, fork halfway to his mouth with a strip of bacon hanging for dear life at the end of it. He looks between the both of you for a quiet moment, strong brows furrowed until something lights in his eyes. "Oh my god."

Jimin, who's slumping in his seat, looking like he wanted nothing more than to crawl his way back upstairs perks up at Taehyung's words, "What?"

Yoongi stares silently at Taehyung, daring him to open his big mouth and say exactly what he definitely wants to say.

"Nothing. Nothing...." Taehyung waves his hand with the fork, sending the piece of bacon flying off it and into his glass of orange juice. Jimin watches on with disgust as Taehyung fishes the piece out of the cup and tosses it into his mouth.

"The bin is right there."

"Are you drinking the juice?"

Yoongi runs circles into the skin of your knee, as Taehyung and Jimin bicker.

"Oh, Joon. Come eat." Seokjin wanders over to the entrance and Yoongi just barely catches the sight of Namjoon passing by, saying that he was going for a walk first. Hoseok and Jungkook enter just then, finding their spots at the table as Seokjin sets plates for them.

"I'll be right back." Yoongi says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple, leaving Jimin sputtering into his coffee. He pushes his chair back and stands, catching the way Hoseok squints at you.

He points, not saying anything before he leans around Taehyung to smack at Jimin's arm, "I told you so! You owe me fifty."

"Bold of you to assume I came here with money."

"You guys made a bet?" You ask, incredulous.

"Yeah. It's either someone was watching porn, or someone was getting it. You and Yoongi are the only ones not sharing a room..."

Hoseok voice fades as Yoongi shuts the front door behind him. It's cold, mist and dew clinging to the world and Yoongi regrets leaving his sweater in his room. He rubs his hands over his arms, the long sleeves of his t shirt barely keeping him warm.

Namjoon's already walking, a good distance from the house near the lake's edge. Yoongi takes his time walking over, gravel crunching under his feet, he slots his hands into his pockets to keep them warm.

When he reaches Namjoon, the younger man is crouched down, cooing at something on the ground. There's a little crab scurrying around trying to get away from Namjoon's curious fingers.

"Just let the little guy be." Yoongi announces himself, "Thing's probably scared shitless."

"I just wanna pick him up, though," Namjoon continues to try, sighing when the little crab escapes into the lake. "Oh well.." He dusts his hands and stands up, finally looking over at Yoongi.

"Aren't you cold?" He asks, and remembering he's standing out in a tshirt and sweats, Yoongi shivers. Namjoon looks all cozy in his beige sweater and matching beanie.

"I wanted to run something by you." Yoongi says, looking out at the lake and the way the light of the morning sun glitters against the still waters. He shoves his cold hands into the pockets of his pants, rubbing his thumb over his curled fingers. He realised that this is going to be as hard as trying to talk to you, and Namjoon waits patiently, watching Yoongi with eyes that seemed to know too much.

"Uh.." Yoongi chances a look, glancing at Namjoon who's just as quiet as him, waiting. "Look man, Y/n and I had a talk last night."

"Right?" Namjoon gives him a look, a confused one, head tilting and all.

Yoongi takes a breath and decides to go headfirst, though he takes a step back from Namjoon to be sure. "I really like your sister and we talked about it and I just wanted you to know that."

The uncomfortable look that morphs Namjoon's features wasn't what Yoongi was expecting, especially since the look stays there for a while as Namjoon just stares at him. He raises a hand to scratch at his cheek, "Dude."

"What?"

"Are you saying that I owe Hoseok fifty dollars?"

"...Eh?" Yoongi's confused, and it feels as though he's spent this whole weekend running on pure confused energy. Namjoon shakes his head, laughing in a way that makes Yoongi take another step back.

"I know. You two are terrible at hiding shit." Namjoon points his thumb over his shoulder, back at the house where he glances. From where he stands, he could see Seokjin, Taehyung and Jimin peering out through the window. "I know my sister, and I know my best friend. You guys are adults, so, really, there's nothing I can do but watch it happen."

Namjoon shrugs, and Yoongi flushes, cheeks heating. "But when I met her...you...you gave me a look."

"I was trying to ask if you wanted water!"

"That was not a 'do you want water' look, Joon."

Namjoon reaches over and pats his shoulder softly, hand lingering, "You have my blessing, if that's what you came to ask for." He smiles, eyes disappearing, but Yoongi's relief is cut short when he tries to shift away, Namjoon's grip tightening. "Though, she's still my little sister. I know where you live."

Yoongi chuckles, a little scared.

"Good talk." Namjoon nods to himself, "I'm going inside. Get out of the cold!"

Tagging: @madbutgloriouspond @blog-name-idk @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12 @hamsterclaw @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @doneimnida @here2bbtstrash

[nanamiluvs]

Heyy my love,

I love a lil bit jealous nanami hehe,

Do you write for toji too?

If you do could you maybe do smth where reader and toji are trying to concieve and hes the softest ever

I never get soft toji lately 😭

hehe definitely! also toji would be the softest husband ever like?? i will make this man my wife. ( i also didn't know if you wanted sfw or nsfw so i did a little bit of both! )

as his wife !

pairing : toji x reader

rating : sfw and mature parts separated

wc : 650

sypnosis : husband!toji & reader trying for a baby ♡

warnings : afab reader but no pronouns used, mentions of reader as a mother, mentions of pregnancy, pregnant!reader, reading being called "woman" and "wife" by toji, toji and reader are married; for the mature stuff : breeding, p in v, unprotected sex, soft dom toji

husband!toji who cannot believe he heard things right when you said you wanted to have a baby with him.

husband!toji who couldn't hide the smile forming on his lips. do you really? with someone like him?

husband!toji who simply thinks he's not worthy of that.

husband!toji who has wanted to have kids with you for so long, yet never mentioned the idea since he was worried that you wouldn't feel the same way. he's fighting to hide a grin.

husband!toji who would pepper your face in kisses, telling you how beautiful his wife would look, belly full with his child.

husband!toji who would be terrible with parenting courses and books. he's really trying, he wants to be a husband and a father to you and your children, but he's a little dense at the moment. don't discourage him though! he's trying and he won't give up even if sometimes he just wants to toss the overcomplicated book to the wall.

husband!toji who will practically be your slave during the whole thing. even when you're only trying for a baby, he treats you like a queen. you're his wife and soon-to-be mother of his kids, is it even possible for him to not adore you? he may try and appear tough, but toji is a man who would worship the ground you walk on.

husband!toji who chats with the baby inside your tummy all the time. "hey, you brat." you're laying on the couch and he's kneeling on the ground, talking as if the child can hear him. "get out of there already. we're gonna have a problem if ya keep troubling my wife."

husband!toji who is sometimes too shy to ask to feel the baby's kicks or listen to it. he's trying not to make it too obvious but he can't hide the smile on his scarred lips when you tell him he can touch.

husband!toji who is, deep down, more panicked than you when you go into labor. everything he had learned is suddenly out the window, he doesn't know what to do now that the moment has come. he's trying to appear normal but he's brimming with anxiety waiting for you in the hospital.

smut content below !

husband!toji who would whisper in your ear how good you will look as he pushes himself inside you inch by inch. he's kissing your neck, hands caressing your curves as gently as if you were to break. he's not his usual self, he's so careful it's sickeningly sweet.

husband!toji who will deny that he's going softer on you. "hah. i'm just feeling nice today, woman." yet the way he looks into your eyes as his sensual pace keeps up, you know that's not the case.

husband!toji who suddenly gets on the giving side completely, not giving you a chance to pleasure him like usual. he wants you to do as less work as possible, you're ready to handle so much more for you and him, so what's this in comparison to that?

husband!toji who would thrust inside you with the image of your family in his mind. what did he do to deserve this? how could someone like you be with someone like him? he tries to shut these thoughts up when he feels a strange, prickling sensation burning his eyes. if you noticed it, you didn't.

husband!toji who would give it his all to get you full and brimming with his seed. he's not pulling out, resting inside of you as he hugs you from behind and presses a kiss on your shoulder.

husband!toji who definitely won't give up after one round. he has to make sure he's successful, that you're carrying his child- his usual prominent stamina doubling to your horror. (or pleasure, more like it.)

husband!toji who would fall asleep with you in his arms, pulling you impossibly close to his chest and not letting you go.

husband!toji who loves you enough to soften a man like him. but how could he not?

reqs are open!

[just-another-author-i-guess]

so like, I don't know the extent of what you write, but if you're ok with it, smutty/spicy head canons for Marshall x Reader? or, alternatively, if you don't write that stuff, first date HC? 💛

Anything for you <3 I’ve been wanting to make a smut for him for soooo long so dw about it

Tags: fem! Reader, smut, obviously, blood, general vampire stuff?, semi-public sex, also they do it unprotected, don’t do that irl pls, Marshall has a big dick 😊✋, this is not nearly as bad as my Judd smuts dw, I wanted to write minors dni but who am I kidding they’re gonna read this anyways 🧍🏻

Summary: idk, porn?

Author’s note: I have returned! Ngl I’ve been thinking of this request for so long, I was so giddy to write it lol 🤭🤭 I hope it’s okay, I feel like I need to work more with Marshall as a character lol but nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this. Eat up, children!

Marshall smut headcannons

Word count; 2,6K

Smut under the cut!

He is SUCH a tease, omg 

Will tease you for hours, days if he’s in the right mood for it 

(which is most of the time, because he’s a little shit) 

He will act so coy about it as well; getting you to the brim of an orgasm MULTIPLE times or touching you in a way that he knows will turn you on and then just,,, get up and leave 

Oh, just a moment ago he was grinding you on his thigh and whispering the lewdest of lewd things into your ear? Too bad, now he’s up and going to get ice cream from the mart 

He loves to tease you in public too, more than anything in fact 

You’re drinking tea with Prince Gumball? Marshall got bored and thought it was funny to shove his hand under your skirt and into your panties, only to loudly point out how flustered you are 

Would go; “Oh, jeez. Y/n you don’t look so fresh, you okay there, babe?” 

If his cold fingers gently rubbing your clit didn’t feel so damn good, you’d definitely have kicked him 

Instead, though, you clasp a hand over your mouth and nod vigorously 

“Y-yes! Marshall, I’m just fine. Thanks,” You’d grit out, but the rest of your audience would find it hard to believe 

Gumball, bless the man, would insist you lay down for a while and grant you a guest room in the castle 

Bingo. Marshall’s plan fell through exactly how he wanted it to 

The Prince would quickly find out you’re fine, though, when the both of you return like 20 minutes later with mussed hair and you sporting a few bite marks that definitely weren’t present before 

Gumball would scold Marshall more than you, calling him something along the lines of “a hungry wild beast” while just telling you he thought you were better at controlling your urges lmfao 

Marshall is definitely quite the exhibitionist, however 

The two of you have fucked everywhere, all places in Aaa you could think off 

Unfortunately for Gumball, that means his castle has been subject to this quite a lot since he’s got A TON of secret rooms 

Marshall is more respectful at Fionna and Cake’s house though, he only convinced you to do it so much at the Candy Kingdom because he likes pissing Gumball off 

But on the topic of Marshall’s exhibitionism, he really likes getting you to be loud too 

It’s almost like he wants to be caught 😀✋

He’ll drag you around a corner or to the bathroom of a dingy bar or something and make you scream louder than you ever have in your life 

This is not so much a problem in the Nightosphere (yes, you have fucked there too) because I imagine there’s a lot of screaming sounds going on there anyways 

And either way, no one would dare disturb their Prince in his,, private activities 

He’d also really like to drink your blood while fucking 

Usually, he barely asks for it, only if he’s very sick or wounded because otherwise he just drinks the color of red 

But when he’s buried inside you and your nails are scratching up his back, he feels just that tad bit more animalistic 

Sometimes he won’t even ask ): 

Only because he knows you know he would never genuinely hurt you 

But if he’s already kissing and lapping at your neck, it’s soooo hard not to go that extra mile and sink his teeth in 

And your blood is heavenly to him 

Much better than drinking colours all the time fr

Ngl, your period would be love making season for him 

Sometimes, just the faintest smell of your blood is enough to get him sporting a boner 

But when it’s coming from you so steadily and from a place he already loves burying his face and nose in? Man’s a goner 

Please just,,, let him eat you out 🙏

He doesn’t even understand how you could find it gross, when it’s literally free blood he can drink from you without puncturing your skin 

He also LOVES making you cum, and get that taste of your blood mixed with cum.. mmm delicious 🤭🤭

Honestly, he kinda acts like he’s in heat on the week of your period 

But yk, orgasms makes the cramps go away, or so they say 

So take it like a champ lol 

He’ll fuck you in his bed, mostly 

His couch is kinda stuffy and hard bc he never uses it, only you and sometimes your friends when they come over does 

His bed is also nice and large, very good for violent vampire sex 

But let me present to you, an even better option; his bed in the Nightosphere 

Idc his mom tries ok, and has a bedroom set up for him there 

And it’s decorated very posh and such, but the bed is even better for a good round of fucking 

No okay but he rarely takes you there because when he does his mom is bugging the two of you for grandkids so hard— 

I’m honestly not sure if it’s even physically possible, but hey, his mom just wants a cute little grand baby 🫶🫶

Anyways 

As I stated before, Marshall is a man who thoroughly enjoys foreplay 

He’ll have you writhing and gasping before even filling you with his dick; 

His head was hung low, eyes focused on the spot where your bare pussy was dragging against the denim of his jeans. He tensed his thigh, corners of his mouth quirking up as he caught sound of your breath hitching.

You sniffled, softly whining his name and trying to rut yourself faster against him.

He looked up fully, fangs escaping his complacent smile and gently resting on his lower lip 

“Wow. You’re so greedy, baby,” He ‘tsked’, playfully scolding you. 

His hands kept their iron grip on your hips, rocking you back and forth slowly and dictating exactly how much pressure you got to feel on your throbbing clit each time 

You tried to glare at him, but then suddenly he was bouncing his leg and your glare became a sultry pout as you cried out for him 

Unusually, you were sitting on his couch this time around 

He had started by tricking you into watching a movie, clearly with other intentions in mind, but you fell right into his trap and happily obliged when he pulled you to his lap 

Cold breath ghosted over your neck as he had slowly inched his fingers into your sleeping shorts, edging you until you were completely cross eyed and just about to cum only to pull away and situate you on his thigh instead 

He had turned you around to face him, so he could observe your pitiful expressions as he kept giving you more but never enough 

He thoroughly enjoyed it, and now you had been subject to his cruel torture for nearly two hours 

He continued bouncing you, leaning in to get a long sniff of your neck 

You felt his long, wet tongue lap up and down right in the crook of your neck and his already tight grip on your hips became bruising 

He groaned softly, fangs lightly scraping your soft skin 

“Not fair,” he slurred. “You smell so fucking good.” 

You pushed yourself more into him, hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his head to cradle him against your neck 

With your fingers gently treading through his black hair, you barely managed to whisper; “T-take what you need, then.” 

Well aware that Marshall had now also fallen for his own trap, he complied easily 

He lifted you slightly with his arm around your waist, settling you to now grind on the bulge in his pants instead as his two fangs pierced your skin 

The feeling of his straining, but clothed, cock against your core was enough to momentarily distract you from the warm pain and pinch of Marshall’s bite 

With one hand locked around your waist, the other came to the back of your head to angle you to his liking, leaving your lower half to its own devices 

Maybe he was right when calling you greedy, because you instantly took the opportunity to sit down on his crotch 

His clothed dick spread your folds slightly, the zipper of his pants pressing on your clit and you moaned loudly— finally getting enough stimulation 

Marshall’s pupils were blown wide as he lapped up your blood, clutching you to him as tightly as he could without breaking your back as he started rutting his own ups up into you 

If felt heavenly, you quickly got used to his fangs in your skin and the full throb became somewhat of a pleasant ache in your neck 

Too caught up in his meal, he barely noticed when you came all over his pants, slick coating your inner thighs and now spilling over his crotch as well 

You whined loudly as you came, panting out a never ending mantra of your boyfriends name and shuddering all over from the intense fell of it all 

You clawed at his scalp, desperate for some kind of stability as you finally came down a bit 

However, Marshall was still rutting into you, with no intention of stopping, keeping the fire in your belly raging even though you just came 

When he finally managed to pull away from your neck, lower face and cheeks smeared with blood, he wasted no time unbuckling his jeans 

You cried out in relief when he lifted you again, lining you up with his long, pale cock, completely stiff and leaking 

The drunkenly satisfied meal that escaped you when he finally nudged into you was music to his ears

After hours of waiting, you ached to feel him stretching your walls 

He shuddered at the feeling, too, your gummy walls always fit him so snuggly he was surprised he could even fit inside

Your previous orgasm along with the drawn out teasing had made you beyond sensitive, your head was spinning, mouth parting in delirious moans as you finally, finally felt the fullness of his dick inside you 

He hissed when you gently rocked yourself against him, walls fluttering around his cock. “Easy there,” he breathed, mouth returning to that smug smile he bore before, this time coated in blood. “Aren’t you gonna be a good girl?” 

You whined helplessly, hugging him to you and burrowing your face in the crook of his neck 

He felt you nod against him in confirmation, gently licking at his skin and biting at his shirt to keep yourself sane 

He leaned back on the couch, cradling you to his chest and starting a slow and torturous pace of his hips 

You moaned each time he buckled upwards, meeting his thrust with a desperate one of your own 

He breathed out a laugh. “You’re so goddamn wet, it’s all over my pants, sweetheart.” He commented condescendingly, nuzzling your hair with his bloodied face 

It got in your hair, it was also still leaking from your neck but you didn’t care 

All you could manage was a small huff in response against Marshall’s collarbone, clutching his T-shirt in your hands 

His statement was true, though 

You were absolutely leaking on his cock, it dribbled down his shaft, creating a small puddle underneath you on his pants and the couch 

Gently, you lifted your head to mouth at his neck, then his jaw 

“More.” You muttered, your voice cracked slightly and it came as a whisper, but you knew Marshall’s supernatural senses would pick up on it anyways 

He cackled in response. “You can handle more?”

Vigorously you nodded and before you could even register it, Marshall had you on your back on the couch 

You looked up at him hazily, fingers trailing the few marks you had left on his neck, all of which was already beginning to heal 

He leaned down to kiss you as he started pounding into you, making the couch shake and knock against the table besides it with each movement 

He hoisted your leg up, bringing the left one over his shoulder and dove into you deeper, enough to make you feel him all the way in your lower belly 

When he was done kissing you, leaving you breathless and your lips swollen, he nosed down your neck until he found his bite marks and resumed his feasting 

You tightened and fluttered around him, flailing as the liquid flames in your belly grew until they became almost unbearable 

You tried pleading with Marshall, but all that came out of your mouth was incoherent mewls of his name or loud moans 

He was close too, you could tell by the way he was clutching you, his demon-like nails had grown and was leaving small cuts and indents where he was holding you 

He groaned into you, deeply and animalistic and it vibrated through your whole body in the most pleasant of tingling sensations 

That was enough to tip you over the edge, and without warning you creamed on his dick, walls fluttering and constricting so tightly around him he almost found it hard to pull back out

He took a sharp intake of air, departing from your neck for only a moment to glance down and watch the way your pussy was milking him 

He moaned a little at the sight, licking his lips and picking up speed

You could only just lay there as his thrust became inhumane, you knew he was holding back when you two fucked, but it never failed to surprise you when he took use of some of his actual strength 

Something in the sofa cracked, the sound of wood splitting barely reaching your sex-drunk mind as Marshall fucked you rough and fast 

His own thrusts became somewhat sloppy as he used you to chase his end, he watched your face intently, eyebrows knitted in concentration 

When you finally opened your eyes, locking eyes with him and presenting him with the most fucked-out expression he had ever seen you hold, he came 

He didn’t bother to pull out, instead he held your hips tightly to his, releasing his load inside you 

You softly sighed in delight, body numb and heavy 

It took a while for him to pull out, but when he finally did, he went straight to nuzzling into you again 

He hugged you closely, supporting you against his chest as he sat up, lifted his hips and pulled his pants back up 

Marshall is surprisingly good at aftercare, I mean, after all that teasing he better be treating you right after 

He’s always very cuddly, and makes sure to clean you up properly after

He starts with you always, his own needs come in seconds after he’s done with you 

He’s looking at you all lovestruck and starry eyed too, with a goofy lil smile on his face, adorable 

He tugs you against him, preferably in his bed, and helps you clean up the puncture wounds with his tongue and a wet towel 

Awe, he’s so cute (,: 

He just wants to make you feel loved 🥰🥰

Especially cause he knows humans are not build for the kinda sex he’s build for, he’s always a bit scared he’s breached your limits too much or exhausted too much 

And I mean, yes, he has, but you thoroughly enjoy it so.. 

No okay I know I just said he’s soft in the post-but clarity, but sometimes he can also be a teasing little shit 

Depending on how loud he made you moan or how much he got you to embarrass yourself 

In the instance above, he’s pretty soft, but don’t be fooled, man’s is a demon after all 🫢

He’s so hot pls 🥲✋

He’s been needing his own smut for so long too oml,,, I hope you enjoyed it.

Sorry this is also not as fluffy as a first date thing would be, but if it’s something y’all want I could write something about that too. Thanks for the read! 🙏

[snorlaxlovesme]

alright everybody, it's time we talked about Hostage. (buckle up because this is going to be long, but it'll be worth it)

season 2 episode 8 of Link Click was one of the most confounding episodes in the entire season while airing. starting with Lu Guang's insane boat crash/martial arts smackdown rescue of Cheng Xiaoshi and ending with Cheng Xiaoshi diving into a photo to possess Lu Guang to get answers for his actions, from start to finish it was a wild ass ride where we, the fandom, AND the characters spent the whole time questioning Lu Guang and his motives

and...puzzlingly... didn't really get an answers by the end of the season

Lu Guang wasn't granted any post-climax time to explain what happened that day from his perspective, and while Cheng Xiaoshi was possessing him he didn't get any answers because he literally WAS Lu Guang, just doing whatever the hell he thought he needed to do.

the thing about Hostage that has always felt extremely off to me, is that we DO get explanations for Lu Guang's actions during the episode, but they're from people wholly unqualified to be giving them.

Captain Xiao finds Lu Guang's phone, hidden in a folded towel, and concludes that Lu Guang had left them clues. Qiao Ling, after seeing that Lu Guang had taken a photo that night, came to the conclusion that Cheng Xiaoshi must have been the one possessing Lu Guang during his deranged rescue plan at the pier, seeing as Lu Guang wasn't an adept fighter at the dojo and he was acting extremely impulsive. She even goes so far to say, later in the episode, that Cheng Xiaoshi HAS to dive into the photo, because it's already happened, and needs to follow Lu Guang's words to not change the timeline.

all of these assumptions, to me, are horseshit

I refuse to listen to ANYTHING Captain Xiao says. one, because he simply does not know these kids and should not be making assumptions about them, and two he is in fact the worst cop in the world. and Qiao Ling, bless her heart, has only found out how their powers work mere DAYS ago and doesn't understand the nuances of them at all

so I'm gonna debunk all that nonsense and explain to you what Lu Guang's REAL actions were that night, and what was up with that cryptic photo he took

now you might be thinking, Kelly, you're not even starting in the right place, because those weren't Lu Guang's actions, they were always Cheng Xiaoshi's, just in Lu Guang's body!

FALSE. on two counts! we have evidence of Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi performing the act of escaping the hospital differently. Lu Guang does not use the kettle to break the window to distract the cops. we're not sure what he uses, but that kettle is still there.

Lu Guang also places his phone face down in the towel

while Cheng Xiaoshi places it faceup

so by the end of the episode we have literal, physical evidence that these two performed this timeline differently, and therefore it was not "Cheng Xiaoshi the whole time" like Qiao Ling tried to misinform us to believe. i also have another Big Brain post [x] that explains why Lu Guang being an impulsive, supposedly "good" fighter during that pier rescue scene are both in-character for him.

(and if we wanna get really nitpicky about how an injured Lu Guang could have raced across town in his condition, i simply believe that Lu Guang was smarter about it that Cheng Xiaoshi, and probably took a bus or cab. Cheng Xiaoshi, pure of heart and dumb of ass, ran because HE physically could while inhabiting Lu Guang's body. our injured catboy did not sprint across town while holding his organs in place)

so if we already have all this cold, hard evidence stating that Lu Guang really is THAT bitch and did all that shit on his own, what the hell is my problem? why can I not let this episode go?

BECAUSE I WANNA KNOW WHY LU GUANG TOOK THAT PHOTO

Captain Useless seems to think that Lu Guang took that photo as some sort of helpful clue left behind for the gang

but what, pray tell, was this photo supposed to tell us without someone with Lu Guang's powers there to interpret it? without Lu Guang to tell him what to do, Cheng Xiaoshi left to his own devices knows just as much as himself as he does possessing Lu Guang

and, the bigger question, is if this was supposed to be some sort of almighty clue for the gang, why did he not text this photo to either Qiao Ling or Cheng Xiaoshi before escaping the hospital? he took the time to text Qiao Ling the location of the boat, did he not? why not the photo too? seems like a crappy way to clue someone in, to take a photo and save it on your password protected phone that you just went out of your way to hide from plain sight

because that's the thing! after the season finale we discover that Lu Guang's password is literally a reminder of his dive, or even more specifically, a reminder of his trauma. we KNOW that he didn't share his password with Cheng Xiaoshi, he just just happened to figure it out on his own

so tell me how Lu Guang expected this trauma-password protected phone, with it's one singular picture, to get in the hands of Cheng Xiaoshi, hmm? riddle me THAT

so we've established by now that 1. Lu Guang's actions in the beginning of episode 8 were indeed his own and 2. that photo was never meant to be seen by Cheng Xiaoshi, who shouldn't have known Lu Guang's passcode

given the trauma-passcode, we have to believe that the only person ever meant to see this photo was Lu Guang. i've made ANOTHER post previously [x] stating that Lu Guang might have used his powers in a way we haven't known possible, by taking a photo and using his Blue Eyes White Dragon powers to see 12 hours into the immediate future

plausible, but not what i'm about to propose now.

because I think Lu Guang took that photo as a contingency plan

listen, the only person who had ANY credentials to theorize what Lu Guang was up to that night was his trusted partner. while Qiao Ling and Captain Xiao spouted their nonsense theories, Cheng Xiaoshi said the only smart thing that entire brainstorming session

and I think Cheng Xiaoshi was right. he wasn't wrong in assuming this photo was a Save Point of sorts, the only thing he was wrong about was who would be using it

the only other person in this show capable of diving into a photo, we find out during the finale, is Lu Guang

we also find out in the finale that powers are transferrable, and it looks like they transfer when the owner of that power dies in someone else's arms

Lu Guang took that photo that night NOT for Cheng Xiaoshi to find and use, but for LU GUANG himself to use. i believe Lu Guang firmly believed that Cheng Xiaoshi was to die that night, and he would do everything in his power to make sure he had a chance to change it again if he needed to.

that meant:

1.taking a photo on his phone as a Save Point.

2. hiding his phone in the hospital bathroom so it could not be taken from him or busted later in the night. and

3. racing to where he knew Cheng Xiaoshi would be, so he could either

4. a.) rescue him, or b.) ensure that during CXS's death, the diving power was transferred back to him so he could do the night over again.

Lu Guang took that photo as contingency plan to save Cheng Xiaoshi's life should he get killed that night.

but that plan was botched when Cheng Xiaoshi used it instead to possess Lu Guang, because each photo can only be used once.

which might also explain why Lu Guang was SO DISTRAUGHT when Cheng Xiaoshi was shot

they had deleted all their photos earlier that week to prevent the twins from possessing them remotely

that was the last photo Lu Guang had taken. the ONLY photo on his phone. if Cheng Xiaoshi died that night, there would have been no Save Point to return to

[ohisms]

↪   ᵀᴴᴱ 𝑀𝐼𝐶𝐾 .    (  a  series  of  sentence  starters  from  season  1  of fox's sitcom ,  “ the mick ” .   adjust  phrasing  as  necessary . will be updated !  )

oh my god , why do you have gasoline ?!

we're fine , not that it's any of your concern .

stay out of trouble .

no , you're not coming in with me .

you're embarrassing . you embarrass me . i'm embarrassed of you .

can i bum a smoke , please ?

it's okay , i already have a dollar .

i get the sense that you're in need a lot .

i don't have a problem . you do , otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation .

what do you mean ? you invited me .

i got into yale , that doesn't mean i'm going .

the scales of justice tip in favor of the wealthy .

if we throw enough money at this thing , i'm sure it'll go away .

let's catch up in ten years when you need another loan .

i feel like we got off on the wrong foot .

i want you to come to me with boy problems . or girl problems , i don't assume .

i know you think you're pretty clever with this plan to drink me under the table , but there's two problems ... you're not , .. & you can't .

she's not dead , i can see her breathing .

i cannot count the number of times i've been ripped off a barstool & thrown in a cage .

i should probably get out of the house , yesterday kinda got away from me .

i don't like these people . but i like you .

why are we at a poor person's restaurant ?

don't touch my stuff , psycho .

no , i don't believe you . you're lying .

uh , i don't know , maybe because you're a lying bitch .

okay , look , i understand this stuff is really hard to hear .

let's just keep our voices down , okay ?

you think i care about these idiots ?

what is wrong with you ? you're making a scene .

how's that for a scene ?! dinner & a show !

i know what you're up to , & you're not gonna get away with it .

i'm sorry , you think you're in charge ?

once all this is gone , all that's left is this . & nobody wants just this .

wait , wait , wait ! i'm coming with you !

i will only go if i have your blessing .

if you need anything at all , do not hesitate to call 911 .

[ name ] , my beautiful angel !

i heard about that little accident you had .

so , this is it ! home sweet home .

holy crap , you're alive ...

what are you doing here ? are you living at my place ?

okay , i'm sensing some major hostility here .

i thought you were dead !

don't pay attention to him , he's no one .

— i'm just kidding ! oh , i'm so sorry , your face ...

no ... you're joking — this is a joke , right ?

i'm gonna go freshen up , this'll be fun !

my legs are heavy , but my mind is light ...

wait , why is my window open ?

do i look like i'm playing games ?

we both burnt that bridge , it doesn't matter who lit the match .

i need you to do me a favor , i did you a favor .

oh , thank god you're here . you've gotta help us .

oh , i'm not going anywhere .

what do you want me to do about it ?

knock - knock ... can i come in ?

oh ... i get it . you're jealous .

enough with the guessing games , i'm freaking out over here .

fine . i'll fix this myself .

i thought we agreed i'm the boss ?!

if you saw my silence as agreeing with you , that's on you .

don't take it personally , his heart just isn't for sale .

not now , [ name ] , i'm gloating .

[ name ] ?! since when do you smoke ?

HEY .. !! [ name ] . just the person i wanted to see .

i haven't gone this long without a smoke in years .

either be part of the solution or get the hell out .

well , now i feel like you're lying .

regardless of how we got here , i'm having a really good time .

is it ? is it creepy to be ahead of everybody at all times ?

i want to squeeze you around your neck until you can't breathe .

i said that forever ago when i was young and dumb .

if i were you , i would take this opportunity to lay low .

that's the opposite of what i just suggested .

[ name ] , you've been overruled .

i don't mean to offend you , you don't fit the [ surname ] brand .

it's already happening , we're becoming socially radioactive .

i'm sorry , that night is a blur of bad pinot and intolerable conversation .

oh , so you're a liar too ?

i was sitting at home , and then i remembered you're not my boss .

what's the matter ? little plan didn't work ?

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Five-Point Star: The Aftermath (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Bodyguard/Assassin!Chan x Mercenary/Assassin!F.Reader Themes: Smut | bit of Fluff | Angst  Word Count: ~17k | AO3 Synopsis: After months of hindering a mercenary’s attempts to get to the person Chris was hired to protect, after months of many fights, injuries, and plotting, he had expected for the resolution to be much more satisfactory than this. [This is the second and hopefully final part to Five-Point Star]. Warnings: pet names · cold weapons · firearms · questionable morals · graphic depictions of violence · mentions of cheating [not involving the main characters] · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) · open-ish ending.

Author’s Note: here’s the promised second part to FPS! i just couldn’t bring myself to leave these two the way i did in part 1… like, part 1 can totally stand as its own thing, but i HAD to have some closure. i’ve been working on this one for quite some time, so here it is! i hope you enjoy it💜 especial thanks to @notastraykid & @channieskies for beta-reading this one💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here!)

Smut Warnings: fingering [F.Rec] · oral [F.&M.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv] · no thoughts, head empty sex [aka having sex in questionable locations].

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

After months of hindering a mercenary’s attempts to get to the person Chris was hired to protect, after months of many fights, injuries, and plotting, he had expected for the resolution to be much more satisfactory than this.

Well, he wasn’t sure if this was a resolution, if the problem had been eradicated or not… He wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Seungmin, along with Chris and his team, had nicknamed that mercenary the Wraith, since it was hard to predict when they would strike, and it was pretty much impossible to find traces of their identity no matter how hard they tried. 

Whenever Chris managed to once again frustrate the Wraith’s attempts at–presumably–harming Seungmin, there simply weren’t any signs that they’d been there in the first place at all. Well, save for any injuries Chris sustained during their encounter.

He had no doubt as to what drove the Wraith to do what they did–or at least he thought he didn’t have any. This hadn’t been the first time someone had been hired to do something to Seungmin. After all, being the child of one of the most powerful families in the city certainly put a target on his back. However, this had been by far the most difficult enemy Chris and his team had to deal with.

It was frustrating, really. The Wraith seemed to always be one step ahead of them no matter how hard they tried to keep the young Kim’s schedule and plans a secret. It wasn’t until they discovered that the phone of Seungmin’s personal tailor–Hyunjin–had been wiretapped, that they were finally able to get the upper hand.

Chris had conjured this plan to get the Wraith to believe Seungmin would be attending an event in one of the oldest theatres in the city. There, Chris would be waiting for them. 

He’d admit he was cocky. He’d asked his team to not come with him, he’d told them he had to do this alone, giving them a bullshit excuse.

‘If we’re all there, Seungmin won’t be as protected as he should be, so I’m gonna be there on my own while you guys make sure he’s safe’, that was exactly what he’d told them back then, but, in reality, Chris just wanted to do this on his own because his own pride was hurt.

Chris was decent at his job. Sometimes–admittedly most times–he even believed he was good at it. But in the deep recesses of his mind, he couldn’t help but feel like the Wraith was better than him. It was more than obvious. If they hadn’t been, he would’ve been able to kill them on their very first encounter. 

Regardless, he’d gone to the theatre on his own, where he waited for the Wraith to make their expected appearance. He figured that playing the piano would elevate his plan. He hoped it’d give his opponent the impression that nothing was out of place, that this was a normal concert, and they had nothing to be suspicious of.

Funny thing, how after so many months of pushing and pulling, it was almost like Chris could already tell when the Wraith was close. So the moment they’d stepped into the hall, he’d immediately stopped his piece and shot on sight. 

It all became a blur of flying knives and missed shots, until there was no other option but to physically fight. 

The Wraith was better than Chris, and he came face to face with this fact the moment his back had hit the floor and a knife had been pressed to his neck. He’d been, once again, defeated. He was blinded by rage, by frustration…

How could this person be better than him? No one had been until this point. Sure, he’d sustained many injuries throughout his career as Seungmin’s personal bodyguard, and he’d certainly been close to dying many times, but the Wraith had managed to beat him every single time they met. It irked him beyond belief.

Chris liked to cover his face when he was on duty, at least when he was out in public. He didn’t want people to know his face, he liked to be able to go to the grocery store or meet his girlfriend without having to worry about someone recognising him and trying to kill him, so he wore his mask diligently.

But, of course, his opponent had to remove it.

Of course they wanted to see his face, it made sense to him. But the fact that it made sense didn’t diminish the blow to his pride, though.

‘…Chris?’

No one had ever spoken his first name out loud while he’d been on duty outside of the Kims’ estate. Not even his team members, they knew not to expose him like that. He liked to keep his civilian side and his professional side separated, so he figured he’d give some use to both of his given names. 

Which was why, hearing it in that context, from the Wraith, made his blood freeze in his veins. He was beyond confused, borderline panicking, but even then, the voice sounded… familiar.

Chris realised then he’d never heard the Wraith speak. And as he looked into their eyes, even the shape of their eyebrows–the only discernible feature on their face under the hood and kerchief they wore to keep the rest concealed–recognition started to settle in his brain.

But there was no way. It couldn’t have been… 

His opponent was stunned, as was he. But that didn’t stop him from slowly reaching for that kerchief covering half of their face so he could pull it down.

Nothing would’ve prepared Chris for what he’d find under that piece of fabric. 

Chris always loved to see his girlfriend whenever he could. It was honestly a miracle that he was able to have a relationship in the first place, but she’d just made it so easy from day one, so he always tried to make time and space for her in his life. Seeing her always brought him this immense sense of comfort and familiarity that just couldn’t be matched.

However, this was a setting in which he would’ve never expected to see her face. This didn’t feel comforting at all.

Your name came out of his mouth in a breathless whisper, almost as if he needed to say it outloud for his brain to truly process that it was you on top of him, pressing a knife to his throat. His head started to spin right then and there.

Had you… had you known all this time? Had you been using him? There was no way. Something in the back of his mind told him it was just impossible. He’d been careful…

The few times he actually wanted to reveal his profession to you, something always seemed to prevent him from doing so, and he always took it as a sign that it wasn’t the right time. But maybe you’d known who he was this whole time…

‘I had no idea…’

The look on your face, coupled with the way your voice trembled, made him believe you. And maybe, he wanted to believe you. There was no way the love you’d shown him all these months could be faked, not when it’d felt so genuine…

How fucking twisted… What were the odds of you being both his girlfriend and one of the most annoying mercenaries he’d had to deal with?

God, these past handful of months… He’d been dealing with you.

He’d been trying to kill you.

He’d aimed and shot and hit you with the intent of killing you.

Chris wanted to vomit. He was disgusted with himself, confused, he wanted to cry. This was all so absurd and cruel… It’d been a long time since he’d felt this way, but at that moment, he genuinely just wanted to die.

He was used to killing and hurting people. He was never fazed by any of it at this point, but he’d done it because he wanted to protect the people he cared about. You being on the receiving end of this treatment was just completely wrong. You were one of the people he cared about. He’d never wanted anything other than to protect your safety and wellbeing. 

Chris was a firm believer that men who mistreated their loved ones were just scum, that they deserved to die. He’d often killed men like these and felt absolutely no remorse about it.

But now he was one of those men.

How could he go on after this? After knowing what he’d done to you? He couldn’t… He didn’t want to.

At that moment, he firmly believed he deserved to die. He’d hurt you, not only that, but Seungmin’s life was way more important than his own, so if you absolutely had him as your target, he’d just have to continue fighting against you.

And, again, he didn’t want to…

So he asked you to kill him.

However, you refused.

The fact that you wouldn’t take his life puzzled him. How could you not want him dead? After all that had transpired, why wouldn’t you? 

Chris had always known he wasn’t a good man. At least, not in the eyes of some. But, he’d made it his mission to be a good man to you, for you… And, most times, when he was with you, he truly felt like he was. 

This changed it all. His own perception of himself had just been shattered to pieces. Who was he now? Who were you?

‘Baby…’ Chris honestly almost started sobbing when you called him that. It was his preferred pet name, he’d told you many times before how much he liked it, how it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside… Right at that moment, it didn’t make him feel that way. It felt like one of your knives had just stabbed his heart. ‘I’m sorry… I don’t think I’ll make it to our vacation this weekend’.

Oh, that stung.

Your vacation this weekend… He’d planned it all out. A relaxing getaway to the coastside, perfect for enjoying each other’s company… He’d even wanted to seriously tell you everything about this side of his life, and if you’d been fine with it, he wanted to ask you to move in with him.

Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen now.

Chris was too stunned to move from his place on the floor. Too stunned to move and do anything to stop you from leaving. He was torn, confused, he was here to kill the Wraith, and not only did he not achieve that, he’d also found out that the person he’d been trying to kill was one of the people he loved most in this world.

The rage he felt coursing through him was uncontainable. So much so, the moment he did manage to stand up from that floor, he started thrashing the stage.

Every piano had been turned to nothing but a pile of useless pieces of wood and ivory. He’d emptied his guns by shooting at the seats and walls. He did all that as tears wouldn’t stop running down his cheeks.

How fucking pathetic.

He was pathetic.

Even when he had composed himself enough to return to the Kims’ estate, Chris still felt like he was nothing but the worst man on the planet, like he was useless as a bodyguard, like he was useless as his loved ones’ protector, and like he’d become the universe’s punching bag…

“Based on that look on your face, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you didn’t get the target?” Felix’s voice greeted him as soon as he entered Seungmin’s home, further aggravating those feelings inside of him.

“No, I didn’t”, was the only thing he said to the younger man as he walked past him and made his way straight to his assigned room. 

Chris was in no condition to speak of the matter. He needed to sort his thoughts out. He knew he had to tell his team about what happened, he had to tell them who you were. He had more than enough information about you to finally stop you from getting any closer, he had enough information to end you.

As he entered his room and started taking his gloves off, as he looked at the tiny plastic gnome figurine he kept on this room’s bedside table, Chris wasn’t really sure he’d be able to do any of that.

The sound of choked coughs filled the previously quiet space.

Chris sat up abruptly on the bed, coughing violently since he, once again, had choked on his spit in his sleep.

With a trembling hand, he reached for the bottle of water he kept next to the bed. When the coughing had lessened, he chugged half the bottle in one gulp. 

‘You should really go to the doctor’s, baby…’

Your voice resonated in his mind, an echo of the mix of memories from the numerous times you’d woken him up before he started coughing. He remembered the gentle murmur like it’d been whispered to him yesterday. He could practically feel the soft caresses of your fingertips on his back.

It made him feel like his throat was closing for real.

After placing the bottle back on the bedside table, he plopped back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Chris couldn’t help but remember you. It seemed like it was all he did these days. 

His brain was certainly his worst enemy, especially at times like these, when he wasn’t on active duty, when he was just trying to get a few hours of sleep in his assigned room. Within the solitude of these four walls, it was easy for his brain to attack him, to send him in a spiral of memories that did nothing but make his heart ache and his eyes sting…

“Aaahhh… The food was absolutely delicious”, you rubbed your belly as you walked, with a big smile on your face. “I feel like I’m about to burst… But seriously, though, you should’ve at least let me pay for my food”.

Chris looked at you, amused at how you slightly swayed side to side with each step. He, too, felt like he was about to burst. The meal had been good, it’d been amazing, but… the company had certainly been much better.

When was the last time he felt like this? This… calm? Calm, but somehow still a bit giddy. He genuinely couldn’t recall…

“Nonsense”, he waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss the thought. “I invited you for dinner, didn’t I? ‘Least I could do was pay”.

You turned to look at him, pouting, and it was honestly… adorable.

You were adorable, he’d known this since the very first day he met you, but every time he saw you after that, you somehow managed to step it up a notch. And he truly couldn’t cope.

Chris could hardly believe he was here tonight, having a date, and with a person he genuinely liked at that. It’d been a long time since he’d done anything remotely close to going on a date, but a few nights ago, after spending another evening talking to you at one of his friend’s gatherings, he found himself asking you out before he could stop himself.

It was unplanned, uncalculated, which was so unlike him… He always tried to plan ahead. Considering the profession he was in, he had to carefully choose who he associated himself with. Chris hardly ever mingled with civilians, but when he did, it was usually with this particular friend group from his childhood, who you seemed to also be acquainted with through a friend of yours.

The first time he spoke with you, he thought he was making a fool of himself, but as the night progressed, something started to linger between you two… Call it tension, or chemistry, but he was certainly intrigued.

Every time he went to his friend’s house to socialise, you were there. And every time, his always ended up with him sitting next to you, talking well into the wee hours of the night, about the silly shows you watched, or anything you felt like talking about, really.

Chris genuinely enjoyed talking to you, which he figured was exactly the reason why he’d asked you out on a date. He was honestly tired of seeing you only in the confines of his friend’s fence, it just wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

“C’mon, no pouts”, Chris chuckled, taking your hand. You seemed to be a bit surprised at the action, and, being honest, he was surprised at the action. But he’d already done it, so he wouldn’t back down. Thankfully, even if it had surprised you, you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you intertwined your fingers with his, effectively agitating the butterflies in his stomach. “Let’s take a walk, hm?”

With leisure steps, you walked until you found yourselves at the pier. There were people here, but it wasn’t overly crowded, which Chris was grateful for.

Just before you both made it to the railing so you could look at the sea, you exclaimed an excited ‘Oh!’, and bent down to pick up something from the ground.

“Look!” You showed Chris what you found, and he couldn’t keep the smile from forming on his lips. “It’s just a little guy!”

Chris chuckled at your outburst. He giggled. You’d just made him giggle… When was the last time he giggled like this? “It really is!”

“D’you wanna give him a home?” You wiggled the figurine in front of him. “I heard these can be tokens of good luck”.

Chris immediately extended his palm, and you carefully placed the plastic toy in his hand. A gnome, around half the size of his finger. For having been found on the ground, it didn’t look in bad shape, it was honestly cute, so he put it in his pocket, and placed his hand over his heart after.

“Promise I’ll take good care of him”, Chris smiled at you. “I do need some luck”.

You chuckled at that, before you tugged him along so you could finally make it to the railing. With your elbows propped on it, you both spent a good while there, just talking, joking, and enjoying the sound of the waves crashing against the breakwater.

It was… nice. Relaxing, even. 

He didn’t really know how he found himself standing so close to you, moving a few strands of hair away from your face and caressing your cheek with his knuckles. Most shockingly to him, was how you let him do these things. You looked comfortable, like you were genuinely enjoying spending time with him.

“If I tried to kiss you… would you let me?” The words escaped from somewhere deep within him. A question that he’d had in the back of his mind every time he looked at your lips, every time he saw you smile or laugh. He’d never thought he’d say it out loud, but here he was, saying them to you directly.

“Yes”, there wasn’t a single gram of hesitation in your voice, although he was sure he could hear a hint of surprise. It was almost like, just as his question, your answer had come out of your mouth before you could stop to think about it.

Your lips were so soft… you tasted like the balm you’d applied a few minutes ago, and the minty gum you’d been chewing earlier. Your cheeks, too, were soft under his palms when he held them between his hands.

Chris was certain you were soft all over. You looked soft, and maybe that was why his hands had found their way to your hips, where he could mindlessly knead the flesh over your jeans while his mouth was too busy getting acquainted with yours.

He pulled away from the kiss briefly, only to be met with a shy smile on your face before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in again. He couldn’t stop the delighted laugh that bubbled within him, nor the way he dived in fully into your kiss.

Maybe that gnome was lucky. Maybe it was thanks to that gnome that he’d somehow managed to come back to his flat accompanied for once. At least the one time he did want to come back with someone…

Chris could barely remember the last time another person was here with him. It must’ve been with one of his siblings, for sure. He had no doubts that he’d never brought anyone he was remotely attracted to in here, but he figured tonight was a night of trying new things.

Like pretending he could be just some guy… that he could be normal.

He hadn’t truly processed what was going on until you were both on his bed, dressed in nothing but your underwear. Propped on his elbows, he just looked at you.

You were wearing a black set, with a repeating pattern of red hearts on both pieces. It was… cute. In his humble–and absolutely correct–opinion, it fit you amazingly, you looked gorgeous under him like this, looking up at him like you genuinely wanted him. Like you saw him.

Which… made him feel nervous. 

Anyone else would’ve told him it was a silly thing to feel in this context. Chris had had plenty of sex in his life, but right here, right now, he wasn’t sure if this was anything like the sex he used to have. It didn’t feel like it, for sure. Mostly because he was feeling things. It wasn’t a chore or a commitment, there was genuine desire spreading within him, and it was a bit scary…

“What’s wrong?” you mumbled, cupping his cheeks.

Chris swallowed, suddenly aware that he’d zoned out for a moment there, long enough for the need reflecting in your eyes to start mixing with concern. Should he tell you what was going through his mind? If he did, would you mind…?

Tonight was indeed a night of firsts, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to open up fully. It was enough of a miracle that he’d let you into his flat, that he himself had willingly brought you here after a date.

“I…” Chris figured there were things he shouldn’t talk about just yet, but he really, really liked you, so saying something that was true, without revealing any details of his past, felt right. And he did just that. “I haven’t really… It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, okay? I guess I’m just… a bit out of my element”.

“Oh…” Your eyes widened in surprise, and your hands moved away from his face to rest on his shoulders instead.

Fuck… He fucked up. He probably shouldn’t have said that. Why did he have to be honest? He should’ve pretended, like he always did…

“Yeah, sorry to be a disappointment”, he chuckled, although it didn’t sound very humorous, not even to his ears.

“What? No, no”, you squeezed his shoulders, and your gaze immediately softened. “I’m just surprised! I just wasn’t expecting someone like you to just… y’know, not be having sex”.

That made him chuckle, genuinely this time. “What do you mean? I can’t even believe you’re here. I’ve got no idea how we managed to get to this point, honestly”.

“You’re very charming”, bringing your hands to his face again, you smiled at him. “If it makes you feel any better, I also haven’t… really done this in a while. I don’t usually go on dates at all… but I guess you’ve really made an impression on me. Clearly”.

That did make Chris feel slightly better.

“We don’t really have to do anything, y’know?” You said it very seriously, with no hesitation. “It’s fine by me, really. Although, I’d appreciate some cuddles anyway, if that’s okay with you”.

It was such a simple thing.

He didn’t have to do anything.

He could say no if he wanted to, and, somehow, he knew you’d respect that. Or, at the very least, he wanted to believe you would respect that. You hadn’t shown him any differently so far.

“Oh, we’re definitely cuddling…” Chris dived in, finding your neck with ease to attach his lips to your skin. “Later, though…”

“Later?” You chuckled, burying one of your hands in his hair, and placing the other on his lower back. 

“Mm…” With a trail of kisses, Chris made his way down your neck, your chest, finally using his hands to further push your breasts together so he could bury his face between them. “I really want you”.

And he really, really did. Probably more than he’d wanted anyone in a long time.

“I want you, too”, you replied simply, honestly.

It was one of the things Chris had liked about you since the very first moment he spoke with you. Your honesty, your transparency… you never really seemed to care about keeping pretences, always went straight to the point and voiced your thoughts.

Chris was a taker. He took lives, took money, took territories… he took things from people as he saw fit. Whether it was the right thing to do or not he didn’t care. 

But that wasn’t his inherent nature, and he’d always been painfully aware of this. For a long time, he’d been trained to take things, he was good at it, but, deep down, he was a giver.

To the people that were close to him, to the people that really knew him, he yearned to give all he could offer. 

That night, he really wanted to give you everything. So he did.

It was all so vulnerable, but so exhilarating at the same time. To not feel judged, nor belittled, to be open with his wants and needs, to be consumed by fire and passion… It was something he wasn’t used to, but the more time passed with you two in his bedroom, the more he realised just how much he liked it, how much he liked you…

With the first orgasm he managed to coax out of you, he realised just how much he wanted this to be a thing, he felt that you were just so compatible. Physically, emotionally, and, with a bit of luck, romantically, too.

Even after a couple of hours, when he was already giving you those cuddles he’d promised, when he asked you to stay the night, basking in the post-orgasm buzz, he believed wholeheartedly that this could work.

‘You’ll call me back, right?’ Chris couldn’t help himself when he asked you that the morning after your date.

It was crazy. There was no real space in his life for a relationship, not when he had to hide his profession from you. What would you think of him once you knew that the majority of the time he was a cold-blooded assassin, and not the dorky guy you met through a friend of a friend?

He would’ve liked to be like you. Honest and straightforward, but maybe it was for the best to not mention this just yet. It was only just one date, just one night of quite possibly the most fulfilling sex he’d ever had, but he already knew that this was something he wanted. He wanted to hold onto this feeling for as long as possible, he wanted you.

‘Would you like that?’ You’d asked amusedly, before you kissed him, standing right on the entrance of his flat.

‘I would’. 

You’d smiled at him. After pressing one final kiss on his cheek, you mumbled against his skin. ‘Maybe I will, then…’

And you did.

In recent years, Chris had never felt as happy as he did when he was with you. He wholeheartedly believed that his relationship with you was one of the best things to ever happen to him.

At least, until that night in the theatre.

Reminiscing the past was hard these days, especially after the first month without hearing from you. He’d gone through so many different emotions. He felt angry, sad, and sometimes even betrayed…

He’d always believed you to be a transparent person, and maybe you were, but, just like himself, you clearly wanted to keep this part of yourself in the dark. He supposed he couldn’t blame you, but it still bothered him. 

Why didn’t you tell him before? 

If you’d told him, you would’ve probably never been in this situation. The Wraith’s attacks started well after you’d gotten together, so, if he’d known who you were, and you’d known who he was, he was convinced none of this would’ve happened at all.

Chris would’ve liked to tell you all this, to shout and get all these thoughts and feelings off his chest. But every time he picked up the phone to call you, he chickened out.

At first, he told himself that it was to keep things less complicated. In reality, he just couldn’t stand the thought of the call not going through…

So he didn’t do anything.

He was too tired, and maybe too much of a coward to face this.

Maybe one day, he’d grow the balls to do it. Maybe one day he’d get some sort of closure, but that day clearly wouldn’t be any time soon.

Chris often spent his nights on patrol around the Kims’ estate. He couldn’t really bring himself to sleep at night, so he was usually working well into the morning, until they changed guard.

Although, no one really dared come here. Since he became one of Seungmin’s personal bodyguards years ago, there’d been only two instances in which someone tried to infiltrate his home. 

Both times, the person had ended up dead, of course. That was the Five-Point Stars’ sole purpose, to keep the young heir safe. Chris was genuinely proud of his team, they always carried out their task without hesitation, and he was convinced their skills were unmatched.

Tonight, though, something didn’t feel quite right. There was this feeling of dread inexplicably pooling in Chris’ stomach, and it was making it really hard to focus on doing his job.

It was close to midnight when the feeling started intensifying, so Chris moved from his post outside Seungmin’s wing of the estate, leaving Jeongin on his own to guard the space. If anything went down, the younger man would be more than capable of taking care of it, Chris was very confident in this, so he felt no reservations when he started patrolling the outer areas.

After a while of just walking, he just couldn’t ignore his gut feeling any further.

There was someone sneaking around in the Kims’ estate, Chris could feel their every move, but he couldn’t see them, and that made that feeling of uneasiness grow inside him. Not because he was scared, by any means, but because it all felt just how it did whenever he had to deal with the Wraith… whenever he had to deal with you.

Chris hadn’t heard from you in three months, not from the you that was his girlfriend–…ex-girlfriend?–nor the you that was the Wraith. He supposed, ultimately, you were both, just like he was both Chris and Chan, but it was still just so surreal to him…

Three months and his head still couldn’t wrap around the idea that you were both the person he loved, and the one he despised. Anyone that dared come anywhere near Seungmin with ill-intent was an enemy to him, but the more he pondered on the fact that you were doing that, the less he could see you as an enemy… And that, maybe, just maybe, did scare him.

You’d become his weakness, to the point where if he were to see you now, in this estate, trying to kill Seungmin, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to carry out his one and only task. He’d spent these last few months begging to the stars above his head that you wouldn’t try to get to Seungmin again, because he genuinely didn’t know if he’d be able to stop you.

As Chris followed his gut instinct, trying to chase that phantom of a presence that seemed to glide through the corridors, he started to come to terms with the fact that the possibilities of the intruder being you were just way too high, it was all too familiar… 

And he hated it.

He hated it all…

He caught a shadow moving in his peripheral vision, and not even thinking twice about it, he chased it–as quietly and stealthily as his skills let him.

Before he knew it, he had raised his gun and pressed it against the back of the person’s head, right against their hood. They raised both of their hands to signal they didn’t have any weapons at hand, and even if the movement should’ve eased his mind, it didn’t. It only confirmed his worst fear.

Knowing what he knew now, he could just recognise the fingers poking through the gloves’ holes, and the overall frame.

There you stood, after three months of nothing, dressed just how you had been the last time he saw you. Chris tried his best to ignore the lump that seemed to be growing in his throat, the desperate need to both scream and cry and hug you and push you away. 

Instead, he just pressed the muzzle of his gun a bit harder against your skull, taking a deep breath before he spoke. “What’re you doing here?”

Your shoulders seemed to relax the tiniest bit as you heard the sound of his voice, which, in other circumstances, Chris would’ve deemed a very foolish reaction on your part. But, being honest, he wouldn’t be surprised if you already knew it’d be incredibly hard for him to harm you.

“Looking for you”.

Cursed be his heart for jumping in his ribcage, it was almost embarrassing how quickly and easily the sound of your voice was able to kick-start it into a messy, erratic pace. Chris couldn’t let that show, though. He needed to bluff, and he needed to do it well. 

“Bullshit”, he swallowed, trying to get rid of that knot in his throat. It just made it worse. “What are you truly here for?”

Your shoulders rose and fell with your deep breath, and slowly, so very slowly, you started to move, to turn around so you could finally be face to face with him. You kept your hands up in the air, to show him you weren’t going to attack, but he just couldn’t let his guard down. Not any more than it already was.

As usual, the lower part of your face was covered by a black kerchief, and the hood of your outfit almost fell over your eyes. The sight was almost revolting, if he thought about it too deeply… His gun raised, pressed against your forehead, ready to be shot at any second. It was something out of his worst nightmares, of those that showed him himself hurting the people he loved.

“I’m telling you the truth, I’ve been looking for you. I’ve come to warn you”.

“Warn me?” The statement was so unexpected Chris couldn’t even hide the surprise in his voice, but he recovered quickly, trying to mask his emotions with a condescending scoff. “What could you possibly need to warn me about?”

“They’re coming for you”, you said simply, your eyes unwavering as they stared deeply into his.

“They being?”

“The Guild”, your fingers moved, but you weren’t doing anything particularly malicious, you simply used your thumb to crack each knuckle, a gesture he knew you did only when you were nervous.

You must’ve known he knew this detail about you. He’d tried to stop you from cracking your knuckles many times in the past, whenever you were watching a scary movie that made you anxious, or whenever you had to order at a new restaurant. Back then, he would always take your hand in his, and drag his thumb on the back of it to help ease those nerves.

Chris couldn’t do that now.

To display such weakness in front of him messed with his head. Were you doing it out of real nervousness, or were you doing it as a tactic to distract him…? 

Regardless, he knew of the Guild. He’d heard of them before. Essentially a hub of guns-for-hire, with an extensive catalogue of many different mercenaries, who specialised in different activities. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was who you really worked for, that it’d been through them that you were hired to get to Seungmin.

“Someone has been hired to do what I couldn’t do. I heard them talking and I just… I felt like I needed to warn you”.

“You could’ve just called, why come all the way here for that?” Chris’ arm was getting tired from holding up the gun, but he just couldn’t lower it.

“I tried”, you sighed. “I tried, but you wouldn’t pick up, so I came here…”

Chris’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You called? There was no way… He would’ve seen it. Hell, he would’ve picked up. Unless… “When did you call?”

“Around thirty minutes ago”.

That’d explain why he wouldn’t have heard it. He never carried his personal mobile phone with him when he was on duty–or at least he tried not to. He used to do it a couple of times a week, on the days that he missed you, that he wanted to know anything that had been going on in your day–what you ate, what you were doing, what you were watching, anything that could make him feel close to you… He hadn’t done that in three months.

“And it couldn’t wait?” Chris was doing an excellent job at keeping the scowl on his face and the annoyed tone in his voice, probably because he was feeling exactly like that. Annoyed. “You tried to hurt Seungmin and now you care about what happens to him? Hard to believe”.

“I don’t fucking care about Seungmin”, your eyebrows knitted together, and in a movement way too fast for someone that had a gun pointed to their forehead, you pulled your kerchief down, revealing your face fully to him.

It was almost pathetic how his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“I’ve got no ill feelings towards the kid, truly, but I also don’t really care about him. The people talking… They said they were going for Seungmin’s guard dog first, in hopes of debilitating his security system, so I… I just…”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. When you opened them again, the glint of vulnerability shining in your gaze made his heart ache.

“I know it’s crazy, fuck… I didn’t think this through. They’re planning on striking sometime this week, and I just felt like I needed to come and tell you, so you could be prepared”.

Chris swallowed thickly. His hand trembled the tiniest bit, he wasn’t sure if you could feel his gun tremble against your skin, too. “If any of this is true, how could I even know you’re not here to distract me from doing my job? That this isn’t one of your schemes?”

“You can’t know”, you said, matter-of-factly. “There’s no way for you to confirm what I’m saying is true. All you can do is trust me and my word. I dropped the job after our encounter in the theatre. I just can’t do it when I’m this emotionally involved”.

When I’m this emotionally involved…

When I’m…

I’m…

I am…

I am…

I am…

Present tense.

You said that in present tense, like you were… like you were still emotionally involved.

Chris was weak. He was weak for you. Three months with no contact couldn’t change that, the fact that you had tried to kill him couldn’t change that, and the fact that he had tried to kill you also didn’t seem to be able to change that.

He was weak, and he couldn’t hide it.

With a sigh, he lowered his gun, and your frame immediately relaxed as soon as the weapon wasn’t pointed in your direction. “How infuriating…”

“What? Me? Or the people coming for your boss?” There was the tiniest bit of a humorous tone in your voice, and it just made him sigh again.

“Both”, he took his communicator from his belt, and clicked the communication button to speak with his colleague. “SpearB, do you copy? Over”.

There were a few seconds of silence, until the communicator crackled and Changbin’s voice resonated from the device. “I hear you, Channie. Over”.

You arched an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest, mouthing a ‘Channie?’ at him, which Chris decided to ignore completely. 

“Check in with Yongbok and make sure the perimeter is secure. Something doesn’t feel quite right, so we need to keep a close eye on each and every entrance. Over”.

The device crackled again. “You think it’s the Wraith? Over”.

Chris looked at you, and you looked right back at him. Your body was tense once again, and a spark of doubt flashed in your eyes. Licking his lips, he clicked the button on the device once more. “No. No, I don’t think it’s the Wraith. Just do what I said, and let me know if you find anything out of order. Over”.

‘Roger that. Over!’ was the last thing Chris heard from Changbin. He returned the communicator to its holster on his belt, all without taking his eyes from you.

There was a moment of silence, a moment that seemed to be stretching far too long for his liking, so he cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “So… You’ve delivered your message. What now?”

You attempted to pop your knuckles again, the action obviously gave no results, since you’d done this already earlier, but Chris knew that wouldn’t stop you. It never did, your nervous habits always shone through.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, a door opened somewhere in the area, and the sound of Changbin’s whistling filled his ears. Your eyes widened, just like Chris’ did as you stared at one another.

This was dangerous. If anyone saw you, you were at risk of being tortured for information, or straight up killed because of your numerous attempts to hurt Seungmin.

Chris wasn’t thinking, he just had to act, and he had to do it fast. Taking your hand, he quickly pulled you further down the corridor, where he could push you against the wall, right behind a column to hopefully hide you both from his teammate. 

You opened your mouth again to say something, and Chris simply placed a hand over your mouth to stop you, bringing his index finger to his lips to signal you to not make any noise. 

As the sound of steps drew closer, Chris mindlessly pressed you further against the wall, hopefully minimising the chances of Changbin seeing you.

He held his breath, waiting patiently as he looked at the shadows his friend’s body casted against the nearby wall. 

When it seemed like the steps were becoming more and more distant, Chris looked back at you, and only then did he realise just how close you both were. Your bodice was rigid against his chest, and the handles of your knives poked his abdomen. Noses almost brushed against each other, the hand he’d placed on the wall was itching to hold your waist, and as he looked into your eyes, as he saw galaxies and a plethora of feelings swimming in them, he was almost winded by how warm you felt. 

Chris could barely hear Changbin’s footsteps over his heart beating this fast and loud in his ears.

Fuck, he was a weak man. 

A weak man who was still hopelessly in love. 

It took a couple of minutes for Changbin to finally leave the area completely, his exit was signalled by the sound of a door opening and closing. Just to be safe, though, he kept quiet for a while longer, he kept pressing you against the wall and his hand firmly on your mouth.

Just to be safe… No other ulterior motives at all…

After a few moments, he finally removed his hand away from your mouth, slowly, so very slowly moving it to rest against the wall instead, right next to your waist as well. You mindlessly licked your lips as soon as his hand was off your face, and Chris couldn’t help but focus on the movement. 

Oh, your lips… how he missed them… He missed the way they moved with every word you said, how you would mindlessly chew on them when you were focused, how they felt like against his own, against any and every part of his body… 

“Why are you here?” Chris’ voice was barely a whisper. He didn’t intend for the words to come out unsteady, nor for his hands to start trembling slightly against the wall, but it was hard for his body not to react this way when he’d spent all these weeks just steeping in his own misery. 

You took a deep breath, your chest rose and fell against his own, and right then, with the barely there illumination of the bulbs on the roof, he could see your eyes start to shine with the tears that welled in them. 

“Because I care about you”, you said it so easily, like you weren’t just reaching inside his ribcage and squeezing his weak little heart with such a simple statement. “I know it’s stupid. That it’s insane, considering everything that’s happened. But I really can’t help it. Every day, all I can think about is how you’d be. If you’re eating well, if you’re getting enough sleep… And I hate it”.

You were trying really hard not to let the tears fall, it was obvious to Chris, yet your voice didn’t waver, not a little bit.

“I hate that I worry about you knowing what I’ve done to you. I hate that I can’t stop caring. When I heard them talking tonight about how they wanted to hurt you I just… I couldn’t think straight, I had to do something”, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the wall.

Chris couldn’t say anything. He just couldn’t. He wanted to tell you that he couldn’t stop caring, either. That he felt guilty, yes, but he still cared. That he’d always care, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

When you opened your eyes again, those tears you were trying so hard to hold back started to silently fall, and he wanted to cry himself. “Warning you… it’s not much, and it’s probably more a selfish act than anything else, but I had to do it. I had to… had to see you. Because I miss you, Chris, fuck… I miss you so much it hurts more than any blow Chan has ever landed on me”.

Chris was doomed. He was weak, and in love, and he was absolutely doomed.

His brain shut down completely. He knew it the moment he felt his lips on yours, the moment your fingers tangled in his hair and the quietest moan escaped your mouth. 

The kiss was messy and desperate, he couldn’t seem to be able to be any closer to you, and yet he still tried. He held your waist tightly, like you would vanish if he didn’t. He pressed you further against the wall, dizzy with the violent stir of his feelings, with the feel of your tongue against his own and your yearning kiss.

At that moment, the fact that he was Chan, bodyguard of Kim Seungmin, didn’t matter. The fact that you were the Wraith, an assassin that had been hired to harm the person he was supposed to protect, didn’t matter, either. All that mattered was that he was Chris, that you were you, and that he’d missed you and that he needed you.

When he pulled back from the kiss, panting slightly, the sight of you, all flustered, breathless, of your blown pupils, was enough for his walls to crumble. That look in your eyes was unmistakable to him, it set his insides alight and sent his mind into overdrive.

“Come with me”, without hesitation, Chris took your hand and tugged you along the corridor.

He vaguely recalled taking his communicator and calling Jeongin to ask him to continue covering for him as there was something he needed to attend to, just like he vaguely recalled the younger man telling him he had it covered. The only thing he could register for sure was the tight hold of your hand in his, and the moan that came out of your lips when he pushed you into one of the supply closets and kissed you again.

Chris blindly reached for the lightswitch before he pushed you against the closest wall. One of your legs wrapped around his hip to pull him closer to you, and he immediately took a hold of your thigh to keep you securely in place.

“Have you… been with anyone after…” You started to ask, your words broken between desperate presses of lips and tugs of teeth.

How absurd. As if he could have. As if he would’ve ever even wanted that in the first place… Regardless, even with the hazy state of his mind, he knew exactly why you were asking, so he shook his head. “Have you?”

You shook your head as well, further pulling on his hair so your lips wouldn’t detach from his. Although there was a part of him that kind of expected you to not have been with anyone, it still made him feel relieved. It made him feel… hopeful.

What a dangerous emotion to feel.

Letting go of your thigh so he could free his hands, your leg fell to the floor while Chris unbuttoned his gloves. “Are you still on birth control?”

“Yes”, your reply came immediately, eagerly, and his mind just fogged up further.

“Good”, he pulled his gloves off and dropped them somewhere on the floor.

With a tight hold on your hips, he flipped you around and pulled your hips back a bit towards him, so your ass could be flush with his crotch. Chris kept kissing your cheek, your neck, any bit of exposed skin he could, just as you ground your backside against his growing erection, while he frantically fumbled with your belt buckle and the buttons of your trousers.

“How many fucking buttons does this thing have?” Chris mumbled against your skin, quickly popping open what seemed like hundreds of studs. “How impractical…”

“Looks better than a zipper–Oh!” 

Chris pushed your bottoms down as soon as he’d popped open the very last button, just enough to expose the delectable flesh of your ass to his hungry eyes. He wanted to smack the luscious fat so badly, but even in his desperate state, he knew it was a really, really bad idea, so he settled for holding one of your buttocks tightly with one hand, while he brought the other close to your face.

“Open up, bun”, your lips parted as soon as he’d asked you to, and he quickly pushed two fingers inside your mouth.

A moan muffled against his digits when you sucked on them, and Chris could almost start feeling his head spin with arousal. God, your mouth… He’d always known it’d be the death of him one day…

“That’s it, baby. Make sure you get them drenched”, after letting go of your buttock, he hastily unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, and pushed the zipper down so he could reach inside his underwear and finally free himself. 

The air was cool against his heated flesh, especially at the tip where pre-cum had started to leak. He pumped himself a couple of times, it was nowhere near as satisfactory as he knew your cunt would be, but it was certainly a pleasant warm-up.

As soon as he removed his fingers from your mouth, he brought them to your centre, where he made sure to coat his fingers in your essence to spread it all around your opening before he finally stuffed those two digits into you. You bit your lip to muffle the noises threatening to escape your throat, leaning your forehead against the wall as Chris tried his best to prep you in such an unfortunate setting.

“Tell me if it hurts. Hm? You know you can tell me, right?” Chris whispered in your ear, and you immediately nodded in response.

“Just… Fuck, just get inside, baby, please”, how could he stall any further when you sounded so eager and desperate for him, in the same way that he was for you? When you called him ‘baby’?

So he pulled his fingers out, making you whine at the loss of contact. It didn’t last long, though, because he stepped closer almost immediately after. He spat on his hand, and smeared his saliva all over his length before he lined himself with your entrance.

As he started to push in, he brought his free hand to your front, finding your clit with expert ease, rubbing slow circles on it to hopefully aid his intrusion. There was a whine, a quiet one, and Chris hushed you, kissing your cheek. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re doing well, so well. Remember to tell me if it’s too much…” He mumbled. It was almost funny how quickly he got into his role, he was so used to treating you like this, to checking in on you, that not even the place you were in, or the outfits you were wearing could stop him from doing it. All he got from you was a nod, a sigh that vaguely sounded like his name, and a push of your hips. “Impatient, bun? Hungry for my cock, are you, baby?”

You nodded, pushing back as much as you could to get him all the way in, making him hiss. “I am. I fucking am. Need you to fuck me, and I need it now, Christopher”. 

“Fuck…” It was an awkward angle, but he needed to kiss you. There was hardly anything he enjoyed more than kissing you while he was balls deep inside your warmth. Every push of his tongue, every bite on his lips, everything made it so your walls continuously clamped around him, all of it combined made him delirious, and even more so when he finally started to move.

Chris was trying his best to go slow, his mind was hazy with lust and need and want, but he still wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you. You, however, weren’t making it easy. You pushed back to sharply meet his calculated thrusts, and all he could do was match your pace, until the only noise in the room were the contained groans and moans and the obnoxious clattering of metal as both of your belt buckles swayed with your movements.

His fingers sped up, and very quickly, the obscene sounds produced when your bodies met joined the messy symphony playing all around you. Your grip on his hair was tight, the way your moans were catching in your throat was getting him impatient, he wanted to hear you properly, he wasn’t used to you holding back, and the sudden increased speed of his motions felt like it was his subconscious desperately trying to pull all those delicious sounds out of you.

He was talking. He knew he was talking, but he could barely hear what he was mumbling to you, all he knew was that, whatever it was, it had you whining quietly, meeting his thrusts harder, mumbling things back to him. 

Chris wanted to feel more of you, as much as he could, so he pulled his vest up, and took the hem between his teeth. He couldn’t talk like this, but he figured it was a small price to pay so he could feel your bottom freely bounce off his skin. Returning his hand to your hip, he held your soft flesh tightly, relishing the way the flesh dipped under his grip.

“C–Chris… Gonna–gonna come…” Your fingers flexed against the wall in what looked like a futile attempt to get a hold of something, to keep yourself grounded.

He wanted to tell you to come. Hell, he needed you to come around his cock right now or he would die, he was sure. But he couldn’t speak with the stupid fabric in his mouth, so he simply fucked you harder, faster, diligently rubbing that sensitive nub between your legs in that way he’d learnt to do throughout your numerous intimate encounters since the very beginning of your relationship.

Your relationship…

Were you two still in a relationship?

In all honesty, right then, with your presence consuming him, he hoped you were. 

The sight of you biting your fist to keep your moans contained, coupled with the feel of your warmth fluttering around his length as a result of your orgasm, made him lightheaded. His pace didn’t relent, though. He fucked you through it, just how he knew you liked it, while you did your best to weakly keep meeting his movements.

His lower abdomen tightened, he could feel his own climax nearing increasingly fast, and God, if he wanted that feeling to wash over him right the fuck now… 

He finally let go of the hem of his vest so he could speak. “Where–Shit… Where do you want it, pretty?”

At this point he would come anywhere, in you, on you, out of you… But he needed to do what you wanted, and what you wanted became painfully clear to him when you hastily removed one of your gloves, pushed him away from you a bit, and dropped to your knees.

Oh, how he’d missed the feel of your hand on him, and the squelching sounds it made when you jerked him off while he was still covered in your juices. You held him with that perfect pressure that you’d learnt to use all those months ago, looking up at him with dark eyes and your moist lips slightly parted as you still tried to catch your breath.

“Look at you, fuck–!” Chris threw his head back the moment you took him in your mouth, getting in as much of him as you could while gently squeezing his balls.

You hummed around his length, trying to get his attention, so Chris opened his eyes again, finding that look in your eyes that always got him close, the one that begged him to move. So he did, placing a hand on your head and shallowly thrusting into your mouth to complement your own movement.

“Fuck, bun… Gonna blow, shit–”

It was his turn now to bite his fist to contain his desperate noises. Three months of tension seemed to evaporate from his body when he found his release. He could only feel the tingles of pleasure shooting to every one of his limbs as your lips dragged around his cock, as you hummed and moaned in your own bliss.

His legs felt like they were going to give out, his arms felt like jelly, and his brain was void of anything other than you and your devious mouth. For a second, Chris wondered if you were going to try to overstimulate him, but you didn’t. You simply got your mouth off of him to lick the remnants of his cum that beaded at the tip.

Before he could even think about it, he was already helping you to your feet. Cupping your cheeks, he kissed you. Slowly, deeply, getting the combined taste of him and you from your lips and your tongue.

Your arms wrapped around his waist, and Chris wrapped his around your neck as he waddled forward to press you against the wall again. Partially because he enjoyed the feeling of it, partially because he felt like his legs were really going to give out, and the wall certainly provided much needed support.

As his kiss slowed into simple pecks of his lips on yours–and yours on his–the haze that seemed to have clouded every single one of his senses started to clear up.

In what was quite possibly the worst case of post-nut clarity he’d ever experienced, it started to dawn on him just how stupid and reckless this was. He shouldn’t have brought you in here, the longer you stayed within this estate the more at risk you both were.

You seemed to be coming to the same realisation, because the gentle pecks of your lips on his stopped, and you pulled back to look him in the eyes, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. Your arms unravelled from around his waist, only for your hands to rest on it. “Chris…”

He closed his eyes and sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I know…”

Stupid. You wanted to tell him this was stupid, he didn’t need you to say it to know.

Pressing lingering kisses on your cheek, he pulled up your trousers, and started fastening the trillion buttons, just as you did the same to him. You gently buckled his belt, and it was now your turn to start pressing kisses on his cheek, just as he finished with your belt-buckle.

His heart felt as if it was both swelling with love and being harshly squeezed with agony. 

What was this? What did this mean for you two now? He couldn’t undo the past, what he’d done, what you’d done… It was going to have repercussions, ones he didn’t even want to think about right now.

When he took a step back from your space to finish fixing his clothes, he watched you as you did the same.

“Need to get you out of here”, Chris mumbled, trying to fix the mess his hair had become from your continuous pulling and his own sweat–all that time straightening it this morning for nothing… “You’ve been here for way too long”.

“I can get out. That’s no problem”, you sounded confident in your statement, and, honestly, based on what he’d seen the Wraith do, he wouldn’t really be surprised if it truly was no problem for you to sneak in and out… Good for you, but bad for their security system, he figured…

There was a moment of deafening silence, a moment of you looking into his eyes and Chris looking into yours. Dragging his fingers through his hair, he sighed.

“We need to talk about this. But not now, not here in these… circumstances”.

“I agree”, you replied simply, picking up your glove from the floor and grimacing when you put it on your still sticky hand.

Chris reached for his own gloves he’d haphazardly dropped on the floor earlier, and tucked them in his back pocket before he opened the door and looked out the corridor to make sure no one was there.

Coast clear, so he turned back to look at you. “If… If you want, I’m free tomorrow evening. You could… drop by. After eight, preferably”.

You took a deep breath. It took you a moment to do anything, but when you did, you moved into his space, placing a hand on his chest and the other on the nape of his neck. You leaned in, and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek.

“After eight”, you confirmed, and it was honestly pathetic how fast his heart started to beat when he heard those two words.

After offering him one last, small smile, you finally removed yourself from his space. Pulling the kerchief back over the lower part of your face, you went through the door and eventually disappeared somewhere by the end of the corridor.

This was completely crazy, insane, and the fact that you were still pretty much considered an enemy in his circle should’ve filled him with anxiety. He’d just had sex with you, after knowing who you were and what you’d tried to do…

And yet, oddly enough, he could only feel relaxed. Like he had finally breached the surface after swimming underwater for too long.

Seven forty-five in the evening.

Chris had arrived home two hours ago and had done nothing but try to get his flat to look presentable.

When was the last time he slept here? Probably a few weeks ago… It was hard to be in his flat when everything reminded him of you. After all, he’d mostly stayed here when you did.

He honestly hadn’t spent as much time in this flat as he did after he started a relationship with you. He’d been living here for around three months before he went on that date with you. He used to only come here to sleep on his days off, and even those days he tried to spend them out of the flat as much as possible.

After he met you, though, every day off he had he either invited you over, or went to your place. Week by week, the place started filling up with your stuff as well as his. Things you left behind, things you brought on purpose, things he himself placed there, like that one picture you’d asked a stranger to take of you two by the lake in the park… The place was filled with your presence, and being here, on his own, only reminded him of that night in the theatre, of the fact that you weren’t here and what he’d done to you.

Thankfully, the place wasn’t too bad, it was mostly just dusty. Chris didn’t bother hiding anything of yours that was still on display. There was no point in that when his feelings were more than obvious after what happened last night.

So, fifteen minutes before the agreed time, his flat was clean, his hair was damp from the shower he’d just gotten out of, and food had been ordered. He was starving, and, since you had a tendency to not eat dinner because you got too overwhelmed sometimes, he figured ordering for you as well wouldn’t be too risky of a move. Worst case scenario, he’d just have extra left-overs tomorrow…

Seven fifty-two.

Chris looked at himself in his bathroom mirror. His hair was already starting to curl, there was a bit of a flush on his skin still from the hot shower, and he was second-guessing his outfit choice.

A cropped top he’d cut himself out of an old, oversized band t-shirt he’d thrifted, and shorts… Was it too casual? He hadn’t really thought much about what to wear, he had grabbed these on auto-pilot. Whenever you came over, it was usually just to relax and spend some time together, so it was a no-brainer for him to wear these two garments.

That was before, though… What if you came to his door looking like a goddess, all dressed up and he was like this? Would it matter? Would you mind? Three months ago, you wouldn’t have, but three months ago you were still together. Maybe things would be different now…

Seven fifty-eight.

What if you didn’t come? You did say ‘After eight’ before you left the Kim estate yesterday, but what if you changed your mind? It was a complicated situation, after all. Maybe too complicated. Why did he even invite you over? It would’ve probably been best to just meet at a café or a neutral place, why did he even suggest his home for this?

And, most importantly, what did he want from this encounter? Chris hadn’t even thought about it, and, honestly, he kind of didn’t want to think about it. He’d asked you yesterday to come here because he figured talking about whatever the fuck was going on would be the only way to get answers, to get this heavy feeling in his chest to go away, but he hadn’t thought ahead.

You were a mercenary that had tried to hurt Seungmin numerous times, he was risking everything by keeping quiet about your identity, by asking you to come here even knowing who you were. So why? Why would he do this?

The doorbell startled him.

Slightly panicked, he ruffled his hair and looked at himself in the mirror–admittedly, he’d been standing there the whole time, but he wasn’t really looking at anything…

It was too late now for an outfit change, too late to back down from this insanity he himself had started. So, he bolted to the door, and his heart almost leaped out of his chest when he looked through the peephole.

Once Chris opened the door, and came face to face with you, dressed in your comfy clothes, still pretty much looking like a goddess regardless of your outfit, he remembered the reason why he was risking it all. 

Because you made his heart rate spike. You made him feel again. After years of having seemingly nothing but a hole where his heart should’ve been, you had managed to defrost his insides with your warmth. 

“Hey…” You fiddled with the straps of the backpack you always brought along with you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other right where you stood.

“Hey”, Chris wasn’t really sure what to say, he just looked at you for a moment, and you looked right back at him.

Silence enveloped you two. You wouldn’t move, save for your fiddling, just like he wouldn’t, he remained frozen on the spot with the doorknob in his hand. Normally, he would’ve kissed you to greet you, but… should he do that? Was it appropriate? You did fuck last night, but that was a heat of the moment thing… Maybe you wouldn’t want him to kiss you at all.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, the delivery guy popped up right behind you, startling the both of you. So Chris just asked you to come in, and quickly got his card from his wallet that he had discarded by the kitchen counter earlier to pay for the food.

“Have you eaten? I ordered some for you just in case…” Chris asked as soon as the guy was gone, just as he placed the food on the counter.

“No, I haven’t”, you replied simply, finally putting your backpack down on one of the chairs. “What’d you order?”

“Cantonese…” Chris didn’t look at you as he took the containers out of the bag, nor did he acknowledge the quiet ‘Oh…’ that came out of your mouth in response. “Wanna eat on the coffee table?”

“Of course”, you said it like it was an obvious thing, and, honestly, it kind of was. Whenever you both met for dinner, especially when it involved your favourite food, you’d always eat at the coffee table, why would it be any different this time? Not like three months had passed since you last spoke or anything…

While Chris brought the containers with food to the table, you got a couple of plates, two glasses, and the necessary cutlery. By the time you were at the table yourself, he had already gone to the fridge and taken the pineapple juice you both liked.

It was all so… normal. Normal, but like things had been placed slightly to the left. The motions were the same, the same routine you had as a couple, but there was something odd lingering between you two, and Chris figured it made sense, all things considered.

When he finally sat down next to you on the floor, with his back against the sofa, you were already serving the food. Chris busied himself pouring the juice, and in no time, you both had started eating. 

It was silent for a while. Well, save for the murmurs coming from the television after you had switched it on for some background noise. Reality was seemingly looming over your heads, or, at least, that was how it felt to Chris. Yet, none of you said anything, you both just ate your food.

It almost felt like an eternity, honestly–even though it’d been probably just shy of ten minutes since you sat down to eat. But, eventually, you took a deep breath, swallowed the food in your mouth, and finally spoke, reaching for your glass of juice.

“I’m sorry this is so awkward… I just don’t know what to say”, you took a sip of your drink, finally looking at him.

Immediately, Chris’ shoulders slumped, and he placed his plate on the table before he turned his body towards you. With an arm on the sofa, he propped his head on his hand while he looked at you. “Me neither, honestly”.

You took a deep breath, chewing your food slowly, deep in thought.

“I’m… I’m gonna be fully honest. I’m tired of secrets. Sick of ‘em. And I feel like you deserve better than that”, you placed your plate on the coffee table as well, and took a napkin to wipe your hands. “I’ll just… I’ll start from the beginning, okay?” 

Chris swallowed, nodding to let you know he was listening.

“It started with my dad…” You wouldn’t look at Chris, you just placed your arms on your bent knees and fixed your gaze on the table. “He joined the Guild when he was a teenager. It was tradition in his family, you see? His mum had been a member for years, so she taught him everything she knew. Eventually, he made a name for himself, and he actually managed to get quite high in the ranks… But then he met my mum”.

You took a deep breath, leaning your head back against the sofa, staring at the ceiling. “He fell deeply in love with her. To the point where he realised he wanted to have a peaceful life, so he retired and did just that. Certified himself as a PE teacher, of all things, and then they had me”.

“Problem was… my mum isn’t exactly a good woman. She wasn’t good to him, or me. When I was still a child, she took everything my dad had and left us both, ran away with some guy she’d met… She’s still with him, last I heard. Good for her, I guess”, you chuckled, a chuckle that lacked any semblance of humour. “After she left, my dad just… he went through a deep, deep depression, lost his job, we could barely make ends meet… That was when he decided to return to the Guild, and, of course, like his mum had done to him, he brought me along…”.

You spoke a lot from then on. How you were taught to fight, how your father passed on to you his stealth technique, which was your signature trait to this day, how many people you’d had to kill, kidnap, or extort. You kept a tally, apparently, which in Chris’ experience wasn’t an uncommon thing to do. He himself kept records of his own milestones, as gruesome as that might sound to some people. It always helped put things into perspective, in a way.

“Seungmin… He was just another target. I wasn’t even going to kill him. I try not to kill when I can. It’s too messy… But, I must admit, at some point I was trying to kill Chan”, you finally turned to look at him, and the pained look in your eyes must’ve been a perfect match to his own. “In all honesty, I’m glad I failed. You’re really good at what you do, you know? If you hadn’t been, I would’ve succeeded, and being honest, I don’t think I would’ve been able to continue going on with my life if I had killed the man I love”.

The man I love…

There you were again, using present tense. Was it stupid of him to feel hopeful about that?

Maybe it was.

Before Chris could say anything, though, you looked away again, straightening your head to reach for your plate of food. “What I told you last night… Dropping the job, in the eyes of the Guild, is a sign of weakness. We are supposed to carry out our tasks or die trying. The fact that it took me so long to do what I was hired to do, and the fact that I essentially gave up, it’s all enough for them to consider me a burden, so I’ll have to either prove my worth again, or they’ll just get rid of me”.

You said it so nonchalantly, like you had accepted this as your fate. And Chris honestly hated it.

“How long do you have to prove it?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I could either be given a super hard task soon, or they could’ve already decided I’m no longer worth their time and just try to kill me. I need to be wary now. You’ve got no idea all the trouble I had to go through just to make sure no one was following me when I was coming here”.

As the guard of Kim Seungmin, as Chan, there was a small spark of pride at the fact that he had managed to stop anyone from doing harm to Seungmin. But, as your boyfriend–ex-boyfriend…?–as Chris, there was also guilt pooling in his gut at the fact that you were now being targeted by your own people because of him.

How fucking convoluted this all was…

You remained silent after that, just slowly putting food into your mouth, chewing leisurely. Chris knew you were waiting for him to speak. You had bared your past to him, and it was now his turn to do the same. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to speak, he wanted to do it, he’d wanted to do it for months, way before the theatre situation, way before the Wraith came into his life, back when it was just you and him. But, even though the fact that he’d tried to kill you didn’t seem to have fully pushed you away from him, he was sure that what he was going to reveal to you now could potentially do so. As odd as that might sound…

Chris figured it was now or never. Everything was already complicated, the future of you two was already murky enough, so he took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly only to finally open them again when he started to speak.

“You remember I told you… about my brother and sister, right?” 

You nodded, focusing your entire attention on him.

Chris hadn’t disclosed much of his family or career to you, but he had told you about his siblings. Not in detail, but you were important enough to him that he wanted you to know, especially when sometimes he’d get texts or calls from either of them and he didn’t want you to get the wrong impression when you saw their contact names with hearts and random emojis next to them.

“We didn’t really… have much. Our father abandoned us right after my brother was born. He left my mum on her own to raise three children, one that wasn’t even a month old, while she was still recovering from her difficult pregnancy…” The memory always made him angry, his father embodied everything he ever hated in this world, and whenever Chris thought of him, he had to make the conscious effort to not give into this need of looking for him and give him the beating of his life, preferably kill him if he could… 

Chris shook his head, trying to once again ignore the thought altogether. “Anyway, mum worked really hard to keep us three fed and to give us proper education. She really did her best, and even if we didn’t have much we were at least somewhat pushing through. But…”

It was always hard to talk about these things. Chris hardly ever allowed himself to think of this period of his life. He much preferred to remember his mother as the loving, hardworking woman he knew her to be, but he wanted to tell you this, he needed you to know the whole context, so he kept talking.

“She was sick. We didn’t really know, one day she was seemingly fine and the next she was in a hospital bed, telling me it would all be fine…” It wasn’t fine, clearly. His mother had always been overly optimistic, and even back then he knew this was just her holding onto the foolish hope that she’d make it.

She didn’t.

The very next day, she had passed away, and Chris and his siblings had been entrusted to their uncle.

“It was all so sudden… Very quickly, we realised our uncle just wasn’t a good man. I put myself as the shield between him and my siblings, but even that wasn’t enough. I had to find a way for us to leave, I couldn’t just let my brother and sister live with this guy, it wasn’t safe”, Chris tapped his fingers on his thigh, looking at the only picture of him and his younger siblings he had placed on one of the shelves close to the television.

After a few moments of silence to gather his thoughts, he took a deep breath and started talking again. “I was sixteen, what can a sixteen year old boy do? It was so frustrating, and I was incredibly desperate, so I…” Fuck, this was much harder than he expected it to be, but he swallowed regardless, pushing away the little voice in the back of his mind that urged him to shut up. “Back then, all I had was my charm and my body, you know? So I used just that”.

There were a lot of cruel, disgusting people in this world. People that didn’t even stop to ask how old he was, people who could clearly tell how old he was but weren’t put off by it–on the contrary, those were usually turned on by that fact.

For many years, Chris sold himself to other people. He became whoever they wanted him to become for a few hours, and eventually got himself enough regulars to financially support his siblings and himself. He managed to keep the three of them well fed and studying. 

Only problem was, the psychological toll such a profession took on him was almost immeasurable. It was hard to remain empathetic towards other people when he’d had to constantly experience physical and emotional abuse, when he had to do things he just didn’t want to do every single night. But he had to. For the sake of his siblings and himself, he just had to.

You didn’t seem at all surprised by what Chris was telling you, but he could see the look of disgust on your face. Knowing you, his logical mind told him it had all to do with his clients, with the situation, not with himself. But, there was a small part of him–a very self-destructive part of him–that was sure you’d be disgusted at him. After all, you’d been physically involved with someone who was nothing but a whore for a good chunk of his life, with no knowledge of the fact.

Chris swallowed. His mouth was suddenly dry after telling you all this, so he reached for his glass of juice and drank some to quench that nervous thirst. All while you looked at him, clearly deep in your thoughts.

“Mmm… So that’s why you’d been so insistent on me getting that STD test when we were talking about dropping condoms… Why you were so sure you were clean yourself”, you said simply, just as he was placing his glass back on the table. “Not gonna lie, I found it odd back then, considering most guys don’t really think about that stuff, they just want to get it wet”.

“Yep. I always made sure to be careful and keep that in check. I couldn’t afford to catch something dangerous. Who would take care of my brother and sister then?”

You hummed in understanding, but you didn’t really say anything else, and suddenly looking at your face was too much…

“Honestly, I almost never had unprotected sex with any of my clients, but whenever I did, I was super insistent on this, and old habits die hard, I suppose…” Chris picked at some loose threads of the rug under the coffee table, and he swallowed, avoiding your eyes before he braced himself for what he was about to say. “I’m… By the time I met you, I was no longer an escort, obviously. But you… That night with you after our first date was the first time I was able to actually enjoy sex in a long, long time. It was all just so… intimate. The fact that sex could feel like that… I don’t know, it absolutely blew my mind”.

Chris went silent after that. His fidgeting increased considerably, and very quickly, he realised he was nervous. Even before the whole theatre situation, he’d always been more scared to tell you about this part of his past than his current job. He’d always considered telling you about the Kims, about what he did, but whenever he thought about telling you what he used to do for a living, his mind would always convince him you’d just see him differently, and losing you was something he just couldn’t afford.

Maybe it was silly of him, considering killing people for a living was probably way more morally incorrect than having sex for money, but unlike the former, the latter was something he never truly found pride in. On the contrary, he was ashamed of it.

All of a sudden, Chris felt your hand on his knee, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the movement of your thumb against his skin. It wasn’t until you muttered a soft ‘Hey…’ that he finally pulled his eyes away to look at you instead.

“I hope you know I don’t… I don’t think any differently of you because of your past. You did what you had to do to survive, and that’s completely respectable”, you squeezed his knee a bit, almost reassuringly, and for a moment, Chris feared he was going to cry. “Even knowing what you do now… I get it. I truly do. I’m totally no one to judge, all things considered”.

Once again, you’d shown him why he had fallen in love with you in the first place. And, once again, he couldn’t help but feel that the world was just so unfair.

Out of all people in this whole wide world, why did it have to be you under the kerchief that night…

Chris took a deep breath, looking away from your face to your hand on his knee. Warm, familiar… Your touch seemed to shoot straight to his heart. Without thinking much about it, he placed his hand on top of yours, and held it firmly, as if you would disappear if he let go.

He wanted to tell you more. He didn’t just want to leave it at that, he wanted you to know everything, he needed you to know. So, after a few moments of silence, he started talking again.

“How I transitioned from what I did to working with the Kims was a very circumstantial thing… Turns out one of my clients had business with them. Problem was, he was trying to scam them, which, in retrospect, was very stupid on his part”, he had found himself tangled in this guy’s mess, he was setting Chris up to take the blame, and as soon as he realised that, he immediately ratted the guy out to the Kims.

In doing so, they had offered him not only protection, but also a different career path. 

“They found me a mentor, trained me, all while I was still pretending to be this guy’s fucktoy. And, eventually, when the Kims got what they wanted from him, I got to kill him”, even as he said it, Chris knew a normal person would’ve felt some remorse when telling this story. But he didn’t.

Very quickly after that, he realised that killing, torturing people, deceiving them, were much more dignified ways of using his body and his skills, which was exactly what he told you.

“To me, it feels like the Kims gave me my individuality back. I do what I do because I like it, because I am grateful for what the Kims did for me, and because I feel proud of it, as twisted as that might sound…” Somehow, Chris knew you would understand the feeling, considering what you did for a living yourself. “I’m able to provide for my brother and sister by doing something I can find pride in. I love my team, they’re like family to me as well, but I suppose all these things I learnt throughout the years ended up making me a bit… cold”.

“Oh, I know all about that…” You mumbled, with a small smile on your lips.

Chris chuckled at that, maybe a bit incredulously.

He looked at your face in silence for a moment. There was no judgement in your eyes, and the soft caresses of your thumb on his hand had his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Seriously, though…” Chris said after a while. “When you appeared in my life, I was reminded of how it was like to feel normal. I feel like I’m a bit more human”.

“It’s a very mutual feeling, you know?”

Chris remained silent, looking at you, until your words registered fully, and he offered you a nod. Somehow, what you said had heat pooling on his cheeks, and he looked away from your face to stare at your joined hands.

“I was even… Before it all went down, I was genuinely considering retirement”, taking a deep breath, you brought your free hand to hold his hand between your palms. “I should’ve told you what I did for a living. Maybe this whole thing could’ve been avoided if I had, but I was afraid you’d just… leave”.

“I wouldn’t have”, Chris replied before he could think twice about it, but with the words out there, he realised he meant them. How could he leave? You were just like him, after all.

“I know that now”, your hands were so warm, so familiar… 

“Come here…” Wrapping an arm around your waist, and taking a hold of your thigh, Chris guided your body to move, until you settled on his lap. 

Your hands immediately found his face, just as his arms wrapped around your waist. You looked him in the eyes, in a way that made him feel exposed, like you were reaching deep within his mind and soul. He realised then that he wanted to be exposed. He didn’t want any more secrets or half-truths, you were already his weak spot, so might as well let you fully in. 

“You’re so handsome”, you said all of a sudden, with a bright smile on your lips, and Chris immediately chuckled, looking away and shaking his head. “Don’t laugh! You are”. 

“You want me to blush? ‘Cause it’s working, baby”, Chris tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. With the same motion, he found your earlobe, and he caressed the skin while his other arm was firmly around your waist. 

“Maybe I do want that. It’s my only ulterior motive”, you chuckled, tracing patterns on his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Mmm… Is that so?” Chris supposed this was your way of confirming to him that you, in fact, didn’t have any ulterior motive. He also supposed he could do nothing else but believe you, to trust you.

“Mm”, you leaned in, leaving a tender kiss on his forehead before you pulled back to look him in the eyes again. “It is”.

The warmth of your palms, the soft drag of your thumbs on Chris’ skin, your weight on his lap… All combined had Chris closing his eyes, it had him leaning into your touch, and even questioning if this was a real thing that was happening, if you were truly there. You were. Logically, he knew you were, but it was hard for his brain to catch up with the fact after spending so long doing nothing but yearning for you.

There was a sigh, a sound of relief that further anchored Chris to reality when it came out of your mouth. 

“You, too, make me feel alive. These past couple of months… I’ve just missed you so, so much, Christopher”, your voice was so quiet, it was steady, but Chris could’ve sworn he felt your hold tremble on his face. He didn’t dare open his eyes, just took a deep breath and brought one of his hands to lay on top of one of yours on his face. “I know it’s… weird. All of this. It’s weird and complicated and there’s a lot we’d have to work on, but I… I don’t want to lose you. I can’t”.

Chris could feel your words reach deep within him. They might’ve sparked some doubts, maybe even a bit of anxiety at the prospect of facing the results of both of your actions, but… they also warmed him up from the inside out. 

He figured that, if there had ever been anything worth protecting, what you both had was one of those things, no matter how difficult it could be. And right then, when he finally opened his eyes and looked at your face, he wholeheartedly believed it was possible.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Chris nodded. With a hand on the back of your head, he pulled you closer to him, close so he could press his lips to yours, and the soft whimper that escaped your mouth was enough to make him want to cry right then and there.

Your hands left his face so you could wrap your arms around his neck. With his arms around your waist, he pulled you further into his lap, chest against chest sharing one breath. Your words kept resonating in his ears ‘missed you so, so much…’ Added to the feel of your tongue against his own, to your hand playing with his hair, he was sure his heart was about to burst.

You kissed for a while. Slowly savouring the feel of one another, almost like you both wanted to catch up on all those kisses missed in the past three months. Quiet moans slipped between your lips, his hands roamed your back, confirming that this was, in fact, very real. Even more so when your hips started to roll, grinding against him when his hands settled to squeeze your backside and your thighs.

“Missed you, too”, Chris breathlessly mumbled against your lips, taking a tight hold of your hips to guide your movement. You just nodded and kept kissing him, more frantically this time, and all he could do was match your pace, in hopes to convey just how much he had truly missed you.

His mind fogged up. There was nothing but you, and you, and you… He didn’t want for there to be anything else. Before he knew it, articles of clothing started to be removed and dropped on the sofa behind him, until skin was touching skin and even the minimal distance between your bodies felt like it was just too much. 

Chris needed you closer, as close as you possibly could be, and in his haze, he’d found himself kissing down your body while you laid on his rug. Slowly, he left kisses on your cheek, your neck, between your breasts–where he took a brief pause just so he could be smothered by them for a bit before he continued his path…

With your legs over his shoulders, with his mouth at the apex of your thighs, Chris couldn’t help but groan at the familiar, undeniable taste of you. Oh, how he’d missed this, too… Your hand gripping his hair, and his own roaming the softest areas of your body while he got to drink you up, was absolutely how he’d been dreaming to be, especially when you started making the prettiest noises, those that made his chest swell with pride and satisfaction.

He supposed it was more than fair. You’d gotten your taste of him last night, and it was now his turn.

Your words of encouragement, your sighs of his name, and the quiet sounds coming out of your mouth made his head spin. How had he even survived all these weeks without this? Without you? 

As he fixated on gently sucking on that sensitive nub between your legs, as your thighs started to shake a bit around his head, Chris just felt lucky. As unfortunate as this whole thing had been, he had to cherish this second chance. There was a lot to talk about, a lot more truths to tell to each other, but all that could wait. Until later or tomorrow or the day after… It could all wait.

Right now, all that mattered was to feel. 

For him to feel you, for you to feel him, and for both to just satiate the burning need for each other.

Getting you to come with just his mouth and his fingers was certainly one of his favourite things in this world. Hearing you gasp and moan his name made him lightheaded, filled him to the brim with arousal and love… Especially so when your legs trapped him right there, when he got to pin you down by the hips so you couldn’t pull away from him while he continued to drink up your essence.

Your body slumped a bit when Chris finally found his way up your body. As soon as he was within reach, you simply pulled him down to you with a firm grip on his hair, sealing your mouths in a slow kiss, uncaring of your taste on his tongue, his lips, or even his chin when you started to leave kisses all over his face.

Chris gave you time to catch your breath. However, when he told you he was doing just that, in that teasing tone that he knew would just rile you up, you just chuckled and told him it was difficult to do so when his lips so deliciously gave attention to your neck.

“What? Want me to stop?” He couldn’t help but chuckle as well, leaving lingering kisses on your skin.

“As if”, was all you mumbled back when you hugged him close and buried your hand in his hair to keep him right there.

After a couple of minutes where Chris just got to place his lips on every centimetre of skin they could find, you pulled him by his hair in that enticing way you always did, and brought him close to you once again, muttering his absolute favourite combination of words you could ever say.

“Fuck me”.

Gladly. 

Chris was hard, leaking pre-cum, needy in ways that only you had ever made him feel. There was not an ounce of restraint in his body tonight, no wish to tease or delay the inevitable. There’d be time for that in the future. Or so he hoped.

So when he finally pushed himself into your sopping warmth, when he started that slow, but precise pace of his hips that he knew you enjoyed so much, he was dead set on diving fully into it, into you. Just like he’d done countless times prior to that night in the theatre.

“I love you”, Chris mumbled in your ear, and even before he said it, he had already started to feel his eyes water.

“I love you”, you mumbled back, further digging your nails on his back, tightening the hold of your legs around his torso. “With my whole heart”.

Your words coming out as a shaky whisper were enough to shatter the remaining protective layer around his heart. He could feel himself tremble, and even though he saw the tears running down your cheeks when he kissed you again, he hadn’t really needed to do it to know they were there. Just like he was sure you hadn’t needed to see his to know, too.

Chris had almost forgotten how it was like to sleep with you–in the literal sense of the word.

Your warmth, the way you clung to him sometimes in the middle of the night, how you’d wake him up when he was about to choke on his spit… It was all so, so familiar, it was comforting, and last night, even if you both had gone to sleep late after a couple more mind-numbing orgasms, after finishing your food, and after even more cuddles and deep emotional talks, this had probably been the best he’d slept in weeks.

Which was why, when he turned to drape an arm around your waist because he just needed to pull you closer to him, he almost got whiplash from the feeling of the cold sheets under his hand.

Chris’ eyes snapped open to find your side of the bed empty. Why was it so cold? Had you just left? When did you leave? Had you woken up today filled with regret? Had you decided that trying to work things out was actually too complicated and not worth your time?

Chris’ heart was beating fast in his chest, and just before he flung himself from the bed in a panic to see if the things you brought last night were still in the flat, he heard a sound. It was quiet, but he definitely heard it, and that feeling of panic was quickly changing to one of dangerous hope.

He didn’t even bother putting clothes on, just stood up and walked all the way to his bedroom’s door. As soon as it was opened, he could hear things more clearly. 

Music.

Very low, but it was certainly playing somewhere down the hall.

He could hear the sound of a spatula against metal, as well as the crackling of oil, and the unmistakable hum of the airfryer.

“Morning, sleepy bear”, you said as he stepped into the kitchen, not even turning to look at him. Chris had light steps, but he supposed it made sense that you of all people were more than capable of hearing him walking closer. “M’making some eggs and bacon”.

Chris couldn’t help the small smile that came to his lips. He walked into your space, and wrapped his arms around your waist to hug you from behind. “So, the only things that were in the fridge”.

“Basically. You should really go grocery shopping. How are you gonna have energy for work if you don’t eat proper meals, hm? Who’s gonna protect Seungmin then?” There was a hint of a smile in your voice, and it only made Chris’ own smile widen.

It was odd to hear you talk about his job, especially so… neutrally. Resting his chin on your shoulder, Chris watched you carefully and methodically cook the eggs, and he couldn’t help but tighten his hold around your waist.

There was a moment of silence as you placed the two perfectly fried eggs on a plate, next to the already cooked ones. The airfryer timer went off, you switched off the stove, but you remained standing there in Chris’ hug.

One of your hands came to his arms, and you started to softly caress his skin. “Baby… I don’t wanna get you into trouble, you know?”

Chris knew. Being with you would definitely get him into trouble if the Kims found out who you were. He was aware of this, there was no way he wouldn’t be. “I know, love”.

“I’m gonna be honest, I don’t… don’t really know what to do. How to fix that. I can’t let them hurt you because of me”.

Taking a deep breath, Chris let go of your waist to take a hold of your shoulders instead. With a gentle grip, he coaxed you to turn around so he could cup your cheeks in his hands. “We’ll figure something out. About the Kims, about the Guild… We’ll just… figure it out”.

You swallowed, but a small smile found its way to your lips. “Why do I get the feeling that this is gonna be some ‘you and me against the world’ bullshit?”

“Because it is”, Chris chuckled, squishing your cheeks, making your lips jut out into a pout. “It’s you and me, bun. We might need to improvise a bit, walk around the truth, but I have hope that we can find a solution to this”.

He pecked your lips briefly, and his hold on your cheeks relented.

You immediately looped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you just as his hands found the small of your back. “I suppose we can put our two scheming brain cells together to think of something. I must say… doesn’t seem that difficult of a task when you’re here with me”.

Chris agreed completely. As long as he had you there, with him, it didn’t seem a difficult thing to achieve. Either getting the Guild to trust you again, or for you to defect, or even getting him to come clean to at least Seungmin, or keep you a secret, or for both of you to disappear completely, maybe leave the country and get new identities… It didn’t matter what course of action you both decided to take. 

As long as you got to be together, happy, and in love, it just didn’t matter.

Even when he leaned in to press a kiss on your lips, when he hugged you close, Chris held onto that possibly foolish hope that everything would be okay. That you both would, in fact, figure it all out.

tagging (people from my taglist + people that asked to be tagged in this part 2 specifically):

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© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

General Masterlist

[incorrectbatfam]

Do you have any angsty headcannons of Damian Wayne

Sometimes I wonder if he has any insecurities about being the youngest and the fact that he's fifth (sixth? seventh?) in a long line of batkids who have already done pretty much anything he can think of. Blowing up the League of Assassins? Tim did that. Starting a superhero team? Sure, Damian's done that, but it's kinda derivative of his siblings'. Dying? That's literally Jason's whole schtick. With older siblings, he's gonna invariably end up with some hand-me-downs and it's a lot harder to carve his own unique identity.

He's over the whole "blood son" thing, but he can't help but feel a little jealous when Bruce talks so fondly about the others' Robin days, meanwhile Damian is still referred to as "having potential" and needing to work on this or that. It's like when your siblings have a bunch of trophies and you know you're just as capable, but you haven't been given the chance.

As Robin, everything he did was measured up against his siblings. Dick stuck the landing better. Tim was more careful with evidence. Steph decoded the riddle faster. Jason could take on twice as many goons. Though Damian tries to do things his own way, Robin never feels like something that's fully his.

Even though the Waynes can buy ten of everything, he still ends up with some of his siblings' stuff—Dick's sweatshirt, Jason's books, Tim's old camera. Damian can try and pretend they belong to him, but then he comes across a scribble in the margins or an old picture of Young Justice and it's a reminder that he's still tethered to the people who came before him.

And maybe that's why he still picks fights and gives people a hard time. At his age, he'll do anything it takes to stand out so someone notices him, and being difficult accomplishes that. As an immediate result, he gains individuality by being known as the Demon Brat. And because he gets that instant gratification, he keeps doing it over and over.

It's no secret that he and Tim aren't always on good terms. I think part of it has to do with Tim being the next closest predecessor and Damian has an easier time picking him apart compared to facing off against Dick or Jason. Because of that, though, I think Tim would be the first to pick up on why Damian is this way.

Do they communicate about it? Mmm not yet. This is the most emotionally stunted family we're talking about, so instead of indulging Damian's behavior, Tim flat-out ignores it and it's one of those instances where ignoring works because Damian stops, at least with him.

But then he moves on to Steph, but her tolerance is way lower than Tim's and she lets Damian know that. She straight-up tells him, "Hey, quit being obnoxious. It works now because people are going easy on you, but one day someone's gonna screw you up and you won't have a Batman to run to."

He doesn't really believe her because 1) he was never one to care what strangers think about him and 2) getting the job done was more important than being liked to him.

Cut to school being back in session. Damian mainly keeps to himself—partly to lay low, partly because he never got along with other kids before and didn't see the point in trying again. His grades are stellar and for the first month or so, teachers praise him all around for being a model student.

But that eventually slows down as his straight-A's and thesis-sounding papers become routine—it's his norm, and teachers stop pointing it out as something remarkable.

And just like before: when being Robin stops working, be the Demon Brat.

He keeps his grades up, but the teachers start sending emails home about things like chewing gum and using his phone in class. Every time, Bruce just reminds him to behave.

One time Bruce offhandedly mentions how Jason was a well-behaved student and Damian can't help but think, "That's the point. I'm not Jason."

The emails pile up, now with new problems like extended bathroom breaks, breaking the dress code, and even one incident where he forged himself a note to get out of class early.

But the thing that lands him in detention is a snide comment to the wrong kid that spirals into a schoolyard brawl. And even though Damian pulls his punches, it still ends in bruises and a bloody nose, and it takes two teachers and the football coach to break it up.

And just his luck, Dick's in Bludhaven, Alfred has a doctor's appointment, Tim and Bruce are at a business meeting, and Jason wants to stay out of this, so guess who's there to pick him up at the end of the afternoon.

Steph doesn't beat around the bush. Her first response is, "What did I tell you?" And it pisses him off because she's right.

That evening, they go on a long drive where she eventually gets an explanation out of him. And she gets him, 100%. She tells him how she had big shoes to fill as Batgirl and how she always compared herself to Cass and Babs.

Then she says: "Robin isn't a personality you grow into or break out of. It's just a costume. Who you are underneath is who Robin becomes."

For good measure though, she goes to Bruce later like, "Hey, do you need a laxative? 'Cause you're so emotionally constipated that you forgot your son is his own person, not a work in progress or extension of someone else." Then she swipes his credit card and takes Damian to the arcade to make him feel better since he still has a week's worth of detention plus Alfred giving him double the chores.

After that, people will still occasionally slip up, but when Dick ruffles his hair and says they'll ace a mission "the Damian way," it's reason enough to believe that things are looking up.

[sanguineterrain]

prompt: the first time you use a pet name on steve :) (he actually really likes it. it makes him feel all special and loved and admired) - lavvvvv 💌

everybody say hello to my beloved. say "hello lav!" good, good.

steve x gn!reader. smidge of angst (bc it's me) but major fluff!

****

"Baby, can you try this?"

You've hardly hung your coat before Steve's in front of you with a wooden spoon full of sauce. He puts it to your lips.

"Taste, honey," he encourages. "Wanna make sure I'm not gonna kill the kids."

"I don't think you're gonna kill them with spaghetti, Steve."

Nevertheless, you bump your lips to the spoon and lick the sauce off your mouth. You smile, nodding.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah," you confirm. "First a babysitter, now a chef. Aren't I lucky."

Steve throws a grin like spun gold over his shoulder.

"Flatterer," he says, but his ears are red. "How was work?"

"Good. Not too busy."

"Everybody was nice?" he checks.

You laugh. "Yes, Steve. Everybody was nice. You don't have to crack any skulls this time."

"I have no problem doing so," he says in a tone you can't tell is joking or not. "Nobody should be giving my sweetheart a hard time."

Sweetheart. The first thing you learned while dating Steve Harrington is that he loves giving pet names. Nothing compares to the way he softens and bestows the most affectionate monikers known to man.

And what do you call him in return? Steve. Just Steve.

It's pathetic is what it is. Steve's effortless in his endearments and you refer to him like a co-worker.

"Honey?"

Steve waves a hand in front of you.

"Hmm? Sorry. What were you saying?"

His gentle smile returns.

"I was asking if you could set the table? Think this is almost done."

"Oh! Sure, yeah."

You grab the foliage-themed placemats (Steve's purchase, not yours) and head to the dining table. You don't know exactly what the reason for tonight's dinner is, but Steve loves company and cooking, and it's entirely possible he's doing this just because.

"Robin'll be here soon. Eddie's stopping by too, can you believe? I think he's bringing Dustin, who'll probably wolf down everything in three seconds and ditch us for the arcade. Kid's gotta learn some manners."

"And you wonder why you're the designated mom of the group," you giggle.

Steve rolls his eyes, but you know he's not upset. He likes being someone the kids can rely on. Somebody special.

The reminder of how Steve is nicknameless in your presence returns. He's lovely flittering about in the kitchen, at home for once in his house. You have the urge to push his hair behind his ear so you can see more of his jawline. Steve's a mix of strong and delicate features. Royally handsome. You've always thought so.

"Look at these," Steve says, holding up a pair of tomatoes. "Thought I wouldn't find any this late in the year but the good stuff was downtown. Kinda expensive, though. But they taste amazing, so I think it's worth it, y'know?"

You lean in, overwhelmed by your affection.

"Well, all the credit shouldn't go to them." Here you go. "You make anything taste good, my prince."

You wait for Steve to glow, maybe turn a little shy. It doesn't come. Instead, he stiffens. Your smile slips.

"Steve?" you try.

He turns off the stove. You shift antsily.

"Steve, did you hear? I said—"

"Your prince," he finishes. "Yeah, I heard you. I get it. I'm so removed from reality that I'll go downtown for good tomatoes. 'Cause I'm the trust fund kid. I got it."

"What? N-no, no, no! Oh my God, Steve."

You get up. Steve's already curling in on himself, trying to self-soothe and bury his hurt. You tug him away from the stove and cup his face with your hands.

"That's not what I meant, Steve. I would never make that joke. I'm sorry, I just wanted to call you a name!"

That makes him tilt his head, hurt slipping into confusion.

"Call me a name?"

"Yeah, like... like baby or sweetheart. All the nice names you give me. Except I wanted to give you a special name 'cause you always give me special names. And I chose prince because you're so handsome."

Steve's eyes widen. "Oh."

You nod rapidly.

"Yeah, handsome like a prince! I wish I could paint you. I'd paint you like those Renaissance masters. They'd love to have painted you, y'know? 'Cause you've got the nice jaw."

You trace his chin with one finger. Steve's gaze is indecipherable, so you keep talking.

"And you've also got those big, pretty eyes. You're this perfect mix of soft and strong, you know? You've got features that are really beautiful to look at, like your lips and nose. So I settled on prince, and you're my prince, and—"

"Y/N."

You cringe.

"Yeah?"

Steve tilts your face to his and kisses you sweetly. You relax into his embrace, humming. He pulls back first, brushing your cheek with a knuckle.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," he says. "That's—Jesus, that's probably the best compliment I've ever received. Renaissance masters? How do you come up with this stuff? Totally blows my names out of the water."

You shake your head.

"No, it doesn't. I feel so warm when you call me those. And I just wanted to reciprocate."

"Baby, you do. Just by being you. You don't have to call me anything but Steve."

"I want to. I'll come up with a different one," you vow.

"No, no," he grins, nuzzling your cheek. "Keep it. I like being your prince."

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

I've Got A Crush On You

Part Two: Not Tonight

A WMCJ!Jeremy x Reader Fic

Soundtrack: Not Tonight- Lil' Kim (many features)

Jeremy gets to take Ms. Flexible out for a date, but he quickly realizes that he's in way over his head after his last relationship. Kamal is doing is best to keep his present and past separate, but when one of his players gets into some trouble, he finds that you really can't leave behind the place that made you.

Warnings: language, Jeremy being Jeremy, mentions of violence, kissing

A/N: not beta'd for time, I'll go back later and make edits if necessary

"PASS THE BALL!", Jeremy yelled above the sound of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, his voice echoing off the gym walls. "Isaiah pass the b-", he groaned as Isaiah tried to shoot the ball, his off balance attempt ricocheting off the rim and careening across the bleachers.

The West LA Dragons youth basketball team had two weeks of practice under their belt, and they had nothing to show for it. There were only two players on the team who could even dribble or shoot the ball, and the others were like newborn giraffes on the court, stumbling over their feet, every shot coming up at least three feet short, and to the right. "I swear to-", Jeremy cried out, running his hands through his tight curls.

"No swearing!" Chris called out from the bleachers, his head down, looking at the stat sheet.. "Go get your friend, man." He gestured at Kamal to get Jeremy all the way together.

"Alright, water break", Kamal called out to the team with a clap of his hands, each player immediately collapsed on the ground, their chests heaving to try to catch a breath, no energy to even run and get some water. "Dude, what's the problem? They're kids, you've got 'em running drills like soldiers", Kamal said at a whisper.

"Have you seen this team? You know I don't believe in corporal punishment", Jeremy placed a peaceful hand on his chest to signify his love of pacification, making Kamal roll his eyes dramatically, "but some of these kids need the belt".

Kamal narrowed his eyes at Jeremy, "Nah, you're more annoying than usual. What's really going on?"

Jeremy let out a humorless chuckle, squeezing at his hips with his hands as he shuffled his weight nervously back and forth. "I'm nervous about tonight."

"What's tonight?", Kamal asked, his brow knitted together with confusion. "Dude, stop playing with me." Jeremy scoffed. He could barely focus on anything today but you, and his nerves were getting the best of him.

"I'm not fuckin' with you man. I have no idea what you're talking about." Kamal stifled a laugh, he loved to see Jeremy squirm under pressure. "Man, my date tonight!" He spoke louder than he intended, his voice carrying across the room.

"Woah! Mr. Tumnus has a date tonight!", Isaiah teased, the team breaking out in laughter at his joke. Jeremy quickly paced over to him in anger. "How do you even know that reference?! You weren't even born when that movie came out." He flexed his jaw at his pint size enemy.

"It was a book first, you moron, we read it in school", Isaiah shrugged, letting the ball roll off his fingertips. "The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe?" Jeremy glanced back at Kamal with wide eyes to confirm, his friend giving him a nod. "Ok, well...shut up and shoot the ball." He didn't have a comeback, and he was honestly starting to wonder how this kid knew so many pop culture references that he didn't.

"Good comeback, Will Ferrell", Isaiah let out a humorless breath, looking around for confirmation that his joke landed. "Okay, you know what? That one was a reach!" Jeremy snatched the ball from him, holding it behind his back as the kid tried to get it back from him. He leaned forward, getting on Isaiah's level, his tone even. "I don't know if all the Fortnite you play is rotting your brain or something, but if you don't get in line and start showing me a little respect, you're gonna get laughed off the court at tomorrow's game."

Isaiah gave him an cocky grin. "I'm surprised you know what Fortnite is, I didn't know they had it when Jesus was around, ya old man."

"J, don't." Kamal warned, having heard their entire conversation. He could tell that Jeremy was starting to get pissed off, and if provoked, namaste could quickly turn into something nama-nasty. "Its' fine, its' fine." Jeremy waived him off; he wasn't about to let anyone ruin his day today. "Fine, you don't wanna be a team player, everyone's getting punished." The smile dropped from Isaiah's face as Jeremy stood up, blowing his whistle that hung around his neck. "Laps, everyone!" There was a collective groan heard in the room as everyone slowly stood up.

"That's not fair!", Isaiah called out. "Yeah, yeah, they call you "Swiffer, lets see you swiffer this court as you run around it." Jeremy blew his whistle again.

"Its Swisher", Isaiah mumbled under his breath as he started running, catching up with the group.

"Dude, I could have sworn I told you about my date tonight", Jeremy turned back to Kamal, palming the basketball as the two of them made their way to the bleachers. "You did", Kamal chuckled, taking a sip from his water bottle, "I just love fuckin' with you."

"I can't believe you actually did it", Kamal chuckled as he sat down on the couch opposite Jeremy. He begrudgingly agreed to come over to Jeremy's place after practice and help him pick out an outfit for his date tonight, only because he could tell Jeremy was more nervous than usual. He pushed aside the money tree and bottles of unidentifiable "health" liquids that occupied Jeremy's coffee table. His apartment always smelled like dirt and patchouli oil, and even though he'd been over many times, he never got used to the scent.

"Why do you have zero faith in me? After all that we've been through." Jeremy sucked his teeth at his best friend as he leaned back, pulling out his phone. He'd been scrolling through your Instagram all morning, trying to get a feel for the kind of person you were. He didn't want to take you to Malibu if you were more of a Beverly Hills kind of girl, and he felt the pressure to make a good impression on you because the crush he had only grew with each passing day.

"Because I know you", Kamal interjected, "and I know that your breakup with Tati broke you. To be honest, I didn't think you were ever gonna get back out there." He pointed at the bottle that looked the least disgusting. "Can I try this?" Jeremy nodded, ruffling his curls with his fingers.

Talking about his last girlfriend, their relationship ending after five good years together, was still a sensitive subject for him. The way things ended left a lot to be desired, and he was really nervous about starting to date again. Still, he couldn't let on how hurt he still was, especially to Kamal, because he would never let him live it down.

"Listen, I broke up with her. We were just moving in to different directions. I was focused on my business and she..."

"Was focused on some other guys dick?" Kamal grimaced as the green juice hit his taste buds. He put the bottle down, spitting what was left in his mouth in a napkin. "What the fuck is in here? It tastes like ass."

Jeremy perked up, taking the bottle from the table. "Wheatgrass. I've been working on a new formula. Its supposed to be really good for your digestive system."

"You know its not supposed to taste the way it would come out, going in right?" Jeremy ignored his dig, his gaze focused on your latest story post. You were posing with your sister and nephew in the booth of a restaurant, red pleather seats behind you and a very distinctive donkey with a sombrero on in the very back corner. Jeremy couldn't shake the feeling that he recognized the place, but couldn't quite put his finger on exactly where.

Just as he pressed the red heart emoji on the screen, a notification fell down from the top of the screen.

You: How does Las Anitas on Olvera Street sound tonight? Its my favorite restaurant

Jeremy couldn't help the smile that formed on your face at the cute emojis you overused in your text. He replied that he'd swing by your place to pick you up at 8pm before looking back up at Kamal.

"What?" Jeremy tipped his head at Kamal who was grinning ear to ear. "Nothing", he shook his head, taking another sip of the drink, and suppressing a gag at the taste once again, "its just nice to see you smiling. Good change of pace."

Jeremy could feel his face heat up with embarrassment, but he couldn't deny that Kamal was right. "See this is what I'm talking about. If we could just be open and vulnerable with each other, we could be even better f-". Kamal gave Jeremy a look of disgust as he pushed himself to his feet. "Fuck no, man, I told you about that "therapy" shit, I'm not tryna hear that."

"I feel like you're not giving it a chance!" Jeremy called out to him, his focus still on his phone, mindlessly scrolling through your feed.

"So, you're going out with a hippie?", your older sister, Nikki asked as she plopped herself down on your bed. You sighed as you stood in front of your bedroom mirror, putting your finishing touches on your outfit. Jeremy was supposed to arrive any minute, and you were growing increasingly nervous with each passing second. It'd been a while since you'd been on a date, and you weren't much for relationships, so you didn't have a lot of experience with flirting or carrying small talk.

"He's not a hippie", you giggled, leaning forward and touching up your lip-gloss. "He's just health conscious, and he seems sweet."

"Yeah, give it a couple months and you'll be moving to his commune and stop shaving your legs and wearing deodorant." You gave your sister a look through the mirror, a laugh escaping her lips when she noticed you. "That's not his vibe. He's from Beverly Hills." You were about to carry on when you heard a knock on the door. You might have been a little too eager when you ran past Mattias, who was playing video games on the couch.

Jeremy gave you a mega-watt smile when you opened the door, your stomach full of butterflies when you saw how good he looked outside of his gym clothes.

"Y-you look beautiful", Jeremy stuttered over his words as his eyes roamed your body. "Thanks", you felt your face heat up at his compliment. "Come in, I'm almost ready."

You left Jeremy at the entrance while you ran to your room to grab your purse and slip on your shoes. Jeremy felt uncomfortable, taking in the immaculately kept apartment, full of family mementos and vintage furniture pieces. "What's up Mattias?" Jeremy greeted the 12 year old, who only returned a nod, his focus on the TV.

"So, you're the hippie." Your sister strolled into the living room. She was a single mom, with a past of rough relationships and a bitter baby daddy of her own, so she was always skeptical of every man she came across. Jeremy opened his mouth to defend himself, but you interrupted just in time, pushing him through the door.

"Please ignore my sister, Nikki, she doesn't have any house training." Mattias pushed past the two of you out the front door and ran toward his bike hooked up to the rack out front of the building. "Where are you going?", you asked, confused as to why he'd be leaving after 8pm.

"I'm going to Isaiah's house, we're gonna play hoops.", he threw over his shoulder as he mounted his bike. "You better be back before 10!", you called after him as Jeremy guided you to the car.

Jeremy was still "automobile challenged" ever since he broke up with Tatiana, so he had to practically beg Kamal to use his car, finally breaking him down to borrow the Honda after Jeremy agreed to watch Drew three date nights in a row.

You stood at the passenger side while he struggled to open the rusted door, finally getting it open after a hard pull, stumbling back. "Sorry", he mumbled under his breath with a chuckle as he jogged over to the drivers side, and you slid into the passenger seat. The engine sputtered as Jeremy tried to turn the key, a hard metal scratching sound shook the car. "Sorry", he repeated, his face bright red. Finally the engine turned over-

You covered your ears as music blared through the speakers, lyrics flooding the car as Jeremy frantically tried to find the stereo volume button.

🎶I'm in love with the shape of you We push and pull like a magnet do Although my heart is falling too I'm in love with your body🎶

He punched the "off" button, making you jump. "Sorry." Third time was the charm, even with apologies.

"Ed Sheeran, huh?", you giggled, playfully pushing him in the shoulder. You could visibly see him relax, his shoulders falling down from his ears, as he realized that you were pretty chill and he didn't have to work so hard to impress you.

"Dude, I don't know about this." Mattias sized up the chain link fence in front of him, at least twice his height. It was pitch black, the only light source coming from the flashlight he had in his hand. He looked out to the bright neon sign of the gas station a couple feet away in front of him. Isaiah gave him a push, a few of his other teammates behind him cheering him on. "If you wanna be a part of the team, you've gotta do this."

Growing up, Mattias always had a hard time making friends. He was a really shy kid, and it didn't help that his mom had him moving around all of Southern California, never putting roots down for more than a couple months. By sixth grade, he'd been at his fifth school, and finally his mom promised that he'd be here for a long time. When you moved in to help pay some of the bills and help raise Mattias, he finally felt like he'd found a home, and this time, he was determined to make friends.

The basketball team was his saving grace, because he was spending a lot of time with kids his age, and for the most part they were pretty nice. Isaiah was definitely the leader of the crew, and Mattias felt he had to impress him, which was why he was currently about to jump a fence.

"C'mon, Matti, do it!", his friends edged him on. "C'mon, unless you're a pussy", Isaiah spit out. The was enough to get Mattias going, who jumped onto the chain link fence and hoisted himself over the metal bars, easily jumping down to the other side. "Aren't you guys coming?"

Isaiah and the rest of the group avoided eye contact, no one else working to make their way over the fence too. "No, this is part of the initiation. You have to go into that gas station and steal something without getting caught." Mattias could feel his stomach start to churn. "You do that, you're in the group."

"I don't wanna do that. I'll get in trouble." Mattias could only imagine the look on yours and his mom's face if he was brought home in a cop car. "We all had to do it, so you have to, too. Unless you're scared", Isaiah teased in a sing-song tone, letting out an evil chuckle. He was torn. He was desperate to make friends, but getting caught would for sure get him grounded for the next year and his mom would pull him from the team.

"Do it! Do it! Do it!" Mattias heard the chants behind him as he contemplated his next move. He got a running start, sprinting across the empty field until he reached the edge of the gas station lot. He looked to the right and left of him and made sure that no one saw him enter the convenience store.

He would just make sure he didn't get caught.

So far, the date was going pretty well. You actually enjoyed hearing Jeremy talk about his holistic smoothie business, and it definitely didn't hurt that he was really easy on the eyes.

"So this is your favorite restaurant?", Jeremy switched topics, noticing you staring at him. He was staring at you too, but how could he not, you were fucking gorgeous.

"Yeah, its the first place I came to when I moved here to live with my sister and nephew, and now we come here all the time. Mostly birthday's and celebrations, but its become our spot, ya know?" You gave him a soft smile.

"Are you not originally from LA?" Jeremy asked as he played with the plastic menu in his hands. He already knew the answer, that you were originally from Texas, having practically stalked your social media to prepare for this date, but he wasn't going to let on that he knew that. "No, I'm originally from Houston. Didn't think I'd ever live in LA, but its actually not that bad if you can get past the traffic."

As you continued to talk about your career as a nurse, and the closest thing to your heart, your family, you could see that Jeremy was a little distracted, constantly glancing over your right shoulder. It kind of hurt to think that maybe he thought you were boring and not worth listening to. After the third look past you, you interrupted his eye line, snapping your fingers at him. "Something wrong? Am I boring you?", you ended with a giggle, to soften the blow of your accusation.

Jeremy's throat went dry as he looked at the other side of the restaurant. He'd recognize her anywhere, even her side profile. He was 99% sure that Tatiana was in the same restaurant, on a date with another guy.

"Fuck", he shot out under his breath, but you heard him. "What's going on?", you looked around the room, trying to figure out what had him so upset.

Jeremy remembered where he recognized the red leather booths and the donkey with the sombrero now. This was where he and Tatiana had their first date. His face somehow simultaneously went white and red, his cheeks a bright pink.

"Jeremy, are you okay? You don't look so good." Your voice snapped him back to reality. What the hell was he doing? He was on a date with a gorgeous woman, someone he was lucky to get the attention of, and he was still hung up on on ex. He just needed to get it-

He ducked behind the menu, shielding his face as Tatiana and the mystery guy walked past toward the exit. You pulled up your menu as well, getting level with him. "Who are we hiding from? Do you have warrants out or something?" You were half joking, half hoping he'd tell you no. He ignored your line of questioning, peeking out the side of the shield.

"Jeremy, is that you?" Tatiana stopped at the table when she recognized the brunette. "Uh, no sorry. You must have me mixed up with someone else." Jeremy lowered his voice an octave, a terrible disguise of his voice.

"Jeremy, I know that's you. Why are you hiding?" Tatiana was dancing around the table trying to get a good look at him, but Jeremy was just as quick. After a few seconds she gave up.

"Sorry, I guess I had the wrong person", Tatiana murmured with frustration and kept walking to the exit.

"I think you're in the clear", you said as you watched the door close behind her. Jeremy sat up and adjusted his jacket and hair as if that scene didn't just happen. "So I was thinking of getting the enchiladas, no meat, just beans. What're you gonna get?"

You burst out laughing, garnering the attention of the tables around you. Jeremy looked at you with a deadpan face, his lips in a tight line.

"Ok. So we're just gonna pretend like you didn't do a "She's The Man" with that girl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about", Jeremy replied timidly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

"Listen, its okay. If I saw my ex, I'd probably react the same way." You placed a sympathetic hand on top of his, gently brushing your fingers over his knuckles. "How did you know?". Jeremy was beyond embarrassed for his actions, but at no point did he think he'd run into Tatiana again, and the emotions from seeing her hit him like a ton of bricks.

"I guessed she was either a stalker or an ex, and she was way too pretty to be your stalker, no offense."

Jeremy chuckled, grabbing your hand and gently squeezing it a few times affectionately. You felt a warmth through out your body, and it was like the room was empty, except for the two of you. Suddenly, you were noticing things about him you hadn't seen before. How soft his blue eyes were, the creases that formed in the corner of his eyes whenever he smiled, how cute his freckles were, the dimple. He made you feel safe and beautiful in a way that no guy had in a very long time.

"Do you wanna get out of here?", you whispered. Jeremy's eyebrows rose at the suggestion, but you smirked at him, taming his excitement. "I know a taco stand close to my place. A lot less likely to run into any exes there." You rose and slipped your jacket on, Jeremy right behind you. As he rose from his seat, his back pocket buzzed. "I'll be right there", me motioned to you as you headed to the car.

A photo of him and Kamal together at the championship game illuminated the screen as he pressed answer.

"Hey Kamal, I'm pretty busy right now." Jeremy paused as he listened to a frenzied Kamal on the other line. "Hey, okay, don't worry. I'll be right there."

Tag-List:

@jacks-daycare

@livsters

@katiaw2

@xangelonmyshoulderx

@thatonegirlthatlikesthings

@j0hkiya

@bell3e

@isisosidixj

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@fluidsentiment

@jacksuberdriver

@hallecarey1

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 3: mirror sex

stray kids 1.5k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Bang Chan NSFW

🖤 warnings: undernegotiated kink, implied consent, themes of negative body image🖤

🎂 happy bang chan day~

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

Truly, these are the dangers of not pre-booking a place to stay.

Last-minute travel isn't usually your thing, but an unexpectedly long weekend means that there's finally time in your favorite guy's backbreaking schedule for a little getaway.

But last-minute travel, with no hotel booked, means love motels.

They're not as creepy as they sound, not usually dirty or weird. Inexpensive, yes, and usually a little older than the resorts and boutiques that most people prefer. They get a bad rap just because of the connotations, but like, people have sex in all kinds of hotels.

You think it's kind of cool, honestly. Homey, in a weird way.

The person at the front desk is a nice older lady, and she doesn't even blink as she asks if the two of you have any plans this weekend.

"Plans outside the room, I mean."

She winks. She's not subtle, but it's sweet.

And now, in the elevator, Chan is looking around in unmasked horror. Taking in the garish burgundy interior, the thinly-veiled adverts for sex workers taped to the walls.

"It's not that bad," you say.

"It'll be fine for two nights," Chan replies, sounding as if he doesn't believe that at all. "Anyway, we're only sleeping here. We'll have stuff to do."

"Oh, come on. We might as well put the place to its intended use."

Chan scoffs, as if the idea of using the sex motel for sex is ridiculous.

"As long as the room's clean, that's all I care about," you continue. "It's a hotel. Whatever."

"Whatever," Chan agrees tentatively.

He's still lying to himself, but he does relax a little.

When you get to your floor, things are extremely normal. Nondescript hotel decor, the faint smell of carpet cleaning solution and lemon furniture polish. Cleaner than other places you've stayed for far more money, honestly.

The room itself is at the end of the hall, which you like, for the privacy, even though there are only five or six rooms on the floor.

You let yourself into the room, and it's as clean and fresh as the rest of the hall. Again, about as good as it gets in terms of a cheap hotel.

"See?" you say.

Chan looks at you, clearly unimpressed.

"What? It's clean. I'll check for bedbugs, but other than that..."

He points upward.

There is a giant mirror stuck to the ceiling above the bed, but nowhere is perfect.

"Even that's clean," you joke.

The surface of the glass is spotless, no fingerprints and not even any dust that you can see from down here. Chan still looks unhappy. Cleanliness is obviously not his concern.

"Don't be a downer," you say.

"Why do people like that?" he grumbles.

You've set your bag down on the armchair in the corner of the room, rifling through it for your toiletries to set out in the bathroom, but you humor him without looking. "Like what?"

"The mirrors."

"In the room?" you glance at him. "Isn't that, like, the sex motel cliche? The heart shaped bed, the red lights, the mirrors?"

This room only has one of the above. Pretty tame.

"It just means you have to - I mean, you can already see your partner, why would you need-"

"You're really thinking about this," you interrupt.

He is. He really is, standing beside the bed and staring up at his own reflection pensively.

"It's so you can see yourself," you add, walking past with your armload of cosmetics.

From in the bathroom, you hear his answer, still pouty.

"Why would I wanna do that?"

Oh, here we go.

"Some people get off on it," you say.

He scoffs a laugh, humorless. You're being generous by not calling him out, here, because he's being self-deprecating. You hate that.

"I'm gonna terrify myself in the middle of the night," he says.

That might be true. He's a little bit of a scaredy-cat. But that's beside the point.

"That's not your actual problem, though," you reply, as you come back into the room proper.

He shrugs.

"Haven't you ever been curious?" you ask.

"About what I look like?" he shoots back, glancing back up at the mirror. "Done. Wow."

"I mean during."

Immediately, like flipping a switch, his ears flame pink. "Not really."

"No? Never?"

He looks at you pointedly. He knows what you're doing. You're not subtle, so that's fine.

"We should find out," you say, grinning.

It's a challenge, now.

Your gorgeous, gorgeous boy hates how he looks. That's common knowledge for anyone who's tried to get him to take a photo together, or shop for clothes, or compliment him on a new haircut. Most of your mutual friends just ignore it. But sometimes you just can't stand it.

He would never be the type to want to see himself in the mirror in the throes of passion, uninhibited. Which is exactly why he needs to give it a try.

"How easy do you think I am?" he accuses, correctly.

"I dunno." Instead of bothering him more, you flop down onto the bed yourself, feet still on the floor, staring up at your reflection. "You tell me."

The bait is laid, and like always, his insatiable ass can't help it. You two haven't had proper alone time in what feels like forever. He nudges between your knees, standing over you as you lay there on your back. You already like the look of the scene in the mirror, the way that his reflected form looms, the way it makes you look small.

"You know," Chan says, "We could put this place to its intended use."

You grin at your own words recycled. Great minds and all that.

"What an idea."

"Just an idea," he assures you.

He drops onto his knees, nudging you up the mattress to make room for himself.

You almost lose track of your own plan, once he kisses you. Hands roam, clothes are lost, the ease and comfort of something you've done so many times. For a while, it's just an encounter like all the others. His hands that know you, his warmth and presence and attention.

And then you remember, suddenly, once you're nude and he is too, and he's asking you how you want it.

"You on your back," you say, trying not to smile at your own ingeniousness and reveal the plan.

"You got it, baby."

He flips over, and he's settled fully into the pillows with you halfway onto his lap before he looks up. He looks up at the ceiling, and he realizes.

"Wait-"

"Gotcha," you smirk, settling fully on top of him.

He could very easily just knock you over and change things up, or he could ask you to stop, and of course, you would. But he doesn't. He just flushes, red again down his ears, his neck, and he covers his face with his hands.

"That's not gonna work," you say, peeling his fingers away from his eyes.

"I can't believe you tricked me," he says pitifully.

"I did no such thing," you reply. "But now that we're here, why don't we play a game?"

"Something tells me I won't like this game."

"Here's the rules," you say.

You pause long enough to rise onto your knees, to seek out his length - desperately hard, revealing that you haven't freaked him out too badly - and line him up.

"I'm gonna make us feel good. And you...have to look."

Chan pouts, putting his full lips to good use. "I'd rather look at you. Don't you want me to look at you?"

He punctuates it by running his hands up your back, hips to shoulder blades, soothing attention from gentle fingertips.

"I think you should look at yourself," you tell him.

"But-"

"Actually, no. I think you have to look at yourself," you decide.

He peeks upward. His flush deepens.

You're not sure why he doesn't like what he sees. From where you are, it's stunning. His slim body lines, the sharp cut of his face and his dark eyes against the bleached-white hotel sheets. Distractibly, biteably pink and embarrassed.

"If you don't look at yourself," you add, dropping your hips just enough so that he can feel you, "I'll stop."

He looks overdramatically betrayed, like a dog when you take their toy away to throw it. It's cute enough that you reach down to squeeze his face in your hand.

"That's the game," you say.

"Fine."

His voice is an embarrassed squeak, but that's consent, baby. You trust him enough to know that although he hates losing, he's not going to yes you to death if things are actually feeling uncool.

Permission granted, and his eyes dutifully trained on the ceiling, you ease yourself down onto his waiting length.

Curiously, once you're seated and he's swearing through his teeth, you tilt your head up to look at yourself, too. The angle isn't as good to see you, but you've got the gist of it. Your spread thighs, your arched back, the little bit of motion as you grind on top of him.

Nice.

"Don't we look good?" you ask, sweet as can be.

He nods against the pillow. "You look-"

"Not me," you tut. "You're not supposed to be looking at me."

Chan swears. You wait.

"I...I look..."

After a second, he swallows, and squeezes his eyes shut.

Pity.

You pull back up onto your knees. His wet cock slips free.

"I told you the rules. Keep looking at you."

[ctheathy]

WRITE ME REDSON X MALE READER 😭 DID I DO IT GOOD NOW!????

Red Son General Headcanons

Redson x Reader

General+Fluff Headcanons

Author’s note: Nuh uh you did absolutely TERRIBLE😡. I should just solve the problem and ban you from my account right now. You even went against my rules dipshi- [The requester and I are friends, don't cancel me]

Possibly OOC, but I tried. I had to depend on the wikipedia for information cause I've never even watched Monkie Kid to begin with. This was really just an exception for a friend of mine.

Redson/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

!Male Reader! • Paranoia

The level of priority towards reputation are often known to depend on a rank one was born into or the image they created for themselves over the course of time, which in this case is undoubtedly high... Redson has been shown to hold a lot of family pride and takes any chance to prove his authority over his subclasses. It's safe to say the the demon bull is likely going to have some difficulty swallowing his ego to allow emotional connections to grow and much less legitimise a romantic relationship with someone from the group he has grown acquainted with.

He can also be known to be rather petty and too prideful to accept his flaws. So if happens to be something that irritates you, you're definitely going to end up having one or more squabbles with the son of the Demon Bull King. Especially when it comes to Redson having a fierce temper and such, resulting in him trying to lecture you and get a completely insignificant point across. But I also believe you'd be more capable of keeping him in line instead of if you were to just go along with his behaviour. But it can also cause in a feast of awkwardness, as there have been several occasions where you embarrassingly have to hold Redson back from lashing out at a laughing MK and Mei for calling your arguments a lover's quarrel.

Though even with his high-and-mighty and hostile nature, it is important to remember that as long as a bond is formed, he won't ever actually harm or even remotely think of hurting you. Like, at all. He can be a bit bigmouthed at times, but many of his words should regularly be taken with a grain of salt. He is quick to snap at anyone from time to time, but I believe your presence would definitely keep him tame to a certain degree, as your mere existence just happens to soothe him. So on the bright side, you might be able to kick him off his high horse for the first time during his five hundred years of life.

I can picture Redson having grown up under a domain of regulation where females are generally and more often treated extra delicately due to being more ‘fragile’, so you can expect him to behave firmer, a bit more rough yet open to his real self a lot faster than if you were a female. He'll see you less as a ‘target’ for a lack of better term, and more as a comrade. Plus, if you were to give him the approval he lacked from his parents, it wouldn't feel uncomfortable as long as you have had the opportunity to create a connection. Though primarily, I cannot view intimate scenarios as anything other than plain awkward for a little while. You're gonna have to be the one initiating the hugs with him and give implications to get more touchy feely. Though when surrounded by eyewitnesses, he'll often still end up shooing you away ...you'll perhaps, just maybe absolutely get to hold his hand at most.

I mean, when's the last time you've seen somebody behaving sappy and all goo-goo with the literal son of the Demon Bull King out in the open? He just cannot allow it! Not only for the sake of his dignity, but also to keep up his image so you'll continue seeing him as an almighty demon who has an unnerving amount of political power over any lower rank. As far deep down, hidden within... he wants to appear and be so much more special to you than he'd be willing to admit.

If you were to lack in durability, fighting abilities or overall weapon skills, I can see Redson going out of his way to strictly teach you his ways of strength individually. Not necessarily in a sense to get you to his level, but in order to give you the capability to protect yourself. He would always be there to protect you with ferocious security at a moment's notice [and scold you afterwards for getting yourself in a dangerous situation], but he cannot help but doubt his abilities to ensure your safety at times. Along with fearing for the worst that one time he might not be there to save you. And this singular thought might just be what it takes to make him evaluate how he actually feels about you.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Have you noted that no one from Azula's family was shown to express love and affection towards her?

That is mostly true. Ozai's affection is clearly conditional (and full on manipulation at worse, like we see in the finale), Ursa canonically favors Zuko to the point that we never see her spending any alone time with Azula like she did with Zuko, and while Iroh gave her a toy like he did to Zuko the toy in question was so OBVIOUSLY wrong for a kid like Azula that it's comical AND show's he did not really know his niece at all.

But there is a constant exception.

Zuko's relationship with Azula is complicated. He clearly admires her strength and power, but he hates how she uses it. She lied to him many times, was seen apparently cheering Ozai on during the Agni Kai, tried to have him imprisoned and even said she'd celebrate being an only child - and then allows him to come home as a hero after Ba Sing Se, even though SHE had the control of the Dai Li and was not yet aware Aang could have survived, meaning she had nothing to gain from it.

And when she lets him know that if he's caught talking to Iroh people might think he is a traitor too, and explicitly says "Believe it or not, I'm actually looking out for you" Zuko drops his innitial suspicion that she wanted something and that's why she was helping him.

On The Beach, he just follows her when she say their old family home is depressing and they shouldn't waste their time there. When she's asking him who she is angry at, she mentions herself and Zuko explicitly says that is not the case.

He doesn't trust her and know she has a tendency to mock or full on lie to him... yet when he wants to know about Fire Lord Sozin he asks her about it, and lets it slide when she mocks him by saying he should make sure the royal painter got his good side - for a character as quick to anger as Zuko, that is a big deal. In Nightmares and Daydreams he also goes to her to find out if he'll be allowed at the war meeting.

More importantly:

1 - Iroh's infamous "She's crazy and needs to go down" line was only said because ZUKO, without anyone putting that idea in his head before, suddenly went "I know what you're going to say. She's my sister and I should be trying to get along with her"

2 - Zuko only jumped into the fight in Ba Sing Se when Azula was being cornered by Aang and Katara.

3 - Zuko looked genuinely shocked and even distressed when she was falling off that cliff. He just sounded so shaken saying "She's... not gonna make it..."

4 - In the writer's own words, Zuko felt no hate but only pity when seeing her breakdown. Katara tried to comfort him because, canonically, even though Zuko and Azula are enemies, this was never what he wanted because he still sees her as family. That's why the Last Agni Kai's music is not the epic you'd expect from a battle, but a tragic one.

5 - Aaron Ehasz, the lead writter for the show, probably the person with the most influence after Bryke, has REPEATEDLY said that he always felt Azula should have gotten a redemption arc, Zuko being an Iroh figure to give her advice and be the only one still by her side when all else was seemingly lost to her forever.

Even the comics (most of which I HATE, mainly because Azula's storyline checks nearly every box for "the mentally ill are inherently evil/less human, so it's fine if literally every other person on the planet mistreats them") didn't fully abandon their complex dynamic.

Zuko is not a perfect sibling, and for a long chunk of the story he seemed too focused on his own issues for Azula to ever be a factor in his mind (aside from the moments in which she was a potential/explict threat), but he DOES still feel a sense of obligation towards her, to the point that it made him do something no one else in their family had done before or since - actually look at Azula. Not the prodigious daughter/perfect weapon, or the problem child that is difficult to handle, or the pontentially deadly enemy that was in the way, but Azula.

His 14-year-old sister that got on his nerves a lot, was far from the kindest person alive, and that he had a ton of issues with, but that he could never fully hate or even be indifferent to. Because she's family. Because he remembers a happier time in which the gap between them didn't seem so big. Because if things had been slightly different he could have been her. Because he went from wanting to be her to seeing just how miserable her life ended up being - especially compared to the one he now had - and feeling deeply sorry for her.

Now if you guys excuse me, I'm gonna go cry in the corner. Have some wholesome/bittersweet fanart if you wanna cry too.

[jo-harrington]

Lack of Faith (Eddie Munson)

Summary: Eddie Munson. Dungeon Master, Rock Star Wannabe, King of the Freaks and the Nerds. Can you believe that he doesn't like Star Wars?

Characters: Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin, Wayne Munson, Dustin Henderson, Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair

Themes/Warnings: Our nerdy boy being a nerd, and his nerdlings making him worse, Star Wars references, might borrow some dialogue from the movie Fanboys (2009), boys will be boys, angst-ish, hurt/comfort-ish?, friendship, reference to some FOI characters, don't worry about it.

Note: This has been a thought that's lingered in my mind for quite some time as I am a HUGE Star Wars fan. And a little talk with @br0ck-eddie today (an unrelated topic) brought this back to the forefront of my mind. Tagging @fracturedarkness and @courtingchaos for no reason other than "you'll like it."

This is not an xReader fic. This is about Eddie and Star Wars and if you nerf-herders can't accept that, you can get the kriff out of here. IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT JIZZ IS, KEEP FUCKING MOVING NORMIE.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

It was a normal lunch period.

Well, as normal as it could be when you sat at Hellfire Club's table in the cafeteria. There was no talk of homework, or dates, or crushes.

Instead Gareth was tapping a beat against the edge of the table with two unsharpened No.2 pencils, Dave was working on a new character sheet with Eddie after he suffered a tragic and untimely death during their last session, and the freshman were arguing about something down at their end of the table.

Their heads were bent together, occasionally Mike would throw his head back and groan, and then get right back to his furious whispers. And although Eddie, gracious and fearless leader that he was, was typically grateful that they kept their mindless drivel to themselves, today he was curious.

He could hear little tidbits of their conversation and they intrigued him enough:

"...they still kissed."

"That was to make Han jealous."

"That was the second time, what about the first time?"

"The first time they were about to die!" Dustin got to his feet now, staring at Mike with wide, incredulous eyes. "They were swinging ten-thousand feet in the air!"

"Hey!" Eddie shouted at them now, as kids at the surrounding tables started to stare and laugh. And usually, yes, he'd flip them off, tell them to mind their own business. Pull the whole freak card to get them to look away. The freshman needed to learn when to not place a target on their own backs; he hopefully wouldn't be here to protect them forever. "Shut up! Sit down!"

The three boys immediately clamped their mouths shut and Dustin sunk back into his seat as the older boys snickered.

"What's so important that you're about to start throwing punches over there?" Eddie questioned. The boys seemingly made themselves smaller and Eddie had to sigh. "Come on, I'm not gonna bite your heads off."

The entirety of Hellfire Club shot a skeptical look at him and his rolled his eyes.

"M-maybe you can help us," Mike suggested. "We're in the middle of a debate."

"A debate? What kind of debate?"

"One of the utmost importance," Dustin said desperately. "Because Mike is insane."

"I am not! You're the one who's lost it. 'There's something innate.' Did we even watch the same movie?"

The boys all started to bicker again, louder this time, and Eddie needed to whistle to get them to quit it.

"See that's not very helpful. Why don't you tell me what movie, and what the problem is, and I can offer final and absolute judgement."

"Because you're right all the time," Jeff muttered under his breath to Gareth, causing Eddie to toss an eraser at him good-naturedly.

"Star Wars," the three freshman all answered simultaneously, and then they started talking over each other about whether Luke and Leia knew they were siblings when they kissed or if he had a thing for Leia and if Han was really weirded out by it all when he found out.

They were so caught up in their explanation that they didn't notice the members of Corroded Coffin get all tense, or the way that Eddie began to clench his fists and grit his teeth.

Until aforementioned lead guitarist stood up himself and hauled his backpack over his shoulder. They all stared at him, his bandmates with fearful eyes, and the freshman with hopeful ones.

"Easy," Eddie answered with a sardonic smile. "Star Wars is a dumb shit movie and you shouldn't waste your breath arguing over it."

And he walked past his friends just as the bell rang signaling the end of the period.

---

"What do you mean you don't like Star Wars?"

"Drop it Henderson."

"Is it...are you more of a Trek fan? Is that it?"

"It's not--"

"Because it's ok if you are! I like Star Trek too. I got Vulcan ears for Christmas last year and I have the new Klingon dictionary on hold at Waldenbooks. Pretty sure I'm already better at it than Latin."

"Do you not understand the meaning of drop it?" Eddie slammed his locker shut and stared at the younger boy. "I just don't like it. It's...it's--"

"It's a cultural phenomena!" Dustin cut him off. "It's only the most detailed and expansive fictional universes I've ever experienced. Even better than Tolkien."

"That's blasphemy," Eddie scoffed.

"Ok maybe not Tolkien," Dustin conceded, hands held out innocently. "But seriously, it's insane. I thought that you'd be all over it. I was gonna even talk to you about helping me plan a small one-shot for Lucas' birthday set in the Star Wars universe. I would DM!"

Eddie, though annoyed with the topic conversation, fondly pushed the bill of Dustin's hat over his eyes.

"Come on!"

"Listen I'll help you," Eddie promised. "Whatever you wanna cook up for Sinclair's birthday, I'm your guy. I'll even get the guys to come and play if you want a bigger group. Just anything but Star Wars ok?"

He started to walk away but Dustin was hot on his heels, dodging other students left and right to stay in-step with Eddie.

"Why not? Just give me one good reason why you don't like Star Wars, and I'll drop it. Is it because Obi-Wan wasn't secretly Luke's father? Or..." He fumbled over his words, struggling to find a reason that his friend didn't like one of his favorite series. "Or...because Wedge was a better pilot than Luke but somehow Luke was the star of the Rebel Alliance."

"Stop it now."

"Do you not like C-3P0? No one likes C-3P0! Wait...is that your favorite character and you don't like the movie because everyone else hates him?"

Dustin was sure he'd hit the nail on the head and offered explanations and tried to convince Eddie that he was all wrong. And all of it fell on annoyed ears until Eddie, at his wits end, turned and grabbed Dustin by the shoulders. He stopped them dead in their tracks in the middle of the hallway, uncaring of the other students groans and insults as they pushed past.

"I don't like Star Wars," Eddie said through gritted teeth, a sense of finality in his words so the subject could be dropped once and for all. "Because I've never seen the movies. And I don't want to. They're overhyped, and dumb, and just a way to get little idiots like you to spend their money on posters and action figures and life savers."

"Lightsabers," Dustin corrected him, but then backtracked. "Wh--Eddie? What do you mean? You have to have seen them! Ed...Eddie wait!"

The metalhead let him go and the quickly retreated into the crowd leaving Dustin to call after him, confused.

---

Of course, news spread to the other freshman quickly. Dustin was devastated, Lucas was lost, and Mike felt betrayed that his role model--loose definition--hadn't seen the movies that shaped him as a person to this day. Shaped all of them.

Into nerds.

Even Max was surprised to hear that her neighbor hadn't seen it, as she was dragged to the depths of the Wheeler's basement along with the boys to discuss how this all could have happened.

They thought of everything. Body swaps and mind control. A curse! Mike was dead set on Eddie being a die-hard trekkie and, as someone who disliked the Trek himself, got irrationally angry about it.

"I swear he didn't even bat an eye when I told him about the Klingon!" Dustin exclaimed. "I just...I don't know."

"Well have you asked the rest of the geek patrol?" Max questioned, and all the boys turned to stare at her. "If Eddie hates it so much that he doesn't want to talk about it, the others have known him for a lot longer than any of us have. They're bound to know something right?"

"See this?" Dustin snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "This is why we need you in Hellfire. Eddie wouldn't be able to trick us anymore, you'd see right through it."

"Not gonna happen," she deadpanned.

The boys protested her refusal to play DnD with them, but took her advice and ran with it.

For a solid week, they pestered Jeff, Gareth, and Dave. And for a solid week, the older boys refused to budge. They tried everything. Bribes, blackmail, threats.

"You think," Gareth laughed when the boys cornered him outside the locker room before PE. "That I'm gonna tell you anything after you threaten to have Steve Harrington beat me up? That guy might've been a big douchebag few years ago, but I know he's a loser working at Family Video now."

All hope was lost as he was about to head to class. Until Mike spotted someone out of the corner of his eye, leaving the athletics hall for their next class, and he was struck with inspiration. He called out to Gareth.

"What if I can get you one of my sister's bras?"

Gareth skidded to a halt and looked over his shoulder with shock and, surprisingly, intrigue.

"...go on," he nodded.

Thus, a negotiation was made before the coach blew his whistle. And a few days later after school, at the picnic table out in the woods behind the football field, the exchange took place.

"Gimme the goods," Gareth held his hand out for his bounty.

"Story first, bra later," Lucas scoffed at him. "Otherwise what's to stop you from taking it and leaving."

Gareth clenched his hands and then let out a long-suffering sigh.

"At least lemme see what color it is."

The three freshman ducked their heads together to discuss the risks, and then Mike unzipped his backpack and flashed the tiniest peak of pastel purple lace at him.

"Nice," Gareth nodded. "Alright! You better not have anywhere else to go, we're gonna be here for a little while."

"My mom's not coming to get us until 6," Dustin agreed.

Gareth then took the time to weave the tale. One he heard from Jeff, who heard it from some guy named Dougie, who heard it from a girl named Ronnie, who only knew about it because she was there.

"It's his closely kept secret," Gareth explained. "Ronnie was still here when I was a freshman, and she wouldn't say shit about it. Which is why this can never make it back to me."

"We swear," the boys said simultaneously, and all crossed their hearts.

Apparently, Eddie had been all excited for the very first Star Wars movie when it first premiered. He saw the posters for it at the Hawk and babbled on and on about what it might be about. He'd always been a little interested in space, thanks to Star Trek--

"I knew it!" Dustin exclaimed.

"God damn it!" Mike cursed. "He's a Trekkie!"

"Are you gonna let me tell this story?" Gareth hissed.

"Sorry," Lucas apologized and slugged both of his friends in the arm.

--and he thought Star Wars was gonna be the next big thing. He was sure of it. Not only that, it was gonna be his new favorite thing. He was hesitant to ask his dad to buy tickets for the two of them to go and see the movie together. What with money being tight and his dad's unreliable presence. Still, he heard that the local radio station was giving two tickets away and he called and called and called until he won them.

"Wow," Mike was awestruck. "Two tickets for the opening day of Star Wars. Can you imagine? What a lucky son of a bitch."

"Uh," Dustin watched Gareths shifting eyes and pursed lips. "Mike I think you're forgetting something."

"What?"

"He didn't see it, dipshit," Gareth sneered. "Duh. Isn't that the whole point of you guys bothering me with this? Did you forget?"

Eddie, excited for the day, told his dad, Al, two weeks in advance. He and Ronnie had picked up the tickets for the show after school one afternoon, lying to Ronnie's grandma about having detention. And Al Munson, father of the year, promised that he would be around to take Eddie.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he said and flashed his charming smile at his young and hopeful son. "We can make a day of it, how's that? You got the tickets, I've got dinner at Benny's afterwards. And you can get a sundae for dessert."

Eddie was over the moon, happy that his dad was finally excited for something that he enjoyed. He couldn't be bothered with Lord of the Rings or Narnia or any of the other stories that Eddie enjoyed, but he was excited for this. Probably because it had Wars in it. But that was ok. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

And then the morning finally came. A Wednesday in May, almost time for summer break. Al was sitting on the couch looking at something in the newspaper and Eddie reminded him about the movie before he left to catch the school bus. Al simply patted him on the head and promised to pick him up at 3 so they'd have plenty of time to get a good seat and watch the previews.

"And then the asshole never showed up," Gareth scoffed and broke all the kids hearts.

They didn't know a whole lot about Eddie's dad; he purposefully said precious little except that he was in jail and "belonged there, good riddance." If a good word was said about anyone in Eddie's family, it was said about his uncle Wayne. And even then it was scarce. Hearing this whole story though instantly put a bad taste in their mouths about the elder Munson.

Gareth continued the story, telling them how Eddie sat at one of the picnic tables for his dad until Ronnie and her grandma offered to drive him to the theater so at least he could see the movie. Ronnie even offered to see it with him. But Eddie refused.

"He was sure that his dad was coming. Waited there for hours. Until the movie had started, and then was over. And then he walked home alone."

"But..." Mike frowned. "But then why didn't he try again? Why didn't he go to see it when Empire came out...or...or Lucas...remember when your dad took us to see Return of the Jedi a couple years ago? And we tried to get him to take us all to the midnight showing of the whole trilogy?"

"Yeah! He told us we were crazy for wanting to sit there for 8 whole hours."

"But he didn't wanna see it," Gareth shook his head. "That's the whole point. His dad pissed him off, and now...he's written it all off. He refuses, because...I guess he doesn't wanna admit how upset he was. I don't even know if he cried! Ronnie never told anyone what happened afterwards. We all just know not to say anything about Star Wars around him."

Gareth got his bounty in the end and left, and the three freshman all sat there, defeated.

"I almost wish he was a trekkie," Mike said sadly.

"My dad's left us and it's still somehow not that bad," Dustin whispered.

"Listen," Lucas straightened his shoulders and looked at his friends. "This...man it really sucks, but we can't just give up. Eddie deserves to know all the ups and downs of Star Wars. He would love it. Probably more than the three of us combined. Hell, even Max thought so!"

The other boys nodded in agreement and sat upright as Lucas got to his feet.

"Are we just gonna sit here and let our friend who always looks out for us miss out on the best thing that he's ever seen just cuz his dad's a big asshole? Or are we gonna look out for him too?"

Mike and Dustin clapped and cheered and whooped.

And then the three of them got out their notebooks and began to scheme.

---

Eddie rang the doorbell of the Wheeler's house and waited silently on the porch, hands fiddling with the small gift and binder in his hands.

9am was too fucking early for a birthday party, in his opinion, but for the kids--for Lucas--and for Dungeons and Dragons...eh...he could stand to lose some sleep on a Saturday.

As long as they were done by 7 so he could go make a few bucks at Matt Donovan's party over on Elm. He'd lose out on sleep, but not cash.

The door opened and a tired-looking Ted Wheeler looked Eddie up and down with a sigh, then waved him in.

"They're all downstairs," he droned. "Snacks and sodas in the kitchen. Karen's gone to the store to get more. We're ordering pizza for lunch and there'll be cake a little later."

"Great," Eddie gave him a stiff nod. "Thanks."

Ted grumbled something about "having enough birthday parties for his own three kids let alone their friends too" and Eddie rolled his eyes.

Asshole.

He kicked off his sneakers in the pile by the stairs to the basement and then shuffled down the steps, eager to join his favorite group of idiots for a day of fantasy escapism.

And he was excited; it had been a while since he'd gotten to play one of his characters and Dustin had put together a fantastic campaign for Lucas.

Only...when Eddie got to the basement, he was in for a shock.

No tables and chairs, no dice, no maps or figures. No binders or books or character sheets. Nothing.

Just his friends all sitting together on and around the couch facing the tv set that had been set up in front of it.

With lightsabers in their hands.

They all cheered when they saw Eddie, Lucas the loudest of all.

Well, not all of them. Jeff, Gareth, and Dave all looked about ready to run. Especially when they saw the scathing look on Eddie's face.

"You're finally here!" Lucas laughed. "You're late.

"Happy Birthday," Eddie deadpanned and threw the gift to him. "What the hell is going on here?"

"What does it look like?" Dustin snarked. "It's Lucas' birthday."

"It was supposed to be Dungeons and Dra--"

"Well, I changed my mind," Lucas said smugly. "I thought...you know what, save it for the summer so we can make it longer than just a one-off campaign. Dustin worked really hard on it after all."

Eddie couldn't deny that. Still he glared at the plastic...toys that the boys all held.

"And you just happened to pick Star Wars?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest as he eyed them all skeptically.

"It's my favorite," Lucas insisted. "Not the first time I've had a Star Wars themed party. First time we're watching the trilogy all the way through though."

"Yeah cuz someone fell asleep last time we tried," Dustin jabbed Mike in the shoulder with his lightsaber pointedly.

"That's why we're starting so early this time," Mike parried with a jab to Dustin's stomach.

"So," Lucas stared Eddie down with challenge in his eyes. "Are you just gonna stand there and ruin my party? Or are you gonna sit down? Because we're never gonna get to Empire by the time the pizza gets here if we don't start soon."

Eddie stared at the hopeful expressions in all of his friends--his little sheeps--faces. Even the ones who were familiar with his feelings about the franchise.

And he weighted his options.

Eddie was a man who abided by the code. He'd gotten burned to many times in life not to. And that code included things like never trust your dad, rich people are assholes, popular girls are bad news. Somewhere in that list though, between always change your underwear when you think they're still clean and shake the can of soda before you hand it to your friends was never watch Star Wars.

It'd been that way for years.

But since the start of the school year, since Eddie had met these three kids...he'd started changing his code.

Steve Harrington wasn't an asshole. Well he used to be, but he proved that he could change.

Not all popular girls were bad news. Nancy was helping him work towards a better grade in biology and the student council president had slipped her number into Eddie's locker the other day.

And while there might be things that would never change--his father wasn't trustworthy, end of story--he figured...for his friends he might be able to bend some of his self-imposed rules.

Eddie sighed and looked at television screen with the words A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far, Far Away... frozen, and he felt a little pang in his heart.

And if he could do things like that for his friends...

His inner 10-year old self was sitting at that picnic table still, waiting for the van to pull into the parking lot. Only this time, he wasn't left high and dry. This time a much older Eddie drove up and popped open the van doors for little Eddie to hop in. They could finally fulfill this dream together.

...he certainly could do things like that for himself.

"Alright," he closed the distance and pushed his way through his friends so he could plop front and center on the floor in front of the television. He tried to keep the sour attitude, but as a blue plastic lightsaber was pressed into his hands, he couldn't help but crack a smile. "Let's see what all the hype is about."

The group cheered and Gareth pressed play on the remote.

And as the swell of music began and STAR WARS flashed on the screen, Eddie said aloud...

"Hey guys, what if it sucks?"

[scintillyyy]

Dick takes a deep breath as he fiddles with the bowtie of his tux. Everything will go just fine, he tells himself. It's a perfect day. He's getting married. Happiest day of his life. Nothing can ruin it. Nothing. Not the snafu with getting the marriage license. Not Bruce breaking his back and not being able to come. Not even any reservations he might be having about whether this is even a good idea to begin with. Really, none of that will matter once the music starts, the vows are said, the cake is cut. Any negativity will just be a minor footnote in the best day of his life.

"Nice bowtie," a vaguely familiar voice snickers from behind him. "You look really dapper." It takes everything in Dick not to visibly startle. It would have been really embarrassing if he had. He is Nightwing, after all. He's better than that.

So who could have possibly gotten the jump on him? His awareness is second to (almost) none. His mind shifts into high gear, this could be dangerous and he really, really does not need this on this perfect day-

He whirls around, tensing, mentally preparing for a fight if need be-

"You," he sputters, instead. The kid--*the* kid, circus kid--is sprawled on a chaise and furiously pressing buttons on his cell phone. He opens and shuts his mouth in disbelief, trying to figure out what on earth is happening. Why. How. "What are you doing here?" he finally manages to get out. This kid has been annoyingly evading him for months after the debacle at Haly's and he just shows up here? Now? Why.

The kid holds up a finger as if to say 'hold that thought'. Dick clenches his jaw in annoyance. The kid presses a few more buttons and finally looks up at him.

"These brick phones, my god," the kid says, "Forgot how annoying T9 texting is, really, how do you guys even deal-" the kid stops himself and clears his throat, "Sorry. Um. Did you ask something?"

Much to Dick's consternation, though, Timothy Drake just looks delighted. "You figured it out," he says brightly. "I mean. Of course you figured it out. I wouldn't have expected anything less."

Dick bites back a frustrated groan. "Yea," he snaps. " I asked 'what are you doing here'," he pauses, "-Tim." He says the name with a sharp smile. Hopefully that put a little pressure on the kid, the fact that Dick figured him out. He deserves it. It's what he gets for thinking he can one up Nightwing. And for the way he walks around all holier than thou, totally secure in his knowledge of everyone's secret identities--seriously, how does he even know-

Ugh. Awful. Dick was really hoping the kid would be intimidated. It's rather annoying that he's not. "You didn't really think I'd believe your name was Alvin Draper, did you?"

Tim smirks and opens up his mouth as if to reply when he's interrupted by the sound of a ringing phone. He holds up a finger one more time to Dick before answering his cell. "Hello?" he says. "Mom! You made it to Gateway City alright? How was the flight?" he pauses. Dick can hear a female voice coming out of the phone, but can't make out any words. "Geez, mom, don't you dare stress about it," Tim continues on, completely ignoring Dick again. "You're gonna knock the guest lecture out of the park. I know it. Me?" Tims eyes dart to the side. "Of course I'm at school. Where else would I possibly be?" He pauses for a minute. "I promised you I'd stop sneaking off campus, didn't I?" Another pause. "Seriously, I'm at school, I swear." Tim bites his lip. He looks a little guilty. Dick can't deny the little satisfaction he gets from that. From the sound of it, the kid is quite the lying little truant. He should feel guilty. Especially because he's lying to come bother Dick on his wedding day. A day that has enough little problems as it is. Dick really does not need more. "Okay. Okay. Will do," Tim is saying to the woman on the phone. "Yea. Love you. Bye." Tim finally hangs up the call and his expression brightens again as he looks back up at Dick. "Sorry about that," he says. "So what did you want to know again?"

Dick grinds his teeth. For the love of- "What are you doing here?" he asks--for the third time.

"Oh, that," Tim says brightly. "I just thought you might want to know that Raven's going to crash the wedding, like literally, crash into the wedding and totally blow up the officiant today. Like kablooey, poof." Tim waves his hands around his head for added effect. "Not a fun time for anyone here. You might wanna do something about that."

Dick can feel his brain short-circuit as he tries to make sense of what the kid is telling him. He can feel his temper start to rise as what the kid said really sinks in. "No way," he snarls. "Just because you got lucky at the circus and somehow saved Wilhelm and you seem to know way too much for your own good doesn't mean you get to come in and make all sorts of wild accusations about my friends, how dare you-"

Tim looks genuinely disheartened by Dick's anger. "I'm not trying to cause trouble, really," he says. "I was just hoping to stop anything bad from happening today. I thought you'd at least consider believing me after Haly's." Tim shakes his head with a small sigh of defeat. "Seriously, I expected Bruce totally brushing me off, but I figured I could count on you to keep an open mind. Well, at least I tried. Stay safe out there." Tim jumps off the chaise in one smooth motion and moves to head towards the door.

"Wait," Dick says. It's probably a bad idea to even entertain this crazy kid. But it's probably an even worse idea to just let him go like this. Tim pauses and looks back expectantly. "What do you mean, you expected Bruce to brush you off. About what?"

Unfortunately, Dick does know Bruce. And he knows that Tim is exactly right about that. "It's terrible, isn't it?" Dick sighs in agreement before he can stop himself. Tim's eyes light up in absolute elation. Dick groans internally. He shouldn't have even given the kid an inch. Somehow he just knows that Tim is going to take a mile.

Tim snorts. "I totally tried to warn him that Bane was aiming to break his back and that fighting everyone without help was going to bite him in the butt, but did he listen? No, of course not. He probably thought the warning was part of Bane's master plan to take him down and ignored it," Wait. Bruce was warned about the injury and didn't do anything to stop it so he could come to Dick's wedding. What a--Dick grits his teeth. Tim rolls his eyes. "Probably my fault anyway. I should have known better. I mean, you know Bruce. Sometimes trying to help him is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone."

But still. Somehow this annoying, cagey, know-it-all kid is right. The kid was right at the circus. He's right about Bruce. And as much as Dick doesn't want to think about everything that's downright conspiring to ruin what should be the best day of his life, maybe he should at least hear the kid out and consider whether he's right about this too.

Ugh. Terrible. So much for nothing can possibly ruin his day.