#last time i thought i broke a finger.. which maybe i did but i never got it checked but it healed sorta fast but not without pain

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

When You’re Gone

(Ex!Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You go to one of Eddie’s shows and see him for the first time since you broke up and he’s willing to do anything to win you back. WK: 5.8K

Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning, mention of heart break/break ups, Eddie was kind of dick before the break up but he’s sweet through this entire thing, pining, unprotected sex, fingering, sixty nine, just a lil bit of choking, fluff fluff fluff, lmk if I missed any! 18+MDNI!!

A/N: So I’ve been missing Eddie a lot, I’ve been thinking about writing for him again off and on but the fear that I have from being bullied in this fandom has stopped me. But I guess all it took for me to break was seeing that ASSS so, I offer you this. Idk when I’ll write ST again, maybe it’ll be consistent, maybe it won’t. I guess this is a bit of a trial run. I put my HEART into this, I really kind of poured everything I’ve been feeling the last few months into writing this so that makes me extra nervous. But I hope you guys like it, I love u🖤

You couldn’t believe you let Robin talk you into this. You hadn’t seen or talked to Eddie In months. Not since you stormed off the set of the music video he practically begged you to star in. He was being a gigantic snob the entire shoot. Telling you that “you weren’t doing it right” or “looks like we are going to have to shoot that again, can you get your head in the game, babe?” But the thing was your head was in the game and you were doing every single thing he asked exactly how he asked and yet it still wasn’t enough.

That was just the final straw. He had been acting like the sun revolved around him. Around his music. Around partying and blowing money just so he could brag about the shit he has. He started calling your friends and family back home less and less. Missing date nights. Forgetting anniversaries. He stopped telling you how beautiful you looked any chance he got and treating you like you were his everything because he had so much more than you now. Which you would never be upset about, you were and are still proud of him for every single thing he’s accomplished. But that problem was that he stopped being your Eddie almost entirely.

You hoped that it would pass, that it was just because it was all so new, the money, the fame, the adoration. But after almost two years it just continued to get worse and no matter how much you tried to bring it up to him he just reassured you time and time again that you meant everything to him. With no change. You couldn’t continue to give him everything while it felt like he virtually forgot you existed everyday. So you walked away, even though he was yelling after you, not because he wanted you to stay, but because he needed to get back on set and finish filming. You went back to your shared home, packed your things, and left.

Robin was more than happy to let you stay with her and her girlfriend while you got back on your feet. You couldn’t stay in L.A. without Eddie, he was all you had there. So you went back home to Indiana. To your friends and your family. Where you felt seen and you felt like you mattered again. But that didn’t take away the ache in your heart for him. The entire piece of you that felt like it was missing without him. Eddie had been a constant in your life since you were little.

You grew up together. You were both too stupid to get your heads out of your asses and admit how crazy you were about each other until you graduated highschool but you thought after that it would be forever. It’s always been you and him. You went through every phase, every hardship, every big life event with Eddie by your side. When him and the guys got that record deal you were more than happy to continue to stand by him through it all. But apparently he didn’t feel the same. Which felt like a stab in your chest day after day. You really did miss him so much. But you weren’t even sure if he missed you too.

Eddie was sweating fucking buckets. He hasn’t been this nervous for a show in over a year, going up in front of all those people was a walk in the park to him at this point. But knowing you were going to be here tonight changes everything. He wants it to be perfect. He’s been working on this song for you since you left, just hoping that he would have a chance to play it for you. He didn’t want you to hear it on the radio, no, he wants you to hear it directly from him. He wants to see your face after. He wants to tell you how sorry he is for losing sight of the only thing that made all of this worth it. He just wants you.

Not a day has gone by since you left that he didn’t feel empty. He couldn’t do anything without thinking of you. His favorite restaurants were your favorite restaurants. His favorite movies were your favorite movies too. Your side of the bed being empty made him feel so lonely that he started just passing out on the couch every night to avoid looking at it. He stopped going to parties. Hardly ever saw anyone unless he had to go to the studio or play a show. Tour was awful, you were by his side through their entire debut tour so doing it without you felt like doing it without one of his guitar strings, or his arm.

The fans could tell he was less engaged. His record label was on his ass and so were the guys. He just couldn’t seem to shake you. At this point none of it even feels like it matters if he can’t have you. You’re all he wants and if he has to do all of this without you, if this is what ruined the two of you, part of him doesn’t even want it. A big part. He’s thought about dropping everything and just flying home to beg at your doorstep. But each time he talked himself out of it, not even sure if you’d want to see him.

But tonight? You were going to be here at his show and this was his chance to win you back. He would give it all up for you in an instant, all you had to do was ask and he would do it, no matter what it was. So when Robin called him and asked him to set aside an extra ticket for you he felt like this was the universe giving him another shot. He just hoped you would too.

Your whole body was vibrating as you watched Eddie on stage, your heart felt like it was practically beating to the sound of his music, calling out to him. He looked good, really good, and as emotional as you are you still can’t deny the way your core throbs, and your thighs clench together at the sight of him. His hair was a perfect mess, the tattered at the knee jeans he was wearing fit him like a dream, and were reminiscent of the ones he used to wear, when he was your Eddie. Not the designer ones you’ve seen him in recently. He was wearing the battle vest you guys made in your first apartment before everything got chaotic and went to shit. With nothing under it. His tattooed chest and torso were on display and you noticed a few new additions. But your eyes nearly pop out of your head when they land on the little stick-n-poke heart with your initials in the middle that you gave him when you were 18 was touched up.

You can’t tear your eyes away from it for a good thirty seconds, just as they start to well up with tears you snap yourself out of it, looking up at his face again. This time locking eyes with him for the first time in nearly six months. Eddie’s soft chocolate eyes go wide and his fingers falter on the strings for half a second before he fucking smirks at you right as he picks up on the chorus. He keeps his eyes on you for the rest of the song, before announcing that they only had a few left.

Eddie is trying to focus on the crowd, focus on his chords, focus on anything but you, but it’s damn near impossible. His eyes just keep traveling back to you because he missed you so much, because you looked so fucking beautiful standing in the very front row under the stage lights and you were looking at him in a way that gave him hope. He made eye contact with a few fans, reached down to touch their hands, but no matter what he did he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. When it came time to announce the second to last song he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before turning to address the crowd.

“Hey guys.” Cheers erupt all around you and Eddie smiles, flipping his sweaty hair back, making you and probably every other girl in the room swoon. “Thanks for coming out tonight, you’ve been fucking awesome. This next song is… well, it’s a new song. I mean, it’s new to you guys, I’ve been working on it for a while. So there’s this girl…” His eyes lock with yours again and your heart beats somehow even faster. “She’s here tonight and I really fucked things up with her, obviously some shitty song isn’t gonna erase all of that. But I guess this is just kind of my way of trying to make up for it. Or at least starting to.”

As the band plays the opening notes of the song you immediately notice it’s a lot slower and more melodic than their usual songs. They have a few other songs like this, love songs that Eddie wrote about you, happy ones. But this is nothing like that, especially when Eddie starts to sing. He never takes his eyes off of you as the lyrics fall from his lips, lyrics about how sorry he is, how badly he fucked up, how he misses you so much he feels like his soul is missing. He pours his heart out to you as his deep voice filled with longing fills the venue.

You can’t stop the silent tears that stream down your face, unable to tear your eyes away from his for even a second. Eddie Munson, the love of your life, the beautiful boy who you got to watch turn into an even more beautiful man, is standing in front of thousands of people practically begging you for another chance. And it’s like every dream you’ve had since you left coming true. All you wanted was for him to come back to you and apologize, maybe beg a little. You might be an idiot for holding out hope that he would, but you always knew in your heart that you’d take him back if he did. It might take some time for you to fully trust him again, but if he’s willing to try so are you.

As the song comes to an end Eddie thanks everyone, making the crowd go crazy. Then he announces that the next song will be their last before looking down at you again. The flashing lights dance over the tears streaming down your cheeks but you’re smiling at him and it makes his heart soar. And when you blow him a kiss that he of course catches, putting it close to his heart like he has a million times, he feels like a dorky teenager in love with his best friend again. He watches you disappear into the crowd and his heart falls, almost forgetting that he was even on stage performing, all he could see was you. He could hardly focus through the last song, hastily thanking everyone for coming because he was absolutely terrified that you left without even giving him a chance to talk to you face to face.

You push through the sea of sweaty bodies until you get to the far end of the stage, stopping in front of the security guard, who of course recognized you and let you pass without even glancing at the bracelet on your wrist. You run over to Robin, practically knocking her over.

“Whoa! Slow down dude, are you okay? That was… a lot.” Robin grabs onto your shoulders to center you, her eyes laced with concern.

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m uh - I’m gonna go wait for Eddie in his dressing room.” You bite your lip nervously, avoiding eye contact with her, scared of her reply.

“Oh thank god! I can’t wait to tell Steve the plan worked!” Robin’s eyes go wide as her hand comes to cover her mouth. “I meaaan…”

“You know what? I’m going to bug you about this later, but right now I have to go.”

“Yesss!!! Go get your man!!!”

You snort as you turn away from her, rushing down the hall until you see the door with Eddie’s name on it. You pace the room a few times before sitting down on the black leather couch, bouncing your leg so hard it makes the legs shake. The air feels especially humid as your nerves course through your body, the material of the couch sticking to your bare thighs with each bounce of your knee. You can’t stop messing with your hair, adjusting your top, fiddling your fingers. It’s probably only been ten minutes but it feels like it’s been an eternity when the door finally pushes open.

“Princess” Eddie stands in the doorway, looking stunned. His eyes are wide, and filled with adoration as his large ringed hand comes to rest against his chest. “Hi.”

“Hi Eddie.” You smile at him softly as you let out an almost dreamy sigh. “I liked your song.”

“Yeah?” He takes a few steps forward until there’s only a few feet between you. “I missed you. I’m so sorry, I was such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I let you walk away.”

His eyes are sad as he casts them down, looking at his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. A classic tell tale sign that Eddie was nervous.

“And I totally get it if you don’t want anything to do with me still, I fucked up. Bad.”

“Eddie…” you sigh, standing up to close the remaining distance between you. You grab onto his hands, stopping his movements as you look up into his eyes. “Look at me.”

When he looks you in the eyes again his own are brimmed with tears, and his lip is quivering. And even though you’re still upset with him, all you want to do is comfort him. It was like second nature to you.

“I love you.” You say it so plainly, so matter of fact that it makes the tears flow down his cheeks, a heavy sob escape his chest. You grab onto his cheeks, pulling his forehead down to rest against yours. “I love you Eddie.”

“I love you. I love you so much. I miss you everyday. None of this is worth it without you. Everything feels so dull. Everything I do reminds me of you.” His hands come to rest over top of yours as his tears continue to flow, tears of your own now streaming down your face. “Please just give me a chance to make it up to you, sweetheart. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave it all behind. Never touch my guitar again. Cut off my arm. Anything.”

“Well, you don’t have to go doing all of that…” you chuckle, tilting your chin so you can connect his lips with your own. You pour everything into that kiss, your love for him, your hurt, your anger, your longing. And he does the same. Kissing you like he would die if he didn’t. You only pull away when you absolutely need to take a breath of air. Foreheads still connected as you pant against each other's lips, just inches apart.

“God I missed your lips, princess.” Eddie runs his hands down your face, cupping your jaw. “Missed every part of you.”

“I missed you too Eddie, god.” You kiss him again, this time running your tongue across his plush bottom lip. He immediately grants you access, intertwining your tongues with a groan. Your fingers come up to lace through his curls, and tug causing him to moan into your mouth. His hands travel down your body, resting on your hips, his thumbs just grazing that bit of skin between your top and your skirt. You push yourself further against him, moaning when his hands move to grab your ass.

“Baby, wait, don’t you think we should talk more?” He pulls away breathlessly tilting his head back so he can look at you.

“Later. We can talk later.” You take a few steps back, stumbling a little on your heeled boots as the backs of your knees hit the couch, you plop down, pulling Eddie down with you. He puts his hands on the back of the cushions on either side of your head so he can lean down over you, his face inches from yours, his hair almost acting like a curtain around you, shielding you from the outside world. “Kiss me again, please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, princess, I told you I’d do anything, didn’t I?” He smirks at you as kisses you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan as your fingers desperately grasp onto the sides of his vest, pulling him closer.

“Touch me, Eddie.” You whimper, leaning back to look up at him through your lashes, your lips are kiss swollen and your lipstick is all but nothing at this point.

“Baby, are you sure you don’t want to talk before we-“

“Eddie, I appreciate your chivalry, I really do. But you said anything, right? I want, need, to feel your fingers again, please.” And how could he resist you, when you’re looking at him like that? And your skirt is pushed so far up your legs he can see your little lace panties, his favorite pair, if he isn’t mistaken. He would literally lick the bottom of your boots if you asked him to.

“I told you that you don’t have to beg, doll, I’m the one that should be begging for the privilege of being able to touch you.” He smirks, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips before kissing down your jaw, to your throat, leaving little nips along the way. “Missed this body so much.”

One of his hands grabs onto the top of your thigh, his thumb running over your slit through the thin lace of your panties pulling a soft moan from your lips.

“Missed this pussy so much.” He grazes over your clit before applying light pressure, rubbing circles on it with the pad of his thumb. “You’re so wet for me already, your body missed me too, huh sweetheart?”

“Yes, missed you so much, baby.” You pull him down further so that his free hand is resting on the cushion next to you and his neck and jaw were close enough to kiss and suck bruises into. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“All yours.” He chuckles as pushes your panties to the side, circling two fingers around your entrance and curling them upwards, stroking them against your sweet spot immediately. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight, practically sucking me in.”

“My fingers were never be as good as yours - ohmyfuckinggod.” A loud moan rips through you and your head falls back against the couch as he starts to thrust his fingers quickly in and out of your dripping hole. His thumb finds your clit, circling it in time with his fingers as his lips attach to your neck, giving you a mark of his own.

“Never have to live without them again if you don’t want to, I’ll worship this pussy everyday until I die if you’ll let me.” Eddie kisses down your chest, using his free hand to push your little tank top and bra down, freeing your tits. He kisses across the tops of them, leaving gentle open mouth kisses on both your peaked nipples before licking between the valley of them. He slides his tongue over so he can latch onto one of your nipples and it sends you over the edge.

“Ohhh fuck! Eddie! I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers as he continues to thrust them deep and fast into you.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl, cum for me. You look so fucking beautiful.” He kisses your cheek before leaning up and pulling his fingers from you. He holds eye contact with you as he sucks them into his mouth with a groan. “Just as sweet as I remember.”

“Eddie, please fuck me, I need you.” Your legs are still spread, your glistening pussy practically calling his name, framed perfectly by those little panties that he loves so much like a work of fucking art. The way your shirt and bra are pushed down under your tits is making them look irresistible. He leans down, resting both of his hands on your knees, and smiles at you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You have no idea how fucking badly I want you right now, but can I take you back to my hotel? I wanna take my take with you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours before sliding it along your cheek, placing a soft kiss there.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” You’re breathless and so fucking horny but the idea of getting to fuck Eddie in a bed, where you would be totally alone, sounded a lot more appealing than fucking him in a dressing room where anyone could walk in.

You grab onto Eddie’s vest and push it off his body the minute the door to his hotel room is shut behind you. You take his face in your hands, your eyes shining as you look up at him while you rub your thumbs across his temples.

“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You coo at him, running your hands down his chest.

“I like your new tattoos… and this.” You run your pointer finger across the band of his pants before tracing the little heart on his hip. “When did you do this?”

“Uh - A few weeks ago.” He grabs the hand tracing along his hip and takes it in his own, bringing it up to his lips so he can place a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I was getting this other tattoo and my artist asked if I wanted to cover it up. I laughed at him and told him to touch it up instead.”

“Eddie… you feel heat rise in your cheeks as butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you so bad.”

“Yeah, pretty girl? I told you I’m all yours.” He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back toward the bed so he can sit on the edge of it with you between his spread legs. “Gonna worship this body, show you how much I missed you.”

He grips onto your shoulders rubbing them gently for a moment before hooking his fingers in the straps of your bra and tank top, pulling them down your shoulders. He leans forward, kissing along your bare collar bone as one of his hands snakes around under your skirt to grab a hand full of your ass.

“Missed these perfect tits.” He takes them in his hands, squeezing them, before he grabs onto the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, his fingertips gently gliding over your skin with each touch. He took his time taking your skirt off, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could until you were completely bare before him. “So fucking perfect, baby doll.” He grips onto your ass looking up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Need to taste that sweet pussy.”

“Take your pants off first.” You reach forward and undo his belt before working on his button and zipper, popping them open to reveal his thick cock covered by the material of his boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down to his ankles and you bend down to unlace his boots.

“Fuck, you look so sexy, makes me think about that time I made you hump my boot…” Eddie smirks down at you as he takes your face in his palm and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.

“Yeah, that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, if I’m being honest.” You giggle before flicking your tongue out to run it along the pad of his digit.

“Jesus Christ, get up here before I bust from just looking at you.” Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you back up to your feet before kicking his pants off the rest of the way. He lays back on the bed, patting his chest. “Sit on my face, princess. Your throne missed you.”

You stand there for a moment, just looking at him. He keeps telling you how perfect you are but he doesn’t even realize how truly perfect he is. The way he was smiling at you like you hung the stars, his ink covered arms that are more toned now than when you were younger, along with his more broad chest that’s now nearly covered in tattoos. Your eyes travel down his torso to his happy trail, the v lines on his hips, and settle on the way that his cock is straining in his boxers. He was lying there, so perfect, calling his face your throne, and he is just so your Eddie.

“You good, sweetheart? Or are you hypnotized by my otherworldly handsomeness?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning back on his elbows. You know he’s trying to be goofy but it only makes you even more desperate for him. You climb onto the bed to straddle him, your bare pussy resting on top of his cock, only separated by the thin material of his boxers.

“Yeah, I just really fucking need you.” You grind down on him, pulling a groan from him as you lean down to lick across his lips, sucking on the bottom one before pulling away with a pop.

“Fuck, get up here, now.”

He pats his chest and his tone has you clenching around nothing. He grips onto your ass, jiggling it in his hands before landing a smack on one of your cheeks. You moan as you scoot up so that your thighs are resting on either side of his head with your pussy hovering just over his mouth. Eddie wraps his arms around your legs, pulling you down so he can bury his face in between your legs. He licks a long stripe along your wet slit before circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh - fuckingshit - feels so good.” You moan as he shoves his tongue as deep as he can inside you, flicking it against your inner walls.

“Yeah, that’s my good girl, missed this sweet fucking pussy so much.” He swirls his tongue inside you before he brings it up to your clit again, licking it with the flat of his tongue. He sucks your clit and your pussy lips into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll back.

“That’s so fucking good, yeah, eat my fucking pussy.” You lean back resting your hands on his thighs as you start to grind down on his face. You bring one of your hands to his cock, stroking him through his boxers, chasing him to moan even louder into your pussy. “Fuck, Eddie, I wanna taste you.”

You push yourself up off of his face and he looks up at you with a pout but before he can even protest you’re throwing one of your legs over his head so you can flip around and straddle his face reverse cowgirl.

“Oh jesusfuckingchrist, baby.” Eddie groans, grabbing onto both of your ass cheeks and jiggling the meat of them in his hands. You hook your fingers in the band of his boxers so you can pull his cock free, spitting on your palm and taking it in your hand. “Fuck.”

“Need to taste you too, baby.” You lean down, flicking your tongue out to leave little kitten licks on his tip before sucking it between your lips.

“God damn, princess, fucking missed your mouth so much.” Eddie moans as he uses his grip on your ass to pull your pussy down on his face again, burying his tongue deep inside.

You take him further down your throat, swirling your tongue around his shaft and using your hand to stroke what isn’t in your mouth. Eddie eats your pussy like a man starved, bringing his lips to your clit as he inserts two of his thick fingers inside you.

“Yes, yes, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pull off of him continuing to use your hand to stroke his spit soaked cock. He picks up the speed of his fingers as he sucks on your clit even harder. “Oh god - I’m - I’m fucking cumming!”

Your walls clench around his fingers and your thighs squeeze around his head as your high washes over you, loud moans and the sound of your wet pussy filling the room. Eddie doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him because it becomes too much. He grips onto your hips, flipping you over into your back before covering your body with his own. He connects your lips in a heated kiss, his lips and chin still slick with your wetness as you taste yourself in his tongue.

“Need to be inside of you, fuck.”

“Yes, please please fuck me, I need to feel you.” Eddie uses one hand to grip onto the base of his cock, running the tip through your folds before pushing it inside you. “Oh, god.”

“Shit baby, you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet.” Eddie grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, pushing his hips flush against yours before pulling almost all the way out and slamming into you even harder. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, one of his hands on your hip while the other wraps around your neck just tightly enough.

“Yeah, fucking choke me, missed your hands around my throat, missed you, fuck.” Eddie picks up the pace, his hips smack loudly against yours as the hand on your hips moves down so he can rub circles in your clit.

“Fuck, baby girl, missed you too, missed this fucking pussy. Gonna fill you up, need you to cum for me.” The hand around your throat squeezes just a little tighter as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are gripping onto his shoulders so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if your nails break the skin. His circles on your clit never let up as he tilts his hips so he’s hitting your sweet spot just right.

“Oh - my fucking - fuck, I’m cumming I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vise grip as you run your nails down his back.

“Gonna cum too, baby, gonna fill this pussy up so good. Never quitting you. Gonna marry you someday.” Eddie’s thrusts grow sloppy until he’s pushing his hips flush against yours and emptying inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, rocking his hips slowly as he rides out his high. He lets his body rest on top of yours, placing gentle kisses on your neck. You bring your hands to his head and lace your fingers through his hair so you can lightly scratch his scalp.

“I love you, Eddie.” You sigh, dreamily. “I know we have some stuff to work through, and talk about, but I’d really like to make it work. You really wanna marry me someday?”

“What!” Eddie pushes up on his hands, so he can look at you, a big goofy smile on his face. “Of course I wanna fucking marry you! It’s only been the plan since we were 8 and I gave you that ring I won with arcade tickets.”

“I just… I don’t know, I thought maybe you got sick of me and that’s why…”

“Baby…” Eddie’s voice suddenly sounds a little sad, maybe guilty. “That was never… I would never, fuck. Hold on.”

He gets up off the bed so he can find his vest, he picks it up off the ground and pulls something from the pocket before coming back to sit next to you on the bed.

“Can you sit up for me?” You sit up in front of him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a pout on your lips. “I got this… well, I got this a few months before you left and I was just waiting for the right time, ya know? And honestly it never came because I had my head so up my own ass that I wasn’t making the time. But uh - I want you to have it. Even if you don’t say yes, I got it for you, so it’s yours…”

He opens his hand to reveal a little black square box and when he opens it, sitting inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Set in the middle is a big shiny ruby, bracketed by two little bat wings on each side that lead into the band. It was perfect, you’ve been telling him practically your whole lives that if someone proposed to you with a boring ass dimond you would say no, no matter how big it was.

“Eddie…” Your eyes well up with tears as your bottom lip quivers. “Is that really for me?”

“Princess.” He chuckles, reaching a hand out to wipe away a stray tear that escaped. “Of course it’s for you. It’s always been you. And it always will be. Even if you don’t want me back.”

“Eddie, I - yes.” You smile widely at him, wrapping your hand around his wrist so you can turn your head to place a kiss there. “It’s always you, you’re the only one for me. You have a lot of making up to do… and it might take me some time to get fully over all of this but… I still wanna marry you. It’s you and me, till the day we die, stab a goblin in the eye.”

“Yeah baby.” He chuckles, a few tears of his own streaming down his face. You still wanted him. You were going to take his ring. You were sitting here in front of him more beautiful and grown than ever, repeating the words that you had said to each other as kids more times than he could count. “Till the day we die.”

He pulls the ring from the box and you offer him your left hand so he can slide it on your finger. You both smile widely and teary eyed at each other as he pulls you into a kiss. This one is different, this one is full of promise and hope and it’s like coming home. He rests his forehead against yours as he rubs the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Stab a goblin in the eye.” He chuckles, smiling widely as he places another gentle kiss on your lips.

Taglist: @littlexdeaths @babygorewhore @eddiesxangel @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @hippiegoth97 @jenniquinn @take-everything-you-can

[thecherrygod]

out of everything that i thought could be triggering for me when reading, and that i usually ignore those and tho i may feel a bit bad its never enough, i never thought reading a fanfic that sorta articulates a bit more than others about strains and dislocations and similar wounds would be the kind of thing that would make me at least take a step back from reading bc it managed to lower my blood pressure

[easy-there-leftovers]

As Cool As I Think I Am

Summary: The 5 times Spencer tries to be cool, and the 1 time he doesn't care. 

Alternatively; Spencer never thought he was cool, but he found himself wanting to be just for you. 

[a/n] Recommended to be read after, "A Question Unasked", and is a roundabout sequel to "Mixed Messages."

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! (mentored by Hotch!) reader| cw: slight spoilers for s1e04, s1e06, s1e08, s1e10, and s1e18 | description of canon-typical violence, timeframe switches because I can, and Spencer being an oblivious, lovesick idiot (can't believe this version of him survived all of this lol) | word count: 7.2k

Amazing. You had called him, “amazing” during the Arizona case and that was all that had been occupying his mind as of late. He had been called brilliant before. Been described as bright, gifted, hell, he was called a genius even. Yet that was the first time anyone had said anything positive about him.

Removed from his intellectual capabilities.

It made him think that there was more that he could offer than just his never-ending stream of knowledge and incessant rambling.

You had seen that in him.

Seen that he was 'amazing.'

But he certainly wasn’t feeling that way now.

“On SWAT we broke shots down into three steps." Spencer nodded as he listened.

"One: Front sight. Focus on the front sight, not on the target. Two: Controlled trigger press. Three: Follow through. After the shot, you come right back to the target. Now, what did you do wrong?”

He sighs with his eyes closed. “I didn't follow through.” 

“Right. You came off the target to see where you hit.”

Hotch had been observing him for the past few minutes to prepare him for his assessment tomorrow, and yet it still felt like he was making no discernable progress. 

He had memorized every trick, every form, every physics interplay that could better the ballistics of his shot and yet he still couldn't do it.

"Hotch, my firearms qualification is tomorrow morning. I barely passed my last one." He had said, putting the gun down.

He feels his unit chief gently push him aside to demonstrate and he gets in position.

"Front sight," He aims his gun.

"Trigger press," He presses down on the trigger, resulting in a gunshot to the target.

"Follow through." He finally says. Keeping his eyes forward with his finger still depressing the trigger until he holsters his gun again.

"You do those three things, you'll hit your target every time." Spencer shakes his head.

He tries to replicate the steps again, but only fails miserably.

He has been doing that. He is doing that. And yet he still keeps missing.

If this wasn't part of his job, maybe he wouldn't have cared all too much about his gun proficiency. Or lack of.

And yet it was.

And it was imperative that he learned it to keep his place on the team, but he had been losing hope.

"They're going to take away my gun."

Sensing his frustration, Hotch empathizes with him.

"Profilers aren't required to carry." He groans at that.

"Yeah, but she does and she's great at it."

God, you must've thought he was pathetic.

Aaron laughs internally at that. He knows exactly who the younger one is talking about.

He had seen the way that Spencer had been watching his 'protege,' and it didn't take being a profiler to know that he was absolutely smitten. If he hadn't known any better, he would've thought that Reid's frustrations stemmed from wanting to seem more experienced in front of you.

And Hotch saw no problem with that, at least for now. On the contrary, the two of you working together seemed to have bolstered his focus on the case. Making the team more efficient with their investigations.

He also thinks that it helped because you seemed to return Reid's sentiment, which is why he had brought you along to help him.

So when Spencer turns and sees you walk in, he blanches.

As much as he really liked your presence (you were friends, right?), he really didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you.

He does that more than enough on his own.

But it seemed like your mentor didn't care.

Hotch says your name with a greeting before excusing himself which tells Spencer that he had planned this from the start. He sighs at that. Chest feeling heavy at the pressure.

He sees you give him a polite smile, which he's come to recognize to be your way of easing him, and he returns it.

"I've heard about your progress." Spencer rolls his eyes at that.

"More like regress. I'm sorry that you have to be here." You snort at his joke but shake your head to assure him.

"I'm right where I want to be. "

His heart fills, even though he knows that not what you meant.

"Why don't you go ahead and show me how you fire that gun?"

He nods and waits for you to put on your ear muffs and goggles before he returns to his position. Calming himself down as he remembers Hotch's words.

Front sight, trigger press, follow through.

He fires three bullets and sees them all hit the whites of the target, which makes him sigh for the umpteenth time.

He puts the gun down and lowers his ear muffs to look at you. Seemingly deep in thought, chin resting on your hand, with eyes travelling slowly up and down his form. Observing.

Scrutinizing.

Assessing.

He can't help but feel naked under your gaze.

He always knew you were smart. The cases you've helped solve were more than proof of just that, but he knew that even you couldn't solve the mystery that was his aim.

He couldn't expect that of you. He relies on you so often already.

He briefly wonders how there's such a different between you and him. You joined the same year, joined the same unit, and worked with the same people on the same cases. How was it that you seemed calmer, cooler, and more prepared for anything more than he ever was?

Spencer firmly believes that intelligence cannot be quantified. And if anyone ever doubted him, he would just point at you and say that you had him beat everywhere despite what any number might have to say otherwise.

Case and point. you had been talking to him about something very important and thoughtful and he had been zoning out the entire time.

"I um,–– what?"

You shake your head and gesture to his gun once more. "Show me your form again."

He takes his gun hesitantly, but readies himself the same way he did earlier. The only exception being that his finger isn't on the trigger.

He hears that telltale, almost bored, 'hm' of yours before you speak again.

"Tuck your chest in."

He's read countless firearm manuals and instructions and he's never heard of that before.

"I'm sorry?"

"Tuck your chest in." You say it again, but it's still not making sense to him.

Unable to voice or even act upon his confusion, he watches as you wait with an impassive face before asking,

"Can I touch you?" He lets out a shaky, but immediate 'yes' and you move to stand beside him.

Given your calm and nonchalant demeanor, he anticipates a more impersonal touch. For lack of a better word. He expects a shove. Maybe a push, to correct him into the right place.

So when your hand comes to softly rest on his stomach, fingers splaying across the expanse of his undefined abdominal muscles, he feels his breath hitch. Upper body slightly crumpling in on himself as he does.

He's surprised he hasn't dropped his gun.

"Dr. Reid,"

He's also surprised that his heart hasn't stopped. With how you said his name, and how close you are– he can already feel your soft breath gracing his ear–

"You're an autodidact, aren't you?"

A self-taught person, he thinks.

"I–– I am." Curse his shaky voice.

"You know, there are some things that can't be learned by just reading textbooks and looking at diagrams."

He feels you tap his stomach and he suddenly feels hot.

"Feel this?" He feels you engulfing his senses, that's for sure. But he nods slowly.

"Remember it. Your center of gravity is different from the subjects in those graphics. So the form you need to take is likewise different."

And just like that, all too quick for his liking, you move away. Hand leaving him just like whatever depraved thought might've been running around his head.

He hesitantly looks back at you, and you gesture to his gun again. Noticing how your free hand is resting on the gun in your holster.

A Glock 19, he remembers.

"Go ahead and shoot like that now."

He does, in the same way that he's compelled to follow your voice like always–

Front sight, trigger press, follow through.

And fires three shots.

To his surprise, he manages to shoot the target's chest. Not quite centered, he admits, but its a vast improvement from his previous attempts.

"I– I did it." He feels the disbelief on his face when he looks at you again. He's expecting you to look just as shocked as he does. After all, you saw just how egregious his aim was. So it surprises him when he turns and is greeted instead with the small smile on your face.

Not the same polite smile that you usually give when you're at work, no. It was a soft, genuine smile, or so he thinks.

"I never doubted your capabilities, Dr. Reid."

He beams under your praise. Blooming like a flower under the warm radiance of the Sun. Once again subject to that brain-freezing sensation from a few weeks ago.

If he just remembers everything you told him today, which wasn't a lot, he theoretically should pass his firearm qualifications with no problem.

And maybe, just maybe, he'll get to see you smile at him again.

After all, he had always wanted for you to look at him. Actually look at him.

Maybe if he passes his test this time, you will.

----

The following day, he doesn’t pass his test.

And he is much more embarrassed now than he ever was before. 

He returns to the bullpen with his head down. Already expecting everyone to know of his failure.

He really didn't want to see if you were one of the ones that had been looking at him.

What he doesn't see is that you were.

But you weren't disappointed at all. You wanted nothing more than to reassure him. To tell him that you could always help him again, and that you didn't mind the extra work if it weren't for the stares that you had been getting back.

Seemingly turning your what-would've-been act of friendship and care into an expectation and responsibility.

"Make a wish!"

"Come on, man. Blow, baby, blow!"

"I thought you were full of hot air, Reid."

"They're trick candles, Spence, okay? They–– They're going to come back on every time."

While Spencer is glad that he’s spending his birthday with actual people, there's one in particular that he's missing.

He also feels sort of embarrassed that he's having a full-on birthday at his workplace. Though he is very thankful that his friends care about him enough to do this.

"Hope you like chocolate." JJ says with a laugh and he is only now recognizing the cake. Previously too caught up in blowing out the undying flames to even notice the festive dessert that supported them.

"Where's the cake from?" The blonde only gives him a look that he can't quite understand, but he is immediately distracted when he feels a draft from where Hotch passes by him.

He looks in the direction he came from and lo and behold, he found the very person he was missing.

He gets up, wanting to at least get a greeting from you, but he's interrupted by Gideon asking him something before he can even try.

"You having fun?"

He knows that he's asking him, but he can also see how his eyes aren't quite addressing him back. Instead, looking up a few inches above him.

He gives a tight lip smile when he realizes just what he's looking at.

God, he felt pathetic.

“Yes, definitely. I am definitely– having fun.” 

"Make a wish?" He asks another question and that’s when Spencer sees what he's doing now.

Ever since he first exhibited signs of interest in you, he knew that his mentor would be the first to clock them. He couldn't even hide it if he tried. If there was anyone on the team that he knew would figure it out this quick, it would've been him.

He expected it.

What he didn't expect was for Gideon to show disapproval for it.

For you.

Back during the Arizona case, he remembers how Gideon had interrupted you when you were explaining something. And that's when he realized you were going to have a hard time.

You were going to have a hard time because of his own rapidly growing interest.

Because he froze when you said one nice thing about him, then proceeded to wow him with your observational skills.

He didn't want Gideon to think that you were being a distraction to him, so he instead chose to show just how well the two of you had worked together. Even going as far as to double down and reiterate your statements to convince him of that.

And it seemed to have worked, but now he wasn't so sure.

"Can I take this hat off?"

He wanted nothing more than to do just that before you notice him, but his mentor just shook his head.

"I wouldn't."

He doesn't know it's because Gideon knew you found it cute.

By the time that he notices the elder doesn't really care about the conversation anymore, probably too distracted by the TV behind him, his gaze finally focuses on you.

The very person that he had intended to talk to.

The one he intended to talk the entire time before he got sidetracked.

You still hadn't turned to look at him though, or make an attempt to greet him. Not even a laugh to mock him for the huge, 'Happy Birthday' hat that sat on his head to make him look like a dunce!

Instead, you were staring at something. Or rather, someone.

He turns his head to look just where you were and there he sees his unit chief, your mentor, on the receiving end of your intense gaze.

Just like always.

He shakes his head and decides to just go talk to you, but he is once again interrupted. This time by Hotch with a solemn expression on his face.

“Sorry guys. Party’s over.”

You immediately spring into action at his words, completely missing his hand that was just about to come up to wave at you. He tightens his lips into a thin smile.

Spencer's starting to doubt Morgan and Elle's words.

–––––––––––––

The sentiment is rectified when he finally receives the one thing he had been looking forward to on his birthday, and it wasn't the gift.

Not even the greeting.

It was being able to be in your presence. Being able to spend time with you. The you that wasn't so stressed or strict about work, or the case, or your boss.

It was just him and you. You and him. And the scarf that seemed to warm him just as much as his heart warmed at the sight of your smiling face.

God, what he would do to have this with you forever.

Spencer is well aware that likes you.

Hell, even the rest of team knows it by now, but he's starting to fear that his unconscious mind is more aware of that than his conscious one.

Case and point, he had been having dreams.

Nightmares, actually.

Nightmares that he can't help but think will happen if he takes his eyes off of you for even a second.

Morgan had asked him earlier when he was making coffee if something was causing him to lose sleep. If you had been causing him to lose sleep, he had asked with a teasing smirk.

And while normally he would've flushed and stumbled at his implication that a night of you had been keeping him up, he admits to what's been plaguing his mind.

Naturally, he doesn't tell him the full nature of his night terrors. But his friend doesn't need him to. Not with the way that his eyes try to find yours every chance he gets, focus going in and out of the conversation like an adjusting lens.

Spencer fears that one day, no matter how strong or smart or clever you are, it's his negligence that'll place you on the receiving end of a killer's weapon.

And that there's nothing that he can do to stop them from landing the finishing blow.

He knows that it's not rational, but he also knows that dreams are rarely, if not never, rational. Studies show that around seventy to eighty-percent of dreams contain bizarre or irrational elements. This included unusual settings, impossible scenarios, and illogical developments to be featured in the unconscious brain.

Doesn't mean that he's alright with seeing it so often, though.

What's worse is that he knows that it can very much happen during the BAU cases. And that he can't even prepare himself for that scenario.

He's practically deadweight on the field with his still erratic aim and bambi legs, he's surprised you aren't sick of him yet.

He laughs a bit at the thought. Clutching a portion of his scarf—the only thing that has been keeping the nightmares at bay— as he promises himself that he won't leave your side.

Especially not in the confounding forest of McAllister, Virginia.

Which is why he's stuck in his current position.

“Dr. Reid, I need you to check back downhill and see if the deputies have returned.” He looks at you incredulously.

“What? No! I can’t leave you here– ” 

He doesn't know what exactly you found in the abandoned house, but he knew that it wasn't wise to leave you with no one but a high schooler.

You might think he's not all that different from the kid, but he's at least trained to be an FBI agent.

“We need the rest of the sheriffs and the crime scene team here.”

You looked dead into his eyes, yet he still didn't relent. No matter how reasonable your request was.

In any other situation, he might've thought you were cool. That you were handling the situation like a natural, and that you were very responsible for taking charge when he was there with his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

But he didn't want to leave you. Not when you looked like you've just seen a ghost.

He grasped your shoulders, firmly but gently, and practically begged for you to come with him.

Stating that what you were feeling was a completely normal physiological response. That your body was sending neropinephrine to your brain to help regulate the stress and compensate for whatever was happening inside of you and that it would be safer to stay together––

But when he sees you ice him out– concealing all remaining traces of shock or fear or worry– he freezes.

His eyes raked across your features, biding his time. Committing every micro-reaction, every hair out of place, every faux-calm movement of your eyes before he had to let you go with a nod. Leaving hurriedly to find anyone that can help and constantly looking back at you to assure his consciousness that you were fine, and that you would be fine.

When he saw that the other sheriff wasn't there yet, much less anyone for that matter, he immediately went back. Running uphill fast to get to you.

To make sure that you were alright, that you were alive, and that no one was coming to hurt you.

Which is how he found himself here.

Gun held to his head by the very high schooler that, he thought, wouldn't have been of help if another dangerous person had shown up.

When you raised your hands and dropped your gun in surrender, he was scared of what would happen to you both if he didn't act quick.

But he was even more scared of what could happen to you if he doesn't talk his way out.

Fast.

So that's what he did.

––––––––––

He didn't get to check on you, he realizes.

He knew you were able to knock the kid out, he was there when he helped you distract him, but he must’ve been wheezing because he was the first one to get ushered out and checked on.

He wants to tell them to check on you. That you had landed pretty badly when the unsub was able to push you back, but he can hardly even hear his own thoughts.

The siren of the police car, the medic talking to him, the rest of the team discussing the case's outcome, and his own heart in his ears were simply too much for him.

By the time that things had settled down, he notices that you still aren't there with him. He worries and whips his head around wildly before his eyes find yours already looking at him.

Doing so with an expression of regret or grief etched onto your face.

He sighs in relief, and gives you the best smile he can give to assure you that he's okay despite having been worried sick.

He needed you to know that he was fine. That it wasn’t your fault. That he was glad you're okay too.

That he was so impressed with what you had done despite the circumstances, and that you had handled the situation way better than he knew anyone on the team ever could.

So when you seem to turn away from him, he briefly wonders if something was actually wrong.

He tries to look back on what might've happened. Wonders if there's something he didn't see when he came back, or when he was away––

And that's when he realizes something.

Could he have put you in more danger when he came back to check on you? That he had accidentally sabotaged your takedown?

He sighs. He must've looked so pathetic in front of you getting grabbed like that–– but he's not sorry.

He had been doing that for your safety and for his own peace of mind–– he wasn't going to apologize for caring about you.

He'll make it up to you somehow.

The next time you go on another case together, which you two inevitably will, he'll make it up to you.

That, he promises.

He actually doesn't get to work with you again. So he decides that he can make it up to you by narrowing down the unsub's identity.

In fact, he hasn't seen you at all since the team first arrived at the crime scene.

You had been working with Hotch and Morgan on more field operations, leaving him with Elle and Penelope doing background checks on possible suspects. And while he wasn't with you, he'd like to think that he's still enjoying the company.

Well, that's what he would like to think.

He has no problems working with Elle. She was a nice colleague that seemed to occasionally humor his rants and got the job done quickly. And Penelope was someone that the both of you really got along with. Occasionally having this back and forth unique to the three of you.

But they weren't you.

Still. What he thought about you can wait later. He still has to think about his escape route if the two break out into a fight.

Right now, the three of them had staked out one Michael Russo who they anticipated would call his hitman, the suspected Unsub. They were hoping to get a name from what they could pick up from his end of the call, and they did.

Problem was,

"Russo's got eleven associates named Vincent." Spencer raised his brows at that.

Vincent is a name of Latin origins. He shouldn't be surprised that the mob had a handful of people with that name, but it was kind of too on the nose at this point.

"Oh, make that ten. Vincent Cellito died last summer. But here's something––Vincent Sartori."

He really wants to find this guy, so he chooses to keep looking through the list. Ignoring the growing tension between the two girls.

"Currently doing six at Dannemora for racketeering."

Spencer then speaks up again, "How about this Perotta? There's not much on him."

Garcia makes quick work to pull up what seemed to be deleted records and that's where they find something interesting.

"Alcohol addiction at 14, violent outbursts, assaults,–– Once threw a Molotov cocktail at someone sitting in their car." She can't believe what she's reading.

"Several notations for aggression," He adds, but this is where he sees something truly wrong.

"He once scheduled a visit to an infirmary to gain access to a–– boy who looked at him for too long?"

He really didn't want to meet this guy.

"No fear, no remorse, quick temper. And he was smart enough to stay off the radar as an adult," Elle interprets. "Paranoid personality. Could be our guy."

And he really didn't want you to meet him either.

All the evidence is stacking up against him though, so you just might have to. He just wished that nothing bad would happen when you did.

––––––––––

While right now they weren't sure if he was the unsub, he was definitely someone who fit their profile. He saw some LEO's bring in a guy who had essentially been cuffed at every limb, accompanied by Hotch and Gideon, but he had yet to see the others.

He sees Morgan, who is walking alongside Elle (she went to see what all the commotion was about) but with who he sees next, he feels his stomach drop. Heart rate spiking in contrast to an all time high that he's practically sure he has tachycardia.

"What happened to you!?"

He got up from his seat to run over but you just shake your head.

You had come back with your clothes and hair in disarray, a bleeding nose, and a a busted lip. A complete disparity to the normally clean-cut and professional look that you had strived to maintain.

Even when you had been tackled to the ground a few cases back, the damage wasn't nearly as bad as this.

It's Derek that answers his question for him though.

"Perotta hit your girl up in the head, Reid." He chooses to ignore the joke. Too worried as he tries to check on your head but you just softly squeeze his hands to reassure him before you push them away.

Still not looking at him as you finally speak.

"It wasn't that bad. He hesitated. It could've been worse."

He doesn't like your answer.

If you had just been hit in the head and yet your nose is bleeding, that was a clear sign of a concussion. And the cut on your lip had to be from a fall. On asphalt or onto another material, it didn't matter to him since both are just as bad.

As he expresses that, you just tell him to drop it and then move away from him.

Before he can say more however, Hotch comes back into the room with his usually stern expression. A bit of worry lacing his tone, Spencer notes, as he orders you.

"Go home."

He's staring you down, but it seemed you had a lot more to say to that.

"Sir Hotchner, I would be of much more use in here. It is imperative that all available resources are focused on the retrieval of James Baker." He sighs because you're right, but that doesn't seem enough to satisfy you.

The boy-genius hates it when you use reason to get your way.

"Fine. Help Reid and the others with the evidence. We can narrow down his area of operation from there. They should be arriving soon."

You shake your head adamantly. "Sir, I can handle the interrogation--"

"No you can't!"

Spencer surprises himself with his outburst, but you don't even turn to look at him.

It's Hotch that gives him a very pointed stare though before continuing,

"Reid is right, agent. We'll handle the interrogation, so please busy yourself here." He says it with a finality that is indicative of his departure but you stop him one last time. Hand going up to rest on your mentor's collar.

He sees you gesture to your own, and Spencer hears an intention in your voice that he can't quite understand.

"Let's not give him a weapon, sir. He's pretty strong."

He sees his boss nod, and he takes off his tie. Putting the cloth into your awaiting hand, and you grip it out of instinct.

Reid zones out as he sees this interaction in disbelief. Did you normally touch the others like this?

You had completely brushed off his concern, not even looking at him. And yet when it was your unit chief that told you to do so, you had simply followed?

He thought he was starting to become an exception to you, but had he been reading the signs wrong? It could very much be a possibility as he was never good at doing so.

Even later when he had been sifting through the bags from the suspect's van, you still didn't respond to him. Even going as far as to ignoring Penelope's offer to watch the tapes they had found in Perotta's van. Shaking your head, 'no' with a faraway look in your eyes.

Just what had exactly happened while he wasn't by your side?

At this point, Spencer’s convinced that you would never like him.

If not for you having eyes on literally anyone else but him, then definitely because he had disappointed you. Desecrated the honor that came with being an FBI agent.

Just because he had been distracted.

A whirlwind of emotions had been flurrying inside him since the very beginning of this case, but he swears that he had never meant for this.

He doesn't even remember how it happened. Which baffled him, given his memory. But he thinks it's because he couldn't have cared less about the past few hours.

He had been stuck babysitting Lila only because you had told him so. Entrusted him with her because you thought that he was the best person to guard her, to comfort her.

He didn’t know it was because you had a feeling he’d be safer by her side.

And some part of him was flattered that you had said all this about him. Especially when all Lila would hear from him were endless praises of your name, of your work, and your caring nature.

But another part of him felt ignored. Pushed aside.

He doesn't know when it had happened, but Hotch had stopped pairing you together some cases ago. Saying something about you needing physical training, though he sincerely doubted that.

He thought that things were going well between you two. He had just been trying to find the perfect window where you would see him in a good enough light.

A good enough light that would make you say 'yes' to going on a date with him.

He didn't even care that the pretty blonde was interested in him. He only agreed because you stressed her safety more than any other target thus far. But the attention that she was giving him?

That was all that he wanted from you.

All he'd been wanting for months.

And when he had kissed her, all he could think about was you. How it would've felt if it was you in his arms, how you would react if it had been you that he was touching.

But then immediately after, how you would react to him kissing another girl.

God, he was pathetic.

He knew that you had been having a hard time lately. And he also knew that it had a lot to do with your work, how he did his, and his safety. That was all you ever stressed about when you were with him.

If he was safe.

You'd think he'd learn that by now, but he hasn't. Which is why even when he knew all this, his heart still ached as he sees you cry into Morgan's arms. Sobbing like no tomorrow. All because of something he did.

All because he took all your hard work, that had been focused on keeping him alive, and essentially throwing it right back at your face.

His negligence did that.

And he supposes that now, he can't do anything to get into your good graces anymore. Not when Derek Morgan seemed to better at doing his job as a federal agent, and his job as your friend.

When he finally gets changed into dry clothes and enters Lila's house, he doesn't miss the way that you turn from him. He also doesn't miss the glare the other agent was giving him. Nor the careful hand that had been rubbing up and down your arm.

Something that he wished he could've been doing instead.

––––––––––

God, he wanted to be anywhere but here, considering this is where it all went downhill.

"Did you give Lila Archer a collage?" Gideon had started the interrogation, so even if he did want to leave, he couldn't.

"What?"

"There's a photographic collage above Lila Archer's sofa. She says you gave it to her."

But the faster that they could get this done, the faster he could apologize to you.

"So? I didn't make the damn thing." Parker had laughed out, clearly not comprehending the severity of the situation.

"So you just happened to give her a work of art containing most of her life in it?" Spencer pushed but was surprised to see his ex-classmate seemingly have no recollection of the situation at all.

Something was wrong.

If it wasn't him, then who––?

"I––no, no. Look, I lied. I just wanted her to like me. I met her here, and she was a fan of art. Someone gave me the piece to give to her, but I told her it was from me."

It can't be––

"I said I found it, and I thought she'd love it."

"And who gave it to you?" Morgan had finally asked.

"Her name's Maggie Lowe. She uh––She works on Lila's show."

When Spencer hears this, he immediately goes to call you on his phone. Maggie Lowe had gone to Juilliard with Lila and was the production assistant that he swore he saw go in and out of her trailer.

If he wasn't so distracted, he would've fucking noticed that.

But his phone doesn't even ring for a few moments before the call is declined.

What the fuck was happening?

Before he could ask anyone else, he heard Derek speak up.

“Sweet girl, listen to me. We have a name, and it’s ‘Maggie Lowe.’ We’re on our wa—" Spencer tries to talk to you through Morgan's phone, but is knocked off balance when the man turns around in shock.

"Christ man—we're on our way back over there, okay? Stay put and we’ll let Hotch and JJ know.” 

"Let me talk to her!" He practically begs, but before anyone could even understand what he was saying, the call is ended from your side.

"Reid, what the hell were you trying to do?"

He's shocked at his own actions too, but that's not what's on his mind right now.

"She dropped my call but she answered yours? And since when did you start calling her that?"

He knew it wasn't fair, especially after what he had done, but just when did you and him happen?

"Since you started being a dumbass. Get over yourself, kid."

Everyone then started making their way to the two SUV's parked outside, but Spencer took the one that Morgan was driving.

He wasn't done with this conversation.

He tries to call you again, but this time, it looks like the line is busy. What was going on, where were you? He tries Lila's phone, even though he's sure she won't pick up and nothing either.

He has half a mind to ask Morgan to call you, in case you were just being petty and ignoring him, but he feels his phone vibrate. He suddenly hears his phone ring, and he hurriedly answers without checking the caller ID.

Hoping that it would be you on the other hand as he called out your name.

"Nope, sorry hon, it's me." It was Garcia's voice, but it sounded like she was shaking. Sensing the urgency in her voice, he instinctively puts his phone on speaker.

"Reid, I need you to listen to me very carefully— I've already alerted officials in the area, but your unsub? Is in Lila Archer's house."

You can't keep doing this, he thinks. You can't keep scaring him like this, because he's starting to feel so sick.

He looks to his friend in the driver's seat and sees him nod when they make eye contact. Speeding up as they thank Penelope before she ended the call.

At this point, he could care less with how pathetic he might've looked. No longer caring about how uncool you thought he was, or whatever might've been going on between you and Morgan, or if you still had a crush on your boss— none of that.

They had left you behind with Lila and no one else.

Spencer had always feared that one day, no matter how strong or smart or clever you are, it's his negligence that'll place you on the receiving end of a killer's weapon. And that there's nothing that he can do to stop them from landing the finishing blow.

If the reason you were alone and held captive by some psychotic shooter was because he had pissed you off enough to even dismiss his help?

He might never forgive himself for it.

When they arrive, he immediately gets out of the car. Ready to run in and ambush Maggie by himself if he has to when Lila runs into his arms. Holding a gun in her hand as if it were a bomb.

A Glock 19 that he's seen you use since his first official cases on the team.

He notices Morgan, Elle, and Gideon were already out, but Hotch and JJ have still yet to arrive.

He knows that he should wait until further instructions. That there wasn't a protocol for this specific situation. Or maybe there was, but his IQ of 187 had always been slashed down to 60 whenever you were involved.

When he hears a gun fire from inside the house, he's the first one that starts running.

He's thankful that he wasn't alone when he did though.

By the time that Maggie had been apprehended, you were already well on your way to the nearest hospital. According to the clock from inside your room, and the news report that had been playing, a full twelve hours at the very least had passed since then.

You tried to remember what had happened. Tried to remember how you screamed for help once you had subdued her. How she shot you when you tackled her.

Probably with the intention to kill you, then herself had you not talked her out of it.

You groan as you feel the blooming pain in your side. Probably from the GSW that you're going to have to note in your action report.

And then you remembered how you realized what you felt for Spencer and the rest of the team.

You shake your head despondently.

When you look back on every situation where you had essentially put yourself on the line for his sake, you notice that you had really been doing that out of your own volition.

That you had been doing it because you didn't want him getting hurt.

You just didn't like that the the team was turning it into some sort of responsibility.

And sure. Maybe the others were complicit in pairing you up, or guilty for giving you odd looks, but they probably wouldn't have done that if it wasn't something you were already going to do.

God, you felt so pathetic.

You don't think you can handle looking at Spencer now. Not after your existential crisis, and certainly not after what you said before he left.

But luck has a way, so it seems, to constantly elude you.

You note this as you see the very man that you had been thinking of slowly opening the door and perking up when he sees your eyes on him.

Well, as perked up as he could be. Given the circumstances.

"How uh—, How are you? A-Are you...okay?"

You take in how he looks when he asks. Dark rings encircling his eyes, (he had been up all night waiting for you), usually neat hair in a mess (he had been running his hands through them nonstop), and shirt all crumpled from being hunched over for so long (a different one, because he just couldn't stand the vague scent on chlorine in his old one.)

Your heart sinks at the sight and you beckon him closer with your strong hand. Echoing his question.

"Are you okay, Dr. Reid?"

He lets out a shaky breath when he finally hears your soft voice again, slowly approaching you as he does. He was so worried that the last words he would hear from you would be your disappointment, but he persists.

"Can you please answer the question? I don't like it when you pretend like you're okay when you're obviously not."

His hand finds its way to trace little patterns on the back of yours. Occasionally looking up at to see if he was hurting you, before continuing when he sees that he isn't. Feeling too shy to do anything more.

You roll your eyes at the gesture. Flipping his hand to rest on the hospital bed and slipping yours on top of his. Giving it a soft squeeze.

"I could be better." You then squeeze his hand again. "Is this what you were trying to do?"

He thinks for a while, as if not really understanding your question, before nodding vigorously.

You smile at the sight but then feel your regret from a few hours ago come rushing back.

"I'm really sorry. For...everything." You don't think he knows what you're apologizing for, but you do it anyway.

If not now, when?

Spencer laughs a little at that but shakes his head. "Morgan told me about what you said. Back at Lila's. Well, more like he told everyone while we were waiting for you to wake up."

You nod. Suddenly feeling guilty for trying to make contact so you try to let go, but he only entangles your fingers once more. Intertwining them as much as he can since this is the closest that he can afford to have you right now.

He feels his lips tightening into a thin smile before he says what's been haunting him for the past few hours.

"I'm sorry that you had to deal with me for so long. I never meant to burden you like that or make your job harder."

"No, Spencer please," you start, rubbing the only part of his hand that you could reach with your thumb.

"You were never a burden. I was just—caught up in a bunch of things."

He doesn't miss how your usual eloquence evades you. Which gives him a bit of an idea as to how unscripted and vulnerable you were being with him right now.

And as much as he should hate this for you, he'd love it if you would learn to be a bit more vulnerable in front of him. Even if it was a departure from your usually starched blazers, pressed blouses, and clean-cut exterior.

He still thought you were cool just like this.

"Have I ever told you that I thought you were really cool?" You weakly snort at that.

"If by 'cool,' you mean constantly worrying about how everything could go wrong, then yeah. I'm super cool."

He shakes his head at that, but it looked like you weren't done.

"I think you looked cooler, though. Especially when you were next to the pool trying to dry your gun. You looked like a wet rat."

He groans at the mention but you continue to tease him.

"Hey, you were a handsome wet rat. Still a rat, but... you know. From Vegas. Arguably not as bad as the ones from New York. Now though, you're a handsome dry rat."

Now that, he just wines at. You weren't being fair.

How could you make him go through all this and then say that?

Did you know what kind of effect you have on him?

The two of you continue to sling back jokes at the other, a common thing you used to do before things went south. And just enjoying each other's presence.

Holding his hand as you absentmindedly started massaging it. He didn't even notice how his hand had been shaking since the moment you first held onto it.

He was so so glad you were alive. That you were still here, with him. And there's no place he would rather be than where you were.

"So. How about you start telling me what you've been up to while I've been knocked out, hm? What have you learned, genius?"

He's learned a quite a lot, while you were away.

He learned that he should probably encourage you to have more breaks. Learned that you should both talk to each other, and everyone, a bit more. And he learned that you two weren't so different after all.

He's also learned how much he really liked your smile, your laugh, your soft touch, and the way that his name fell from your lips.

He doesn't tell you any of this, however.

Opting to instead tell you about the numerous facts he's picked up during the case, and how much he hated Hollywood.

[a/n] And with that, this marks the end of this specific timeline! I've honestly loved writing with this reader's specific personality in mind, and I'm looking forward to how she'll mellow out when she learns to be more honest.

I have a few ideas for one shots regarding this specific dynamic, but if you enjoyed it as much as I did, please tell me what you thought about this short series! And if you have any idea on what you'd like to see next from these dumbasses, send an ask my way!

Thank you so much for liking them thus far.

Like my work? Consider tipping me!!

[brokenmenswhore]

the sink | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: modern!aegon x fem!reader

summary (i am so shit at writing summaries): at a party, y/n sees aegon in a compromising position

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), choking, drinking, rough sex, aegon is a lil mean <3

────── ☾ ──────

Parties were never really your scene. You told your best friend, Heleana, that you didn’t really want to go, but she convinced you that you were wasting your chance at university experiences by sitting in your dorm, and she was right. You wouldn’t be in university forever, and you could only truly live right now.

Her brother, Aegon, was campus-renowned for his parties. Heleana & Aegon lived in a rather large mansion off-campus, seeing no need to move onsite and leave such a lavish place, and it was close enough to drive.

You and Aegon never got along. He was arrogant, a playboy, and had no care for his studies or his sister. All he wanted to do was fuck about and drink, and he didn’t like that you gave him attitude whenever he said something particularly ghastly, but you didn’t care. You didn’t like him and you didn’t care if he knew it. You could handle your own with him, and everything he did annoyed you.

You personally hated driving to Heleana’s house. The roundabout driveway only allowed a certain number of cars, and had no definitive parking spaces. It was a free for all, as you told her the second you walked through the door.

“Oh hush, I’m just glad you came,” Heleana smiled, “come! Drinks are in the kitchen.”

Heleana’s house never failed to astound you. You had been here several times, having been close with Heleana for a few years, and still, you didn’t know which room was which. If she asked you to retrieve anything from a specific room upstairs, you’d end up lost.

You followed suit, downing a good portion of a beer the second it was handed to you.

“Eager, are we?” Heleana laughed.

“Oh come on!” you retorted, “you said it yourself, I never get out. Well, I’m out, and I’m not gonna waste it!”

Heleana sipped her beer and giggled at your enthusiasm. “Maybe you should channel that energy into, I don’t know, a boy?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “And why would I do that?”

“You’ve been so wound up and stressed from exams lately, I just think you could use an outlet! Sue me.”

You laughed, not responding as a method of moving on from the subject.

“Fine,” Heleana broke the silence, “but you’re dancing with me.”

“No, I-“

“You’re dancing!”

With that, Heleana pulled you into the living room, forcing you to dance with her. You didn’t mind too much, eventually having fun with the feeling of dancing and the slight buzz in your brain. After a few hours of dancing and mingling, you felt your energy and social battery depleting. Heleana, ever so attentive, noticed.

“Why don’t you go get some air?” she asked.

“There’s a million people outside, Hel,” you responded, “I honestly don’t think it would make a difference.”

“Why don’t you head up to my room then? No one is allowed upstairs. Well, except Aegon, because he lives here, but he’s probably out by the pool drunk or something.”

You smiled at her. “Thanks, Hel.”

You made your way up the stairs, quickly remembering that you had absolutely no idea where you were going. You climbed back down a few steps, looking over the banister to try to find Heleana so you could ask her which room was hers again, but it was to no avail. It would be impossible to find her in this crowd.

I’ve been here a thousand times, you thought, I can find my way to her room, it really can’t be that hard, and I’m really not that drunk.

You turned down the first hallway you spotted, trying to retrace your steps from the last few times you’d been in the house, still denying any sense of drunkenness you felt. You decided on a door you thought may be right, and opened it.

It was not Heleana’s room.

Aegon had his face buried in between a girl’s legs, her body seated on the bathroom sink as he kneeled on the floor, her fingers in his hair. You couldn’t move for a second, completely bewildered by the sight in front of you, as the girl let out a particularly filthy moan. You caught yourself and turned to leave, but right when you clicked the door shut, it swung open again.

“What the fuck are you- oh, it’s just you. Fucks sake, I thought she had a boyfriend that was catching us or something. Don’t scare me like that, Y/N,” Aegon said, chin glistening with wetness.

“That’s very ethical of you, sleeping with someone you know is taken,” you replied, your distaste for him evident in your tone, “I was just looking for Heleana’s room. Sorry.”

“On the other side of the house?”

You looked at Aegon confused, signaling to him that you genuinely had no idea you were in the wrong place.

“Tell me, Y/N,” he started, “have you always looked that fucking good in black?”

Your eyes widened. You had no idea what to say, and based on his breath, he was pretty drunk.

“I- I don’t- what?”

Aegon stepped closer to you, “did you enjoy the show, at least?”

He was a bit too close for a comfortable conversation, and you refused to be embarrassed by Aegon Targaryen of all people. “Isn’t she still in there? Least you could do is finish her off.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

“I don’t have time for this, Aegon,” you sighed, beginning to walk away, but he trapped you in between his body and the wall with his arm.

“Maybe I would be more eager to get back in there if she looked half as good as you do right now.”

“Don’t piss me off,” you spat, “I’m really not in the mood for your shit.”

Aegon pouted. “My ‘shit’ is part of my charm.”

“What charm?” you bounced back.

“You don’t think I’m charming? Wow, Y/N, I’m hurt. Like, genuinely, that cut down to my soul.”

“Aegon, you’re drunk. Now are you just gonna hold me hostage against this wall forever or are you gonna let me leave?”

Aegon looked at you, intently, as if contemplating his options.

“You really want me to go back in there?”

You looked up at him, frustrated and confused. “Why the hell would I care what you do?”

Aegon looked at you for a brief moment before nodding his head, removing his arm from the wall and gesturing you away.

“Thank you,” you said, turning your back to him and walking away.

Heleana reached the top of the staircase at that very moment. “Hey!” she called out, “I was just coming to check in on you.”

“I got lost,” you admitted.

“My god, Y/N,” she laughed, taking your hand and guiding you to her bedroom.

You and Heleana sat on her bed, sobering up and watching movies for a few hours.

“Would you be okay if I crashed here?” you asked her, “I still feel like shit.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “I keep an extra toothbrush in the hallway bathroom just in case.”

“Thank you. I just wish I thought of this earlier, I’d be more prepared.”

“Give me a minute,” Heleana said, leaving you alone in her bedroom.

She returned a few minutes later with a tee shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

“What the fuck do you want me to do with those?” you asked.

“Aemond is away with his friends somewhere in Europe right now, so he won’t miss them.”

“I’m not wearing your brother’s clothes.”

“Oh, whatever! He’s a giant, they’ll be plenty baggy and comfortable. Plus, he’s not Aegon, you can actually trust that his clothes get washed properly.”

You sighed. You didn’t want to spend the night in what you had on, and no one would ever know you took his clothes anyway. “Fine, but you’re putting them back exactly the way you found them in the morning.”

“Deal!” Heleana smiled, jumping back on the bed as you changed.

The night winded down, and by around three in the morning, Heleana was fast asleep. You took the opportunity to run to the bathroom and get ready for bed.

You stood in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth and then your hair until all the knots were out. Mid-brush, the bathroom door was violently swung open.

“SHIT! For fucks sake,” Aegon almost screamed, placing a hand over his heart to calm down the startled beating, “what the fuck are you still doing here?”

“Staying over, not that it’s your business.”

Aegon rubbed his eyes as if he just woke up and was adjusting to the light, but you could tell he’d not yet gone to sleep. He scanned you up and down. “Are you wearing my brother’s clothes?” he asked.

You sighed, continuing your routine and not giving him any glances. “Shut up, I didn’t bring any clothes.”

“So you stole my brother’s?”

You turned to him, annoyed that he was still talking to you. “technically your sister stole them for me. I didn’t bring any of my own, and I can’t fit into Heleana’s. Why am I even telling you this? You don’t care and I don’t like you.”

Aegon’s bottom lip jutted out as he inched closer to you, “now why don’t you like me?”

You put the brush down in defeat. “Aegon, it’s three in the morning.”

“And?”

You huffed, “and it’s too late for me to have to deal with you.”

Aegon just looked at you. You waited for him to say or do anything, and when you realized he had no intention of moving, you started to make your way out of the bathroom. That’s when Aegon grabbed you by your waist and slammed you onto the bathroom sink.

“What the fuck, Aegon? Let me down,” you said, trying not to lose your temper as he held you down on the sink.

“You know I asked you a question earlier,” he spoke, voice low and lips close to yours, “and you never answered it.”

“Aegon, I don’t care, let me down.”

“Did you enjoy the show?”

You met his eyes. “The show that I watched for 3 seconds before leaving? The show I didn’t even try to watch, but saw accidentally? Yes, Aegon, how entertaining it was briefly watching you perpetuate cheating.”

“Would it kill you to just be nice to me?”

The question caught you off guard, and admittedly struck a nerve in your heart. He sounded so sincere, so genuine, like he wasn’t trying to play a game or garner a reaction. He truly wanted to know why you were always so sharp with him.

Thinking about it, he had never done anything personally to you. He never hurt anyone, except maybe the girls he never called in the morning, he just didn’t exhibit behavior that you ever would, but none of it was malicious. He just came off like a cocky and overly confident rich kid, but he never knew how to be anything else.

“You’re right,” you said, surprising Aegon, “I’m sorry, I know I can be really pissy with you. I don’t want to be mean to you, you’re just so good at getting under my skin. Also, you’ve ghosted three of my friends, but still, I’m sorry.”

Aegon stared into your eyes for what felt like an eternity.

“You don’t like me because I’ve ghosted your friends?”

“No, Aegon, that’s not the poin-“ you bowed your head, “you’re impossible.”

“So tell me why you don’t like me.”

“I don’t know.”

“You do know.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t!” you exclaimed, “I don’t even actually hate you!”

Aegon smiled, “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” You were beginning to get frustrated.

“You like me.”

You scoffed. “Quite the contrary, no offense.”

Aegon tsked, “no no no, I think you like me. I think you like me like me. I think you wish you were sitting in this exact spot a few hours ago when you walked into the ‘wrong room.’”

You threw your head back, “I really was looking for Heleana’s room!”

“Admit it,” he said.

“There’s nothing to admit, you narcissist.”

Suddenly his demeanor changed. He got even closer to you, placing his torso in between your legs, lips almost touching yours. “Admit. It.”

It was a demand, not a request. His eyes were dark and his tone was lower than you’d ever heard it.

“Or what?”

Aegon growled. “or I’ll fuck it out of you.”

Your breathing stuttered.

You were undeniably attracted to him. You always had been, he was gorgeous. Part of your hatred came from jealousy when you would see him with other girls, but you also knew he was a player and fucked around, so you tried your best to turn it off by just fighting him at every turn. However, now, it was early in the morning and late at night all at once, both of your buzzes had faded, and your emotions were overflowing.

“So do it.”

Aegon slammed his lips onto yours, enveloping you into a heated kiss, one of his hands snaking through your hair and pulling roughly until your head was forced back so he could have easier access to your neck. He sucked at a sweet spot right underneath your earlobe, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Shut up,” he demanded.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s three in the morning and my sister is home, so shut up.”

“I barely made any noise,” you retorted.

Aegon paused his assault on your neck to look at you, pulling at your hair roughly. “Stop. Talking.”

Looking into his eyes, you knew it would be better to obey than to continue your back and forth, so you did your best to stay quiet.

Aegon began to kiss lower and lower, eventually kneeling in front of you just as you had seen him before. He began tugging at the waistband of the boxer shorts you were wearing, “I can’t believe you’re wearing his fucking clothes, you could just be wearing mine.”

You giggled, and then acted like you didn’t make any noise, so as to avoid Aegon’s temper.

“Something funny?” he asked, catching it.

“You jealous or something?”

Aegon tore the boxer shorts off of you, not even telling you to lift your hips, causing you to almost fall off the sink from the force.

“Aegon!”

“Shouldn’t be wearing his clothes,” he spoke, almost more to himself than to you as he quite literally tore the tee shirt off of your body, one jagged rip in the middle of the design on the front, “you’re not fucking his.”

You looked up at him, shocked, “Aegon! What the fuck am I supposed to tell Heleana happened to this shirt? I’m clumsy, but I’m not that clumsy!”

“You could always tell her the truth,” Aegon smiled, “or better yet, tell Aemond. Make sure he knows you’re not his.”

You sighed at his jealousy. “I really don’t think he’s under the impression that I’m his, Aeg, I really just needed clothes for the night.”

Aegon’s jealousy was overshadowed by your use of a nickname. He immediately dropped back down to his knees, ripping your underwear in half just as he did the shirt.

“Aegon! I don’t have any other clothes with me!”

He slapped your thighs as a warning to open them wider, “shut up, you’ll just wear mine.”

“I really dont thi-“ your words were cut off by a sharp inhale as Aegon pressed his lips to your clit, tongue drawing circles and swirling around the bud as he looked up at you.

A pang of jealousy hit you as you remembered that he was in this exact position with someone else mere hours ago. This moment wasn’t special to him. You were just another one of his girls.

“Aeg, wait-“

Aegon immediately stopped at your protest. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, I just- I can’t do this right now.”

Aegon looked concerned. “What happened? Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said?”

You attempted to stop his train of thought before it derailed, “no! No, it isn’t you, it’s just-“

“It’s just you just saw this show with someone else?” he questioned, standing to meet your eye level.

“I really don’t just want to be a one off type of person. I’m sorry,” you said, feeling guilty for stopping.

“Hey, hey,” he said, sweetly capturing your attention, “this is not the same situation as it was earlier today. You aren’t just a random one off. I literally left that girl in here the second I saw you. The only reason I was in that situation was because I was all worked up from seeing you in that fucking dress earlier,” he admitted.

“You were not.”

He nodded his head, “did I not make it obvious enough to you when I told you you looked good in black?”

You threw your hands up, “clearly I thought you were fucking with me.”

“I wasn’t fucking with you,” he assured you, “now if you don’t mind, can I get back to actually fucking you?”

You pulled him in for a kiss before he dropped to his knees yet again, tongue immediately finding its place on your bud.

He traced a finger around your soaked hole, staring up at you as he slid one finger inside of you, watching you throw your head back and attempt to breathe through the pleasure, desperately trying not to make a noise.

Without warning, he added a second finger, pumping both in and out of you as his tongue continued to swirl and flick at your bud. Your breathing was becoming erratic, and you fought with everything in you to hold back moaning.

Aegon curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot inside of you, causing you to grip his hair and push his face closer into you. He moaned at the sensation, sending shivers up your body. You whined and whimpered as quietly as you could as he continued to work you until you started squeezing his fingers.

Before you could come, he ceased all action, standing up and meeting your eyes again. He put both fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean before giving you a wet kiss, the feeling of your slick still on his lips. The feeling nearly made him feral, deepening the kiss as he pulled his own boxers down to free his cock. Precum was already leaking from the tip at only the sight of what his fingers did to you. He used one hand to begin to stroke himself as the other held the back of your head, pressing you even harder into the desperate kiss.

You reached between your bodies, gripping his cock and moving his hand away. You began to stroke him, causing his hips to jolt and a whine to leave his lips and break the kiss.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he sighed, barely able to get the shaky sentence out.

You kissed him as a response. You lined his tip up with your entrance, looking at him and nodding up and down to signal that you were ready. Before he pushed in, you grabbed his face, saying, “I’m not a virgin, you know. You don’t have to be nice.”

Aegon growled, slamming his entire length into you without giving you time to adjust. You threw your head back and he pulled completely out before slamming into you again, each violent thrust causing your entire body to snap backward.

“Fuck,” he groaned, setting a steady pace.

You continued to whine and moan, unable to mute or quiet yourself.

“Shut up, Y/N,” Aegon warned.

“C- can’t,” was all you could get out, his cock stretching your walls at a violent rate.

“I don’t care,” he spat, almost mean, “I said shut up.”

He then snaked an arm between your bodies, rubbing circles onto your clit as he fucked you hard. Your body gave out, and you fell backward, head leaning against the mirror as Aegon pulled your hips closer to the edge of the sink so he could fuck you deeper.

“Fuck!” you cried out, completely losing any control you had over yourself.

Aegon moved his hand from your clit to your mouth, covering it and forcing you to remain quiet.

He continued to fuck you hard, your body still being roughly pushed harder into the sink and mirror with every thrust. With his hand pressed against your mouth, your head was now pressed hard against the mirror, meaning you were unable to move.

The hand that wasn’t around your mouth made it’s way to your waist, gripping you as Aegon’s thrusts became faster and faster.

He moved his hand from your mouth to your throat. “Tell me how it feels.”

You whined. “G- good, it’s- ah! It’s g-“

He squeezed your throat. “I know you can use your words better than that, angel.”

“It feels good, so good,” you forced out.

“Good girl,” Aegon praised, never moving his hand from your throat as he continued to fuck into you.

“Aeg, I-“

The nickname made him feral. He began thrusting into you at an unholy pace, both hands moving to your shoulders to keep you speared onto his cock as he pistoned in and out of you harshly.

“You gonna come?” he asked you.

“Y- yes, Aeg, I-“

“Beg me.”

You whimpered, barely able to think or speak. Apparently your silence was too long for Aegon.

“Beg. Me.”

“Please, Aeg, p-please l-let me come, Aegon, please-“

He moved a hand back in between your bodies, rubbing your clit again as your walls squeezed his cock. You nearly screamed his name as you came, his only choice to swallow your moans with his mouth, kissing you through your high, still chasing his own.

It was almost overstimulating, him still thrusting into you in desperate need of his own high as you were attempting to come down from yours.

“Aegon,” you whined.

“Mhm,” he moaned in response.

“Please come for me,” you pleaded in the most seductive voice you could manage.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he barked.

You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing his eyes to meet yours, “Aeg, fuck- please-“

That was all it took for him to come undone, unloading inside of you before pressing his forehead to yours to catch his breath.

You could fill indents in the back of your thighs from the edge of the sink. Once he calmed down and pulled out of you, he began to put his clothes back on, while you stayed seated, naked, on the sink.

“You just gonna stay there?” he quipped.

You gestured to Aemond’s ripped up clothes on the floor, “You gonna give me your clothes or what?”

[rhysazriel]

Feel My Touch [Azriel]

SUMMARY: After Azriel left you high and dry one night, he’s left with the task of coaxing you out of your subspace. (4.2k)

WARNINGS: kissing, teasing, swearing, smut, dirty talk, dom/sub relationship, unprotected sex, very brief mentions of daddy kink 

A/N: in my humble opinion, Azriel and subspace should always go hand in hand together, he is a dom!!

You’d been feeling a little soft the past couple of days. Azriel had been busy most days with gathering information against the mortal queens, leaving you to your own devices until the sun allowed the moon to shine and he loved on you a little. 

You’d been patient, to say the least, and last night he took his frustrations from the day out on you and offered no aftercare to follow.

It was something he’d done (or rather, hadn’t) a few times, but only when he had a bad day or he needed to teach you a lesson – when you’d been a bad girl. Well, you’d been a very good girl so you were awfully confused last night when Azriel fell asleep moments after slipping out of you; not offering any love or care that he usually showered you with after.

You were unable to sleep – too caught in your own head trying to figure out what you did to upset him. Did you forget to do something? Did you say something you wasn’t supposed to? You didn’t know. What you did know was that Azriel very rarely used his real dominant side unless you were in big trouble or he’d had a real bad day.

That strict rule he’d set on himself meant you’d only been in subspace once or twice before and it’d always been something to massively worry Azriel. He was used to seeing his love be this independent, badass female that didn’t let people boss you around. Not watching you mope after him with teary doe eyes and a permanent pout in your bottom lip.

But when you have one of those nights where he is ruthless and mean and doesn’t follow through with any aftercare, you’re left to coil into yourself and drown in this dark hole of submission where you feel like a tiny person that needs constant reassurance and love.  

You’d always been affectionate; you both were–Azriel more so secretly–but when you were in that turmoil state, it was worse. You’d seem like a child that leeched onto his limbs and wanted to sit in his lap while sucking on his fingers as he read a book. You never truly realised you did those things in your sub head because you seemed to disassociate from yourself and into a childlike mindframe.

The first time it happened, Azriel made the situation worse. He thought that by showering you with affection and love, he’d be able to coax you out of it. Unfortunately, it shoved you deeper into your dark hole and took almost three days to get you back to your normal state and frame of mind.

The second time it happened, he tried another approach. He was harsh and mean and demanded that you snapped out of it. It only made you coil into yourself more and for hours, all you could say was, “I’m sorry, Az. I’m sorry I was bad, please don’t hate me!” to which, Azriel’s heart broke and he coaxed you out of it again with a little more love and affection.

Maybe that was why he didn't like to delve too far into the kink very often. He much preferred you as your vibrant and independent self and if he was honest, seeing you in such a subby and insecure state had bile rising up his throat. He hated knowing that he rendered you to a helpless state outside of the bedroom. 

He’d had a long week and he knew he probably should have coddled you to his chest last night and reminded you he loved you, but he was fucking spent and when he awoke this morning to go back out again, you were still fast asleep and he didn’t want to wake you.

He hoped to come home to you lounging on the sofa with some snacks or wine waiting for him. But when he rolled home at 7:30 and kicked his shoes off at the door, he was greeted with the complete opposite. There was no warm scent of cookies wafting through the house and the sofa was bare with the cushions placed neatly; like you hadn’t sat down in hours.

Azriel made his way closer into the house with furrowed brows and a twitching nose. He could very clearly smell garlic and a cheesy hint of tomato sauces and meatballs. When he crept into the kitchen, he found you dishing up two plates of your homemade spaghetti and meatballs and popping little garlic dough balls into a side dish.

Your dining table was decorated with wax candles and two tall glasses of wine, the good cutlery put out by their placemats and Azriel was certain he could also smell a hint of caramel chocolate that you’d no doubt baked a cake from. 

His brows were still furrowed as your back stayed turned to him. Your hair was thrown in a messy nest atop your head and you were in nothing but a pair of tube socks and one of his dress shirts.

“What’s all this?” he coughed out to clear his throat and catch your attention. You had both plates in your hands as you spun around with slightly widened eyes and a big, toothy smile. 

“You’re home!” You squeaked, placing the dishes of piping food on the placemats. You reached for him on your tiptoes, pressing a longing kiss to his chapped lips and he kissed back but didn’t let his eyes close like yours did.

“I am, what’s the occasion?” he asked again, hands on your hips as you wrapped your little arms around his broad shoulders. 

His dress shirt rode up your body as you stretched and he could feel the delicate skin of your hips and soft material of your cotton underwear beneath his palm.

You seemed to blush at the question, avoiding making eye contact with him but Azriel tried to chase your line of vision to force it upon you. You tried to shimmy out of his grip but Azriel wouldn’t  have any of it. He gently pinched your jaw with a bent pointer finger beneath your chin and a thumb hovering across your bottom lip.

His head dipped to get a better look at you. There was a barely familiar look in your eyes and it was only when Azriel really looked that he noticed the perk pout in your lips. He should’ve known the second he saw you that something wasn’t right. 

You never pranced around the house in his shirt unless you were sick or  having a lounge day – neither of which were currently happening.

His shadows finally allowed themselves to circle your chest and up to your neck, a few straying to your arms before they returned back to their master. 

You were in subspace.

Azriel let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his wings droop on his back. He knew this was his fault, that he basically shoved you down into that little mindset last night when he left you to sort yourself out and didn’t kiss you goodnight. He knew you were  feeling needy and just wanted to please him.

“Baby…” he cooed, both hands cupping the sides of your face and your plump lips squished slightly between his hold. 

“I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore,” you murmured in a slight whine, like the words were stuck in your throat and you were too scared to mutter them out.

Azriel leaned down and kissed softly at your mouth, nudging the tip of his nose against your own. Brushing stray chunks of hair from your face, he pulled back just enough to allow you to look at him. 

“I’m not mad at you, my love. I never was,” he told you in a gentle tone. His words were spoken in a soft drawl – slower than usual to stress how much you needed to listen to him.

You let out a pathetic whine and tears started to pool in your eyes. You wanted to argue that he was, that surely you’d done something to upset him for him to act the way he had. 

Azriel seemed to know what was running through your head. Like you were too worried to speak in case you angered him further or he punished you. 

Punished you outside of the bedroom. Something he’d never done and never would. 

“But I made you dinner to apologise. I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to make you mad,” you pouted in a frantic state, like you were desperate to show that whatever you did to warrant the cold shoulder after sex last night, you didn’t mean it and you were sorry.

Azriel shook his head and kissed you again. “You didn’t make me mad, angel. You never make me mad,” he mumbled against your lips. 

The look in your eyes suggested you didn’t believe him. That perhaps you were telling yourself that his gentle tone was a trap. That he’d shower you with affection before neglecting you again, right when you believe he wouldn’t. 

“I was mean last night. I didn't take care of you after, did I?” he tried to encourage you to agree, to get you to nod your head but you stayed silent.

“It’s okay, my love. I’m not mad at you, could never be mad at you, baby,” he shushed you. Azriel released his hold on your cheeks and coddled you into his warm chest, pressing comforting kisses to the top of your head as your arms wrapped around his middle.

You didn’t seem to believe him, worried that maybe he was just saying that to coax you to warm back up to him before he punished you. Maybe as soon as you start smiling he’d throw you over his knees and give you a spanking. You were unsure if that’s what your subby mind wanted or not.

Azriel pulled you out of his grasp and held your face again. There was denial swimming in your eyes. You didn’t believe that you had done anything wrong – you didn’t think you deserved to be let off the hook. Azriel squinted and tilted his head a little, trying to read what was going through your head.

Do you want to be punished? Wouldn’t that just shove you further into your submissive headspace?

He knew you, it was best not to entertain the thought of Azriel being above you—being dominant—being daddy. Every other time he’d snapped you from your subspace, he’d had to remind you that he didn’t want his little girl – that he wanted his baby, his fiancé, his strong and independent female. 

He had to remind you that he was Azriel and he wouldn’t respond to you if you didn’t address him as such. But he also had to be careful. If he didn’t go about it the right way, you could fall deeper and it was the last thing he wanted.

He leaned down to kiss at your lips again but you didn’t kiss him back. You didn’t think you should be allowed to. Azriel frowned, his lips smearing against your closed mouth. 

“Why won’t you kiss me back, baby? Just want some kisses,” he pleaded softly, nose bumping yours and he coaxed tiy to open up; to kiss him back just as gently.

“That’s better…” he breathed. 

You let yourself sink into the kiss, your arms wrapping back around his neck as your chest bumped with his. Azriel still had his hands on the sides of your flushed face and they sunk down your body in tender holds. His palms rested on the little dips in your hips as he pulled you closer. Your neck craned up to meet his kisses and he dipped down to keep your touch intact.

An idea sparked in Azriel’s head and his grip on your hips loosened. His hands snaked around to the front of your (his) shirt and he began unbuttoning it from the bottom to the top. You don’t break the kiss or comment on his advances. You let him have his way with you, do what he pleased because you thought this was it: your punishment was just beginning.

But oh, how wrong you were. 

When the shirt slipped from your shoulders and swam at your ankles, goosebumps broke across the surface of your soft skin. Your nipples pearled and they scratched against the material of his leathers. The sensation caused a careless whimper to slip from your mouth, and into his. Azriel tried not to grin at the noise and let his warm, scarred hands run up the expanse of your bare back.

“Feel good, baby?” he mumbled into your mouth, hot tongue sliding against yours and you hummed again, welcoming his heavy taste of coffee and mint. 

Your mind was in a state of turmoil. Was he going to punish you? Was this his way of proving he wasn’t mad? What was he going to do? You can’t think straight.

You nod your head, kissing back with just as much vigour as you could but Azriel slowed the pace, wanting you to just feel him. 

“Just taste my lips,” he guided. 

His mouth moved slowly across yours, touch barely there but enough for you to feel him, to taste him. The gentleness of his touch helped to clear your mind to a state of blankness where you had nothing but him.

From the thumping of the bond that tugged on his chest, Azriel knew what word was festering on the tip of your tongue. His mouth barely caressed you as his left hand came up to massage your jaw. 

“Azriel,” he corrected you before you even spoke, his words a breathless whisper. He didn’t let his eyes close and you didn’t let yours open.

He watched you keen for more, to get a stronger taste and he felt you shiver in just your underwear and tube socks. Azriel allowed his hand to wander to the backs of your thighs before hoisting your small frame into his arms. Your legs wrapped instinctively around his middle, minding the expanse of his wings, and with his lips still on yours, he carried you through the hall and into the bedroom.

He didn't throw you on the bed like you expected. Instead, Azriel slowly eased you back on the balls of your feet while keeping his tongue against your own. 

“Daddy,” you mewled as he backed out of the kiss just enough to unbutton the lapels that contained his weapons to him. 

You felt the rough graze of the leather brush across your nipples and you expected him to blindfold you, to tie you up with the belt that holstered his weapons. But he let it fall to their ankles and you were left in another state of confusion. 

“Azriel,” he corrected you again, nosing at yours and tugging the leathers off his chest. Azriel guided your small hands to his torso, allowing the heat of his skin to warm yours. 

“I’m here, Y/N. Just feel my skin,” he encouraged in a soothing mutter.

He guided your hands across his chest and shoulders, coaxed you to squeeze and grope at his muscles and he started to swell harder in his pants when your thumb brushed over his nipples and fingers reached to lock in the tendrils of hair on the nape of his neck. With your mind and hands occupied on his body, Azriel took the opportunity to unbuckle his belt and slip out of his trousers.

He toed off his socks and kicked the clothing to the side; a prominent tent pitched in his boxers and you bravely let your hand fall further down his body. Your wrist knocked against his length through the cotton pants and he stifled a groan. “Please, daddy,” you whispered in a shaky tone against his lips and he could taste the cinnamon bagel you had for lunch.

He subtly shook his head against you, nose bumping yours as he eased you onto the bed – crawling between your parted legs and helping your head to lay back on his pillow. He knew his scent was encompassing your senses and boggling your mind. He also knew it was what would bring you back to him.

“Come on, Y/N,” he whispered softly. 

You’re swarmed by the darkness of his shadows that caress your skin, that whisper gentle reminders that he wasn’t made. Even through the shadows that swarmed you and the dim lighting of the bedroom, Azriel could still see your face – still make out your fluttering eyes beneath closed lids and he urged you to open them.

“Open your eyes, my love. Feel my touch,” he breathed.

His hips were gently rutting against yours, body keeping your thighs parted. Azriel reached a hand between your bodies. He didn’t want to break the touch to take off your underwear, so he opted to pull his aching cock from the waistband of his boxers instead. His tip was oozing with precum that he knew you loved to taste but you can do that later.

Azriel just wanted his love back.

He massaged your dripping core over your knickers, soaking the fabric as you whined desperately at him. Azriel peeled the fabric aside, thumbing at your swollen little clit and he felt your body jolt under his touch. “That's it,” he coaxed encouragingly, rubbing slow circles and you felt his cock bump at your entrance.

You let out a shallow shrill, one that was drowned by the silence of the room and he cooed at you. Azriel had one arm bent by the side of your head to hold up his weight and his hand was angled perfectly for him to brush strands of hair from your clammy forehead. “Gotta come back to me, Y/N. Gotta taste my lips and feel my skin, my love.”

You keen under his touch as Azriel dragged his thick cock to your weeping hole, feeling it flutter against his tip at the anticipation of intrusion. “Shh,” he cooed, circling your entrance before pushing in just a few inches. You gasped against his mouth, welcoming his tongue as he massaged his against yours.

He slowly sheathed in, vision dotted and he tried to muffle his belts of pleasure. You were clamping him down, walls soaked and warm and he felt so fucking snug in your tiny little cunt that stretched around him. 

“So good,” he praised, shuddering breaths across your face and your back arched, your chest out and into his.

“Daddy, please,” you mewled in a soft gasp, eyes wide open but you were staring straight through Azriel, like you didn’t really see him. He shushed you, rolling his lips deliciously and suckling on your tongue. “Come on, Y/N,” he guided. “Come back to me, love. Come back to Azriel.”

His hazel embers were drilling into yours in a gentle manner, like he was trying to get you to find the light in his eyes and swim to it. He tugged on that bond again, surging as much love and force as he could. 

He could feel your heart hammering against his chests and you were clawing at his back when your eyes met. “Yes,” You gasped as his cock hit against your precious little spongy spot.

Azriel grunted and panted above you, a sight so fucking holy toy thought you might’ve gone to heaven. But his thrusts were anything but angelic and his curls and wings were feigning devil horns above his head. 

“Azriel,” you choked, fingernails tearing into the taut skin of Azriel’s shoulders but he fucked into you harder at the mention of his name spilling weakly from your lips.

“That’s it. Just feel me, my love,” he grunted, slick sounds of your pussy squelching and his cock thrusting filled the air. Az’s chest was heavy on yours, a crushing weight that he couldn’t seem to hold up but the touch of his body on yours was what you needed. That push of guidance and pulling of grounding that knocked you into you right mindset.

“Azriel!” You cried again. 

Your voice was much harder, louder – you were more sure of yourself and him and where your mind was racing off to. Your eyes were still locked in an intense gaze and he didn’t know if your body was relaxing because you were close to your release or because you were out of your subby headframe.

You tugged back on that bond, finally, and Azriel could hear the pleads and cries of his name that you echoed through the bridge that connected your souls. 

“Cum for me, Y/N. Want you to cum all over my cock, baby. Come on.”

Azriel nipped at your bottom lip, let your tongue run across his gums and lick into his mouth. He could feel your thighs trembling from either side of his body and he kept going.

“Wanna cum! Please, please, please,” you begged, eyes frantic and wide. Azriel’s lips smeared against yours messily, cock sliding easily as you gripped him tighter and tighter. “Cum, baby. You don’t have to ask, just cum,” he promised.”

“Azriel! Fuck, Azriel!” 

Ecstasy washed over you with a shrill cry, eyes shut tight as Azriel met his own release and spilled into you hotly. You squirmed as he stilled, panting and frantic. Your hands were all over his clammy skin as you tried to regain a sense of consciousness.

Azriel’s hands looped around your face, shushing and cooing you to open your eyes, to come back to him. “Hey, shhh. Open your eyes, my love. Come on,” he spurred tenderly, tip of his nose nudging yours as your eyes slowly fluttered open. 

You blinked away the orgamsic blur and a toothy grin sat lazily on your lips.

He waited a beat, tried to decipher for himself whether or not you’d snapped out of it and was back with yourself. 

“Cauldron, you literally fucked it out of me,” you choked out a drunken giggle. 

Azriel let out a sighed laugh, head in the crook of your neck and your eyes were dazzling in post-orgasmic bliss.

“You’re a nightmare,” he joked into your chest, kissing his way up to your mouth. You offered an exhausted giggle, cheeks tinted pink from embarrassment of the underlying situation at hand. 

“I’m sorry, you know. Don’t know why I got like that,” you apologised. You felt a little silly, if you were honest, but Azriel never let you feel that way for long.

He shook his head and kissed your swollen lips again. “Don’t,” he said. “Was my fault for not making sure you were alright after. I normally do, I don’t know why I didn’t last night,” he admitted lowly. 

It was your turn to shake your head and scratch your blunt fingernails through his curls and at his scalp. “Not your fault, we both know how I get sometimes. Thank you, for snapping me out of it.”

Azriel kissed you softly, lips enveloped in a tired kiss as he slipped out of you, both of you hissing at the lack of warmth you offered each other. He sighed as he fell onto his back, sweaty chests cooling from the air. You coddled into his chest, his seed dripping from your sore cunt but you didn’t make any attempt to stop it.

Azriel snorted. “You’re dripping on the sheets.” 

You rolled your eyes at the comment and peeled your body away from his, sitting up to look between your parted thighs. Sure enough, there was a soaked patch just beneath you where arousal was starting to stick to the sheets.

You shrugged. “It’s your cum, not mine,” you argued playfully, shooting fake glares at the culprit. Azriel grinned cheekily at his love, reaching out for you so he could massage at your thigh the way he knew made you relax. 

“Well I do apologise,” he quipped in a playful tone and you hummed, playing into his mood.

“Mhm, you can change the sheets.” You leant down to kiss his cheek before hopping off the bed and padding nakedly to your bathroom. You switched on the light and allowed it to drown out into the bedroom so Azriel could see just how much mess you made. He couldn’t stop the blush that sat heavy on his cheeks.

You peered your head out of the bathroom and Azriel swore his heart fucking grew twice it’s size and he almost forgot how to breath. You had a shy smile on your lips and a look in your eye that he knew all too well. “I know you snapped me out of it but I still want to feel you… can we take a bath?” You asked, eyes hopeful as you gnawed on your bottom lip.

Azriel swallowed back the love that wanted to spew out of his mouth and nodded his head. “You can have anything you want, my love,” he sighed, dreamily. 

He followed you into the bathroom. When the water was drawn just enough and to the perfect temperature, you climbed in together with your back resting against his chest and Azriel’s lips pressed to your neck.

feedback is always appreciated!! <3

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (19/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: There's so much going on in Charles' brain, but having to come clean with his feelings is the hardest.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of fingering, masturbating), angst, swear words, Lando being a little shit

Word Count: 3.4k

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A/N: sorry. and happy season finale. let’s hope for a better 2024.

Charles has never been so happy about a pot of plants. 

After you slammed the door in his face, he barely made it to the street before throwing up in the nearest plant pot. His fingers clawed around the hard ceramic edges as his body struggled against the nasty words he spat at you. 

He doesn't even know why he was so mean to you. 

Was it because you had a wonderful evening last night? Because you two got so close that you both almost kissed? Because you fell asleep next to each other and he slept incredibly well? Or because Lando texted him in the middle of the night and asked what your favorite food was so that he could do everything right on your date?

Maybe he does know why he was so mean to you. 

"Charles? Concentrate, please," he is snapped out of his thoughts and Charles sits up a little straighter in his chair. He can feel something crack in his spine.

The meeting has been going on for hours. So long, in fact, that the private chefs in Maranello have already had to bring food to the room four times, with the last meal being dinner. Charles has eaten so much pasta and bruschetta that he feels sick just looking at the leftovers on the table in front of him. And the water with the slice of lemon in the glass in front of him no longer tastes very refreshing.

No matter what he eats or drinks, he can't get rid of the disgusting taste in his mouth. 

He wonders if your "I hate you" is as heavy on your stomach as the nasty words are on his. He would love to take back everything he spat in your face. Turn back time and undo everything. But he can't do that. Unfortunately. 

He'd love to bang his head on the tabletop. 

In fact, he can barely remember what he said. It's as if his brain short circuited, has had some kind of blackout, or as if a bomb has gone off and wiped everything out. Which doesn't excuse any of it. But from your hurt look, the tears in your eyes and your venomous response, it was so unacceptable that he'd like to slap himself for it. 

It wasn't the first time Lando had asked Charles for dating help and they are actually such good friends that Charles has always been happy to help him. But the fact that the Brit asked for help so that he could take you out nicely - that doesn't sit right with him. Which is complete nonsense, because he has no reason to. He has no claim of ownership over you. And besides, he didn't want to kiss you in the bookstore. 

Although that's not entirely true either.

He did want to kiss you. Desperately. And you'd been so close all day, you'd shown him your favorite place and everything had pointed to you wanting to make the move to something more - and then you gave him that look when he asked you for a dance. And he can understand why you didn't want to. After all, it's your place, your favorite place, and never would Charles do anything to tarnish that place in any way. Create a memory that you would later regret. 

The Petit Mondes is your safe haven. And as much as Charles wants you - and he definitely does - he wouldn't cross that line.

Since you've known each other, Charles has had to fight every waking - and to be honest, every sleeping - moment not to jump you. He can't stop thinking about you standing in front of him half-naked in a towel. Or how you turned around just a few steps away from him before dinner with his friends to show him your outfit. How you slept next to him and dreamt - dreamt of him. A moment he will never forget. 

Although he is actually a late riser, Charles woke up early that morning. Not because he had slept in, but because he was warm. Contrary to his expectations, it wasn't because of the comforter or the heating, but because you were lying half on top of him. Your head was resting against his shirt-clad chest, one of your legs was draped over his hip, while your arm was wrapped around his middle. 

At first, he didn't understand what was going on at all. He wanted to lift his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes, but he was met with resistance in the form of a lightly clad, sleeping beauty. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand was a little too high on your ribs to pass for being friendly, and by God - he hadn't felt this comfortable in ages.

Feeling your closeness had triggered something in him that confused him, but at the same time made him incredibly relaxed. He had pulled you closer to him, pressed you against him and enjoyed your warmth. For a moment, he had even considered whether he should just pull you all over him so that he could be as close to you as possible. 

Before he could think about how wrong that would be and how many boundaries he would be crossing, you had turned in his arms so that your back was against his chest. Your body molded perfectly against his, your warmth engulfing him, but nothing could have prepared him for the fact that you were going to move your butt a little in his direction, right up against his crotch. 

Charles had been awake in a flash and while you continued to sleep soundly, all the blood from his brain had rushed to his dick. Embarrassed, he'd squinted and focused on something else - Ferrari strategies, Joris last Christmas with the Leclercs, anything - and had scooted back a few inches to stick his hand down his pants so he could fix his raging boner.

But alas, you'd followed him like a magnet, squirming against him like you knew exactly what you were doing, so that his cock was wedged between your ass cheeks. Your body had been so warm, so soft against his hard one, that he had to stifle a moan.

Something you hadn't been able to do. If you hadn't been so close to him, he would have missed your soft gasp of his name. That's when he blew a fuse.

He would have loved to wake you up with kisses along your neck, let his fingers wander slowly over your skin until they finally disappeared into your panties. He would have let them glide through your folds and collect your wetness before gently rubbing your bundle of nerves. You would have turned to him and moaned into his mouth as he slid one of his fingers into your tight walls.

He'd never escaped his bedroom so quickly and quietly and jumped into the freezing cold shower.

The water felt like fine pinpricks as it splashed down on his burning hot skin, but no matter how cold he turned it on - his cock stood angry and proud. He put his head back in despair, his brain vehemently refusing to see his friend in this light, to desire you like this. But before he could do anything about it, his fingers had wrapped themselves around his aching cock. His imagination ran away with him, too many images popped up in his mind's eye as he squeezed it twice in the hope of relieving some tension. But the only thing it triggered was the feeling of a moment ago, when his cock was against your ass. 

He was almost ashamed of how quickly he came. 

He just hoped you didn't notice when he came back into the bedroom and woke you up with it. He had thought about lying back next to you, but had decided on the foot of the bed to create some distance. 

The fact that you were dreaming about him threw him off course. And he'd really wanted to kiss you - by God, he'd wanted to do even kinkier things to you - but the timing never seemed right. 

And then Lando's message came.

The vibration in his pocket brings him back to the present. Charles takes a quick look around to make sure he's not the center of the conversation, then glances at his phone. 

Lando: You need to come home now.

He looks at the screen, confused. Why the hell is Lando texting him? Lando of all people? Did you tell him all the things Charles threw at you? How badly he treated you? 

Charles: I'm in Maranello. 

If you really did confide in Lando, his answer sounds pathetic. Why else would Lando text him? His friend certainly knows that Charles screwed up. And also that you want to move out of the apartment. But does the Brit really believe that Charles could change your mind when he's the reason you're moving out?

Lando's answer comes immediately.

Lando: I don't care. Get your ass over here. 

The Monegasque turns on the keypad lock on his cell phone and places it on the table in front of him. It wouldn't make any difference if he went home now and tried to change your mind. What could happen is that his presence would only strengthen your decision to move out. Besides, he doesn't know how he's ever going to face you again. 

Before he can think about it, his cell phone starts ringing. The eyes of his co-workers land on him and he apologizes with a quiet "mi dispiace" before leaving the meeting, phone in hand. Out in the corridor, he doesn't even need to look at the screen to know who is calling. 

"If you don't go back to Monaco immediately, I'll come to Italy myself to get you," Lando snaps at him and Charles has to hold the receiver away from his ear to stop his eardrums from bursting.

"Hi, Lando."

"Don't give me 'Hi, Lando'. Get your fucking ass over here."

Charles rubs his forehead before running his whole hand over his face. "I can't just leave here."

"Don't talk shit like that. We both know you're not up for the meeting," the Brit replies bitchily. "Don't act like you don't have a choice."

The Monegasque rolls his eyes. "What do you want to hear from me now, Lando?"

The answer comes like a shot from a gun. "I want to know what you've been up to! Are you completely stupid?"

Charles would like to know the answer too.

"You go home right now, explain your shitty behaviour and apologize."

"And you're interfering because...?" His tone is cold. 

"Because I was in your apartment all evening and had to watch how devastated Y/N was. I'd love to kill you for it."

"Go ahead and do it. She sure as hell wouldn't mind."

He swears he hears Lando take a deep breath on the other end of the line. 

"I'm going to tell you this once. Just once, Charles. And I'm saying this for her sake, because I still have hope that you're the person I was praising to her."

Praising? If you've told Lando everything, then you've certainly told Charles everything about the Brit. That he just wants to get you into bed. So why would Lando want to help him?

"What you did was absolute bullshit, Charles. Totally below the belt and you've never acted as fucking shit as you just did."

Charles rolls his eyes. "Is there anything positive coming?"

"Shut up, you idiot. I don't know what you've done in the few days you've known each other to make her so crazy about you, but I don't have to. Any blind man can see there's something between you. Something good. So go home now and save what can be saved before she really decides to leave the country."

Charles, who had just been leaning against the wall, stands up straight. "The country? I thought she just wanted to move out."

"She's been thinking about it, asshole. United States, Australia. Something really far away from you."

"But she has her job here, at that one magazine. There's no way she'd leave like that."

"She got fired, motherfucker. Before you made your weird deal. Nothing's keeping her here anymore. So get your ass over here now before she really decides to take off."

How could Charles be so blind? He knows the magazine, his mom reads it occasionally and he actually knows that a new issue comes out every week. You've known each other for five days - five days that you've spent entirely with him. Something that would definitely not be possible with such a full-time job. 

"And what do you want from me now? That I drop everything to go home even though she doesn't want to see me?"

"I've never seen anyone as stupid as you."

"Can you stop with the insults?" Charles snaps through the phone. 

"You have nothing to say to me, you arsehole. She told me what you said about me. You owe it to us to go off and try to make things right." 

Charles can't help but laugh. "Us? So you two are already an us?" He doesn't know why he's talking to one of his closest friends like this. Especially when the latter only wants to help put things right that Charles has messed up. The Monegasque has no reason to be angry. But the disgusting taste in his mouth, which he hasn't been able to get rid of for hours, is not anger. Unfortunately, he only realizes it now.

He's fucking jealous. And he can't do anything about it.

"We're friends, but apparently you don't know what the word stands for," Lando replies snippily. "Go home, explain to her why you behaved so badly and apologize to her." His voice softens, warmer than it has been throughout the phone call. "Charles, I know you're being careful because you're afraid of getting hurt again. And I can understand that, I really can." He takes a deep breath. "But it's Y/N we're talking about here. Sit down and talk to each other, be honest, and then it'll all work out."

Charles' gaze wanders to the huge Ferrari logo hanging on the wall next to him and his bad guilt returns. You don't even know who he is. To you, he's Charles, the roommate who shows you beautiful places, introduces you to his friends and with whom you share a bed. You are the only person who knows him as Charles and not as Charles Leclerc.

What would you think of him if the cat was out of the bag? When you see who he really is, including the spotlight? What happens if you like Charles, but not Charles Leclerc? He doesn't know if he could handle it. His job is his life, he's on the road all year round and what little time he has he has to divide between friends and family. 

That's why his relationship with Annika failed. She was right about what she threw at him. That you always have to wait for him and that it's not fair. And she knew what she was getting into from the start. But you don't. You would be thrown in at the deep end if you decided to go for it. If you chose him.

"I don't think it's that easy," Charles says quietly, and he has to suppress the tremor in his voice. "She - she doesn't deserve this life. This risk. She - she," he takes a deep breath and has to wipe away the tear running down his cheek. "She's too good for me. She deserves someone great."

"How strange," Lando replies. "That's exactly what she says about you. So get in the car and apologize. I'm sure you'll be able to sort it out. And if you say shit like that about me again, I'll drive you into the wall in Bahrain next year."

Charles curls his mouth into a thin smile. "I'm truly sorry, Lando. And thank you for everything."

"I'm just absolutely the best." Charles can almost hear his grin before the Brit hangs up.

When the Monegasque re-enters the meeting room, all eyes are on him. With deliberate steps, he walks to his chair and grabs his jacket before looking at his team boss. "I'm going home."

His boss crosses his arms in front of his chest. "You can't just leave like that, Charles. We need to talk about next season and everything that's gone wrong this year."

"I can tell you exactly what happened," the brunette replies as he zips up his jacket. "The strategies this year were all for the trash, you screwed me over and you cost me the title." He grabs his wallet and car keys from the table in front of him. "Make sure things go better next year. After all, it doesn't get any shittier than this. See you next year. Have a good holiday."

He knows that his Ferrari can drive fast. And he also knows that he shouldn't drive that fast. But the roads home are empty and he wants to get to you as quickly as possible, in the hope that you haven't left the apartment yet. The accelerator pedal is almost stuck to the floor and he would certainly have to pay a heavy fine if the police caught him speeding. But apparently luck is on his side and it takes him just over three hours to turn onto the streets of Monaco.

The closer he gets to your apartment, the faster his heart beats and he can feel himself starting to sweat. What's the best way to start the apology?

I'm sorry I was so shitty to you, but it was because -

I behaved like crap, but it was only because - 

I'm sorry I was such a bad friend, but you should have - 

Wow. It actually all sounds like shit. 

Maybe Lando is right. Maybe the most reasonable thing would be for Charles to just be honest, even if it means destroying everything between you. But you deserve the truth.

I'm sorry I said those bad things to you and I'm sorry I hurt you. Of course, apologizing can't undo any of it, but if you gave me the chance, I could explain myself to you. I was jealous because we had such a nice evening and then I find out you planned a date with one of my friends. I wanted to kiss you in the bookstore, I've wanted you ever since we met. You've been messing with my head from the beginning, taking over my heart and I can't think straight when you're with me. Maybe it's crazy because we've only known each other for five days, but I've never felt about someone the way I feel about you. I'm in lo-

His train of thought stops abruptly as he turns into the street. A green Nissan is parked on the sidewalk in front of your apartment, the driver's door is open and the hazard lights illuminate the walls of the house. 

Charles worriedly parks at the next opportunity before jumping out of the car and dashing to the front door, which is wide open. He can already hear angry voices from outside, a male voice that almost shouts the whole house awake. 

And your voice, angry and rough and shaky, as if you were at the end of your tether. 

Charles sprints up the few steps to your apartment and stops like a flash on the top step when he sees you. You're wearing your pyjamas, your hair is disheveled, as if you've run your hand through it several times, and when you see him, you snap your eyes open as if you've seen a ghost. 

But it's not the sight of you that makes Charles' blood boil. 

It's Raphael's, who follows your gaze and takes a step back when he realizes who he's facing. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?"

next part

[rooksamoris]

Woke up, first thing I did was see your response to my request! I love it! You have done well in spreading the Jamil L/N agenda.

Here is my next request: a confession/proposal scenario.

Reader confesses, Jamil tries rejecting them but reader knows him too well and asks for the real reason. Cue his usual "you deserve better than a servant" & "I don't want to trap you in a life of servanthood". Reader, completely unfazed, just goes "then just marry into my family". Cue blushy Jamil cause he somehow got a confession and a proposal all at once. Before he can overthink Kalim just busts through the door going "YES! I'LL PAY FOR IT!" (he was eavesdropping).

💞 — in which jamil rejects you and then rethinks it.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort vibes, metaphor of burning skin on sand used

💞 — around 750 words. im obsessed with jamil taking his lover's last name to escape servitude. so sorry this took sooooo long!! im getting to requests and asks asap <3

“No.” You did not even get the chance to complete your confession before he suddenly hit you with a rejection. A cold rejection at that. You recoiled, pulling your offering with you, and your brows furrowed. “You didn’t even let me fin—” Jamil sighed, seeming exasperated with you, “It’s so obvious what you’re about to say,” he tells you, before turning around, his long dark hair following him and swaying. To be fair, you were quite obvious. He could see exactly what you were about to do. He had noticed the way you had been looking at him lately. If you were not talking to him, you were gazing at him longingly somewhere in the corner instead of paying attention to what Grim or Ace was saying. You made it even more obvious with how you showed up, bearing gifts in your hands and constantly touching up your appearance. If he were anyone else, he would have reassured you that you looked amazing instead of just rejecting you before you could say a word. Before he could walk away, you grabbed his wrist. Perhaps you were suddenly possessed with the confidence of the Red Queen, or maybe you were just stupid, but you did it and now had to deal with it, “At least tell me why,” you pleaded.

His heart broke a little when he heard the tremble of your voice. You bit the inside of your lip to keep anything else from escaping. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. Your fingers slipped away from his wrist and you averted your gaze in embarrassment. “I’d never have any time for you,” he said, simply, keeping his head turned away from you, “I’m very busy taking care of Kalim as is… it would be dhulm (cruel) to do that to you,” he added. That was the last thing he wanted to say. He knew this confession was coming for a while and prepared himself to reject you from the first time he felt your lingering gaze. What he wanted to say was that he wanted you to. Jamil would have used his bare hands to dig through layers of scalding desert sands for just a sip of what your love could have been like. He would have worn the burn scars like a trophy—a testament to his love and devotion. Instead, he said no. Before you could speak, he held a hand up to silence you, “I can’t give you the life that you want to live. You’d be bound to servitude for just being mine.” He loved the thought of that. Being able to call you his was a dream, and it would stay a dream. When his blood was spilled, it did not hold even a bit of value, and he could not bind you to him and make your blood as worthless as his. There would be no ceremonies when he died, no pretty tombstones, and few people who would care enough to attend. He did not have it in him to make that your fate as well. You stared at him in disbelief, your nose scrunching up slightly as you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. It was a forceful tug, causing him to stumble forward a bit, and you took your chance, pressing your forehead to his. Those eyes of yours were piercing and determined. “Marry into my family. Take my last name, and Viper servitude would be a thing of the past.” His hands were suddenly torn out of the scalding sands which burned them. He stared at you in pure shock, a blush rising from his neck, to his ears and finally painting his pretty brown cheeks. His brows were knitted—the words dared not to spill out of his lips. “H–Huh… wait—you can’t be—” Before he could speak, Kalim barged in with a wide grin on his lips, throwing himself against you and Jamil and tugging you both close in a hug, “I’ll pay for it! It will be the most grand occasion! We’ll even dress up the camels—” As Kalim rambled, Jamil looked over at your pretty, smiling face. You were laughing at Kalim’s words and planning the occasion along with him, as if you would be married tomorrow and not years from now. His gaze softened, and when your eyes met his, you knew he accepted your confession. Finally, he could let someone mend the burns the sand left on his palms.

[slttygeto]

HEART TO HEART : GOJO SATORU

what is heart to heart? a show in which we bring two people who have history together to ask them a couple of interesting, heartbreaking questions.

today's episode: 27 year old Gojo Satoru broke up with his girlfriend 4 years ago, yet he cannot move on. does she feel the same? and does a person really not move on even after four years?

note: i started this…without a second thought. i dont know where its going or if its gonna do well. but i enjoyed it very much

a cold room, a white set, two chairs and a table—satoru gojo knew that the point of this very simple and minimalistic set was to make him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but a tiny vase would’ve been appreciated.

“why did you two break up?”

the ivory haired man leans back in his chair with a dry chuckle, fingers drumming along the surface of the wooden table.

“I was insecure,” he admits rather bitterly. “I just had a lot of things to work on, and letting go of her seemed like the right thing to do.”

“do you miss her?”

“oh, absolutely,” there’s a smile on his face when he says that, and sits up straight with his hands clasped together (an indicator that he was most likely anxious to be asked such vulnerable question). he goes on to squeeze his hands a bit and his lips are sealed shut for a bit before opening them again. “I thought to myself that I wouldn’t find love for a while after her—but it’s been four years, and I cannot get myself to move on.”

“has she moved on?”

“maybe? I’m not sure,” he lets out a nervous laugh and looks away from the camera before holding his head in his hands, there was a mental battle going on inside his head—before he finally decides to speak again. “I actually stalked her instagram account last week through a mutual friend and… I didn’t see a man on any of the pictures. she could just be super private.”

“was she private about being with you?”

“she would post pictures here and there, we didn’t like to keep our relationship a secret.”

gojo is handed a blindfold and he neatly wraps it around his eyes and waits, heart thumping loudly in his chest.

when you were asked by a friend if you would do this interview, a part of you was a bit hesitant just because you weren’t sure if you wanted to air out your love life like this and have to deal with the consequences of a potential future lover being upset about it—but when you were told that it was gojo satoru, your ex-boyfriend whom you dated for 3 years and were planning on building a future with—that is until it abruptly ended with no warnings whatsoever. perhaps you ignored the tornado warnings? were there even any to begin with? you will never know because you blocked him everywhere on social media. from instagram to his phone number. you couldn’t deal with the fact that he existed around you, near you yet you couldn’t have him.

four long years of not having seen him took a toll on your heart, as it sure gets excited the moment you spot white strands on top of a head that is laid out on the table. his sense of style is still so casual and laid back, but not in a cocky way. satoru has always been about feeling comfortable in your clothes but you notice his tense shoulders and his foot tapping and can immediately tell that he is anxious.

you silently pull the chair back facing him and he lifts his head off of the table. your hands rest on top of the surface and the producer finally asks gojo to take off the blindfold.

when he does and you two lock eyes, you both start smiling big but you can’t help the little tremble to your lips before you look away from the camera to wipe a few emotional tears.

“sorry,” you whisper but your mic was able to pick it up. almost on instinct, satoru reaches towards you and squeezes your arm reassuringly.

“when was the last time you spoke to one another?”

“four years ago.” you are the one to answer the questions now and you keep avoiding satoru’s big blue eyes.

“was it hard having to walk away from a long term relationship?”

“It’s always hard when you thought there was a connection,” your emphasis on the word “thought” makes gojo look down at his lap almost in shame. he had no time to explain himself or what he did, yet he couldn’t help but feel that this interview was going to be like a second chance to explain himself and perhaps give a proper apology.

“you had no closure?”

“nope.” you both answer at the same time and it feels as though feelings of resentment are starting to resurface as your demeanor grows cold around him and you pull your hands away from the table.

“why do you think you broke up?”

“you said you couldn’t really see us together anymore,” you were now speaking to satoru directly and he gladly took the heat of your words. “you said…that us being together was just a waste of time and that one of us has to walk away,” you were clearly hurt by his words, even four years later. the breakup took a toll on you both physically and emotionally. you were incapable of going on dates for a painfully long period of time that your friends had to drag you outside to meet some potential new partners—but none of them felt like satoru. you resented him for crawling into your heart and finding a safe space there, for settling down and building a warm house inside only to tear it down and leave as quickly as he came.

“I wasn’t… sure what I wanted to do at the time, I was confused about my future,” satoru admits for the first time ever. “I thought it was so unfair to drag you down that hole with me when it was so clear to you that you had a plan in mind—a secure one so I just-“

“left.” you finish the sentence for him and he lets out a pained laugh.

“yeah, I left. and when I realized that you had blocked me, I knew that there was no going back and that I actually did it. yknow, like, it wasn’t this bad dream where I would wake up and you were still beside me—you were actually gone, I made you leave.”

there was a long silence after this and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not after that confession.

“did you miss me?” gojo takes the initiative to ask this question instead of the producer but they don’t complain, watching carefully as you look back at your ex partner.

“I did,” you say again in a whisper, almost scared that you coming to terms with this horrible realization was going to hurt you further.

“do you think that…we could’ve worked out had I been honest at the time?”

“satoru, I would’ve never left you as easily as you did,” you knew that it wasn’t easy for him, but you want him to know that your love for him was bigger than he ever thought.

“would you like to try again?”

you two stare at each other for a bit and you sneak your hand towards his huge palm, resting your index finger there and tracing soft circles.

“yeah… I want to. do you?” you look up at him through your eyelashes and gojo’s heart feels as though it is about to burst.

“I would love to.”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

—💭 if you like this, leave me a tip!

[chaiifluuf]

“i think you missed a spot.” 

you don’t even know how you and dazai got to this point but you were definitely not complaining and neither was he.

it all began with you wanting to test make-up on him for fun, then demonstrating how to apply lipstick and now you’re sitting on the bathroom floor with your greedy boyfriend who won’t stop asking for kisses. the cherry red shade on your lips matched all the kissing marks covering his face. his eyes look dazed and dilated, eyes which were trained on you and accompanied by a lazy smile. his messy hair that managed to make him even more attractive. dazai quite literally seemed like he was drunk off your kisses.

“you sure?” you murmur as you inspect every detail of his face. there aren’t many places left that haven’t gotten your attention and you think maybe this would be enough. dazai begs to differ. he hums affirmatively to your query, tapping a finger on his lips as if indicating for you to kiss there next. he can never have quite enough, can he? a soft smile rises to your mouth and without a second thought, you lean in again.

you’re certain that your lipstick is smeared by now but you couldn’t care any less. your soft lips in touch with his is all you can focus on, his hands cupping your face to bring you impossibly closer. he slightly nibbled on your lower lip as you sighed against his mouth, running a hand through his hair. he’s much more needier this time, a type of desire that you’re not unfamiliar with. the kiss lasted until both of you were left breathless, dazai’s hot breath tickling your skin as your forehead is still in contact with his.

“i want more,” he mumbles to you and your heart skips a beat. you swear you can see small hearts in his irises as he looks at you. there is so much love in his gaze that it makes every single doubt you might have had in this relationship disappear. it wasn’t even the teasing kind of glint that you usually see, just pure devotion and yearning that only you get to witness in moments like these. you must’ve been admiring him for a long moment because what he says next catches you a little off guard.

“please.”

he says your name as well and his voice is so tender yet desperate. dazai almost never begs. and if he does it’s either to annoy you or to get you to leave the agency with him early. but this is neither of those instances. your kisses really did something to him. or perhaps broke him.

“i don’t know… you seem like you’re on a bit of an overdose right now.” you tell him with a breathy laugh as you brush some of his hair strands behind his ear, taking this chance to tease him a little. his reaction doesn’t disappoint, the subtle pout appearing on his lips not going missed by you.

“i think i’ll go crazy if you stop here. my love, please.” you can feel the butterflies in your stomach because god this version of dazai makes you fall for him even more if that’s possible. besides, how could you ever say no to him when he’s like this? before responding, you plant another tender kiss on his forehead, which already had a few kissing stains here and there. you decide to whisper your next words, your tone having more warmth than previously.

“then let’s continue this in the bedroom, hm?”

eeee very short but kinda proud of this one ! wishing everyone a good day/night ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

[musings-of-a-college-dork]

First Time With Someone Like You…

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader, brief mentions of Billy x reader

Word count: roughly 10.1K

Eddie and his girlfriend finally put a label on it at last and now they’re feeling ready to take another new step together.

Warnings: NSFW (Minors do not interact), oral (f receiving), protected p in v sex, mentions of kinky shit but no kinky shit, reader’s first time having sex, inexperienced reader, terms of endearment (baby, pretty girl, sweetheart), AFTERCARE INCLUDED BECAUSE YES, fluffy sweet sex. 

Author’s note: I got a message the other day from @wdsara48 sending some very sweet thoughts about Bumpy Ride which is my other NSFW piece currently published and asking if I had ever written Eddie with an inexperienced reader and yes I have! This is that piece! It's again part of the same longer work that most of my Eddie stuff is from! Anyway it's on the longer side and I hope you all enjoy!

The Hideout was never a big spot, never drew a big crowd, but recently Corroded Coffin had managed to get a bigger gig - a going away party for a good friend of Gareth’s. The group had all banded together in order to make sure their setlist was flawless, down to a t, and needless to say, it had paid off. 

Corroded Coffin had just finished their rendition of “Jessie’s Girl”, which had left the crowd more than satisfied and their pockets heavier than usual as they began packing up their belongings. Music blared over the speakers, although it was nothing compared to them live. Eddie was also a little stoked on the premise that his girlfriend was here - something that always made him excited. Up until this point, they had never said the words to each other and had never put an official title on it but now…tonight they were ready to introduce her to the band as the girlfriend. People were still laughing and talking, but Y/N and her friend Jude who she had come with weren’t quite ready for the party to be over.

 “Hey Y/Nnnnnn”, Jude sang as they ran up and poked their friend. “Jonathan’s going to drive Nancy, Robin, and I home. Do you want to come?” 

“Oh,” Y/N said as she looked between her friend and the boy she was now thrilled to call her boyfriend, before shaking her head, “Thank you but…I think I have other plans. I appreciate it though! Have fun! And be safe!” She tacked on to the end despite herself. Jude engulfed her in one last hug. 

“You little freak “ they whispered, before heading out the door with the rest of their friends. Eddie was closing his guitar case and walked over to the bar to collect a few last donations people had left for the band. Once he gathered his money, he smiled and jogged to Y/N.

“Hey you”, he looked down at her. 

“Hey there yourself,” she laughed as she took one of his hands into hers, “You put on a remarkable show Munson. Really.” He blushed.

“What can I say?,” He took a pause before asking, “Seriously, what can I even say to you right now? I’m getting so distracted.”

“Maybe brief introductions to your bandmates who I don’t know and then…” Y/N had to take a little breath to gain the courage to ask, “We go back to yours?” Eddie looked into her eyes with disbelief. He grabbed her hand and started fiddling with her fingers out of nerves.

“For sure, yeah. They’ve been dying to meet you”, he said absent-mindedly, as he pulled her over to the boys sitting on the stage. “Hey fellas, there’s someone I want for you to meet”, Eddie beamed. Y/N stood at his side, his hand still in hers as she gained the attention of his bandmates. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m Eddie’s girlfriend.” God did it feel good to say it at last. The band stood in stillness. 

This stillness lasted for eternity. 

Gareth and Jeff looked at each other, trying too hard to hide their smile. Finally, Harrison broke the silence.

“Wow…” he cleared his throat. “ That’s… excuse me….that’s really cool.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to finally meet this girl that Eddie hasn’t been able to shut up about, since the beginning of summer,” Jeff reached out to shake her hand. Y/N let go of Eddie’s hand to return it only for Eddie to take the free hand on the other side of her with a little squeeze.

“It’s equally as nice to meet his wonderful bandmates at last,” Y/N said, returning the hand squeeze with one of her own. 

“Honestly we thought he was making you up,” leaned Harrison, who leaned on the mic stand in order to properly shake his head. 

“Oh really?” Y/N laughed as she looked at Eddie, “He made me sound too good to be true?” 

“You would not believe it. He said you were hotter than Phobe Caits,” Jeff laughed. “Which you actually are,” Eddie turned to face Jeff with a look on his face that spelled out danger, “Respectfully,” Jeff modified with his hands up in the air.

“No one is actually hotter than Phobe Caits,” Y/N said with a smile, “But I appreciate the compliment. Well, I don’t mean to keep you all from cleaning up, let me know if I can help but if not, I’ll just wait until you’re done.” 

“Hey, no worries at all. Just enjoy the music, we’d be happy to give you a ride home,” Harrison said. 

“Considering that I am the one that drove you gentlemen here, I’ll be the one to offer,” Eddie said with a hint of agitation in his voice. He faced Y/N and winked. “The ride offer is also extended to you. We won’t be very long. Right men?”

“Right,” they barked. Y/N decided to let them work and headed to take a seat at the bar until they were done packing up, enjoying the people still partying around her. It wasn’t very long at all before Eddie slid up next to her.

“Hey,” he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, “Just so you know I didn’t do anything tonight. Like, I’m sober. In case you wanted a ride home. Scout’s honor,” he smiled and put up his hand. “And I am totally down for if you want to come over, but if you….” he faded.

“I really would like to if you want,” Y/N said softly, “I am sober too. I had half a drink and called it quits and…I want that but only if you do.” 

“Legendary,” he chuckled. He took her hand. “By the way, my van smells like armpits because of those little shits. Just so we’re clear,” he led her to the door of the bar. He took her hand and led her out of the bar and towards his van parked at the very edge of the parking lot.

“And the smell of weed?” Y/N teased completely as she enjoyed their hands swinging back and forth together. 

“Yeah…that’s me,” he chuckled as they got closer to the car. “You don’t mind it too much?”

“It’s ok, I’ll just have to sit closer to you since I like the smell of your cologne,” she smiled, making his heartbeat pick up.

“Damn,” he opened the car door for her, and offered his help, “you’re making me feel like a princess tonight.” 

“Simply trying to return the favor since you always make me feel that way,” she beamed at him as she got in the car before the rest of the band brought their stuff out and began loading it in. He shut the door gently behind her and continued to hold her hand through the window. He kissed her hand gingerly and then simply leaned against the rearview mirror, gazing at her. He completely ignored his band’s cries for help and complained. He just sat and looked at her. 

“Nice view?” She asked without looking at him. He said nothing. He lost his smile. His face turned into something else. Before Y/N knew it, he was kissing her more passionately and carefully than she had ever been kissed. 

“EDDDDIIIIIEEEEE” the band cried together. He parted from her regretfully and took one last look in her eyes before he continued onto the driver's side. Y/N was absolutely breathless as she processed it with all her fingertips coming up to trace over her lips. Eddie was opening the driver’s side door before she knew it and she had long forgotten his bandmates were present.

“Do me a favor baby and buckle up,” he said as he reached over and buckled Y/N’s seatbelt for her before not buckling his own, “it’s gonna be a bit of a rough ride.” 

“Hey Eddie, are there seat belts back here?” asked Harrison.

“Nope.” Eddie turned on the ignition and pulled out of the space, “Clench your butt cheeks to the seats and shut the hell up!”

Eddie drove as recklessly as possible, having absolutely no regard for the safety of his fellow bandmates… only becoming careful when he remembered Y/N was in the car. 

“Get out” he would say as he pulled up to their house. 

“I had fun Eddie,” they would say sheepishly.

“Out!”

Finally, when the last member had been dropped off, Y/N could watch the tension leave Eddie’s shoulders. 

“They’re good friends, huh?” She asked. 

“They are,” Eddie pulled his van into reverse and sped off the road towards his castle, “They’re young and can be idiots though.”

The pair fell into a comfortable silence until Eddie deemed that as usual, he had something more he needed to say.

“I am beyond proud to be your boyfriend,” He started making Y/N smile, “But I think, for your sake, we should come up with some kind of protocol. I’m not sure if you’d want anyone else to know that we were dating. It could ruin your reputation.” Y/N looked over at him as he drove, processing for a minute. 

“Respectfully, Eddie, I don’t care about my reputation. But…I do understand if you care about yours,” she said honestly, “I mean having me as your girlfriend kinda ruins the scary guy who hates everyone thing you’ve got going.” 

Eddie shook his head and gripped her thigh tighter. “Believe me, if I had things my way I wouldn’t be thought of as scary. People just fear what they can’t understand. And for everyone else in this dumb hick town, I am an enigma.” He pulled into a lot that had multiple trailers and drove slowly. He pulled up to his Uncle’s trailer and turned off his headlights. “I’m saying that it could be potentially dangerous for you. You could be the target of a lot of hate and gossip. Just promise me you will think about this….” Y/N felt her heart break for him just a tiny bit as she looked at him. Taking his face into her hands and turning her to look at him she nodded.

“I will. I promise,” she placed a soft kiss on his cheek which made him melt, “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

“I got you,” He murmured softly, “Always.” Y/N beamed as she leaned over and kissed him on the lips gently before pulling away. He let out a light giggle before he practically leapt out of the car and scurried to open her door for her. “M'lady," he offered her his hand. She giggled as she took it and allowed him to help her out of the car, shutting the door behind her. 

“Thanks, Eddie.” 

“It’s actually Sir Eddie, to be precise, Lady L/N '', he led her to the front door, puffing his chest out to be the most chivalrous version of himself that he could be. 

“Yes sir,” Y/N said with a laugh as she headed up the steps to stand beside him. Hearing this gave Eddie superhuman strength and he bounded up the stairs to open the door for him. Good to note, Y/N thought to herself.

“Just so you know, my Uncle works nights and I think he’s staying with his girlfriend tonight,” Eddie opened the door and bowed to let her in first. 

“That’s probably for the best,” Y/N said as she stepped inside. She admired the place, the hats that lined the walls, the countertop filled with stuff, and how warm it felt instantly, the warm lighting making her feel at ease. “I mean… never mind,” she cut herself off and stepped fully inside, pushing nerves and fear of saying the wrong thing aside.

“Sorry about the mess,” Eddie said as he moved some things here and there as Y/N continued to take it all in. She thought for a split second he maybe hadn’t heard her remark from before but as he turned to her she knew he had, “And don’t make me laugh. You know what we’re about to do”, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the left of the trailer into the far right room. “This is me”, he opened the door for her, revealing his bedroom. 

“Wow,” Y/N said, admiring how eclectic it was. The walls were crammed with stuff and despite things being fairly clean, she could tell the place was usually messy. 

Maybe I wasn’t the only one hoping for this, Y/N thought as she looked around, admiring the photos and band posters as she stepped all the way into Eddie’s room, missing that he closed the door behind and leaned against it as he watched her. Without thinking much about it she pointed to the blank spot on the wall which was remarkably out of place with the rest of the decor. 

“For your guitar?” She asked. 

“Oh yeah!” He nodded as he took a step off the wall, his eyes trained on Y/N, “You should meet her sometime. Her name’s Roxie and she has the clarity of an angel. But she’s out in the van and…. I don’t feel like she’s my main focus right now”, he grabbed her waist and pulled her in so that her back was pressed against his chest drawing a gasp from her as he moved her hair to expose her neck to him, “No offense Roxie,” he whispered before placing a kiss on Y/N’s neck softly and delicately to test the waters.

“Very respectful of you to leave her in the van when having another woman over,” Y/N teased as she leaned into him, head tilting back to rest on his chest, giving him permission to continue. He smirked and complied leaving another, and another. 

“She’s a strong and independent woman. I guess I have a type”, he said as his hands slid down her waist, giving a little squeeze to her hips. “I’d never leave you in a car though, to be clear,” Y/N laughed out loud as she slipped off her jacket. 

“I appreciate it,” She said as she turned to face him. “Eddie, I just want to say if you have any hesitati-”. He picked her up between her legs and threw her on the bed. She would have bounced but before she could Eddie wrapped his arms around her thighs, effectively pinning her hips down as he looked at her from between her legs, kneeling on the ground still. He looked at her for a moment before confessing with a sigh, “I’m hesitating like crazy.”

“Because…?” Y/N prompted as she sat up just a bit to be closer to him. He grabbed her wrists and threw them back on the mattress, positioning himself comfortably on top. He paused and looked at her for a moment before his expression shifted and he let out a sigh as he sat up to kneeling, leaning back on his hands. 

“I…I’m gonna be honest here and vulnerable and stuff,” he said, trying to keep his demeanor casual but Y/N could tell he was being serious, “But I’ve never been with someone I actually care for in the way I care about you. Most people want to hook up with me - get the town freak’s dick, learn a bit about themselves so they can get off, and leave - and that’s fine but…I guess I’m worried that since I’ve never been with anyone I cared about beyond wanting to learn…well stuff…I won’t compare to Hargrove,” he said with a little look down before shaking his head, “Which is stupid I know-”

“I wouldn’t know what Billy is like,” Y/N cut him off as she sat up. Eddie looked at her and raised a brow. 

“But you…” Eddie’s eyes went wide as he looked at her, “You and Billy never did it?”

“Nope,” Y/N said, not meeting his eyes, “We did not…we just…made out a couple of times…” His expression changed, it lightened. 

“Oh,” he slowly rubbed the sides of her thighs back and forth. “So… and correct me if I’m wrong. This would be your first?”

“Yes,” She said, looking at him because if she couldn’t admit to him she wanted him to be her first she didn’t deserve to have him as such, “It would be.” He leapt up with a drive she knew only from days when he was really pumped for Hellfire. 

“Well, then this is ALL WRONG”, he paced back and forth looking for something. “Hmmm.” He stopped when he saw his stereo. “Well, we obviously need music,” he smirked and bolted to his cassette shelf, diving in and throwing random tapes on the wall. 

“No! Seriously?” Y/N asked as she sat up, laughing as she took the time to examine his room a bit more to distract herself from the nerves, “Eddie I don’t think that’s…” Her eyes caught on a metal shiny piece hanging from the wall near where he was searching for music and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Why did he have those? Just then “I’m On Fire”, by Bruce Springsteen. The soft guitar played through the speakers as Eddie tried to diffuse the tension. 

“Oh,” he ran to his desk and ripped out a piece of notebook paper. He went to work doing something on it, but Y/N was all too distracted by the handcuffs on the wall. He finally turned around and offered her an origami rose made out of said notebook paper. “Next time, I’ll get you a bunch. Sorry, I only had one,” he sat on the bed next to her and brushed her hair aside, drinking her presence. “Whatcha looking at?”. 

“Nothing,” she said far too quickly as she turned back to him, beaming at the rose and at him. “That’s impressive,” She said, trying to clear her mind and focus on how sweet he was being, despite her stomach being in knots. 

“Well, middle school Munson didn’t have the musical talent or sexual prowess that he does now. So…. I… spent all my time making origami.” Y/N laughed out loud, a smile coming to her face.

“That’s sweet,” She admitted, “Do you do this for all the girls?” She said in an attempt at an old cheesy line, batting her eyes in a mock manner. 

“The other girls haven’t seen my bedroom”, he replied matter-of-factly. Y/N sat in silence, her eyes wide as she took in that information.

“Oh,” was all she managed, her mind drifting back to the handcuffs as she went red. Is that because he has his personal stuff here? Maybe it’s because he didn’t want them to know him…does he want me to know him? Her mind raced and he could tell by the hazy look on her face. 

“You like that?” He got up and started walking towards the wall. He looked back at her with a knowing smile. 

“Yes,” she said, completely honest, “Not to sound like a cliche but…it makes me feel…special-god, that’s such a shit thing to say-”

“Oh no, not at all,” he smirked getting closer to the wall, “I like them too. I only break them out for special occasions.” 

“Oh!” Y/N said quickly as she looked at him, “No, I didn’t mean…I meant that no one else has been here…I didn’t…” 

“Hm?'' he scrunched his face as he turned to look at her again, his hands coming to rest on his heart in mock pain. “I’m surprised at you, L/N. Do you not like it?” He pointed to the Metallica poster right next to the handcuffs. “I thought you loved Metallica- Oh did you think I was talking about…” he trailed off, trying to feign, trying to read her thoughts on the handcuffs matter. But genuinely, he was curious despite the fact he was teasing her to put her at ease. 

He hadn’t considered that they would use those ever, especially not for her first time. He didn’t mind if Y/N was vanilla which would have been his guess looking at her. Sure, she could and did talk back from time to time, something he adored, but he wouldn’t have pinged her as being kinky. But Y/N was unlike anyone he’s ever met. And if she wanted it, he’d be happy to oblige. 

“Oh god,” She said as she buried her head in her hands and laughed, “I’m so sorry, I can’t…I just…” She couldn’t even complete the thought she was laughing so hard. This broke him from his thoughts and completely focused fully back on her at this moment.

“You laughin' at me L/N?” He took this as a challenge. He puffed out his chest. This only made her giggle more as she looked up at him with a beaming smile. 

“I like Metallica,” she started as she continued to smile at him, “I also like the fact that I am the first person you’ve had here, for this…and I do like the handcuffs but not for tonight,” she said as she continued to smile at him but it shifted to a smirk at the end, “You’ve gotta ease me into it.” Eddie’s eyes went wide for a split second. Holy shit. She not only rose to the bait, she baited me back. This girl is going to be the end of me. She batted her eyes up at him and he realized in this moment of shock she had managed to get the upper hand, something he couldn’t allow. 

“Hey now”, he bent down on his knees, looking up at her. “Don’t get cocky”, he flipped her over on her back and pinned her hands down on the mattress. “That’s my job”, he paused for laughter. “Get it? Cocky?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she laughed as she looked up at him, “I get it alright. You’re so…I don’t even have words to describe you!” 

“Ah jeez you can’t think of any?” his eyes ran over her body. “Do I make you that nervous?”

“You don’t make me nervous,” she said honestly, “You make me happy and feel important and…you just make me feel like me. Sex…” She hesitated before shaking her head, “Sex makes me nervous!”. His demeanor faltered slightly. 

“Understood”, he said with the most seriousness he could portray, despite the fact that she had just made his heart explode. “ And we don’t have to do anything at all if you don’t want to-”

“No!” she said quickly, “it’s not that! It’s just…look I’ve made out with people but this is totally different from that,” Y/N said quickly, “Because I didn’t love any of them so this is different because…” She trailed off as she realized what she had admitted to. Sure the thought had been in her mind for a bit but she had never dared to say it out loud. Eddie almost missed that last part because he was concentrating so deeply but he heard it. He wanted to ask her if he had heard her correctly. That was his intention. To ask her and then if he heard her correctly. That was the plan.

But he knew he had heard her correctly. He knew it. And instead of replying, the words were moving too fast in his brain and it was all he could do to pull her into him and press his lips to hers. 

Y/N gasped as he did it, her heart racing before she melted into him, her hands coming to tangle in his hair as he laid her back down. It was only an instant before he was all over her, his lips touched every inch of her he could. He quickly slotted his knee in between her legs and pressed into her, the whine that fell from her mouth like heaven, drawing a sigh of his own. He moved away from her mouth as he pressed kisses down her jaw and to her neck. He was deliberate in his actions, strategically pressing kisses until he felt her grip on his hair tighten, earning a smirk from him. He began to abuse the spot, sucking and gently nipping at her skin as she muffled her sounds with one of her hands.

“Come on,” he coaxed as he pulled away ever so slightly to revel at the sight of her lust-blown eyes as she laid under him, “let me hear it all, baby. Just us, and you sound so pretty.” It was at that moment that he pressed his knee into her even more, drawing a whine from her that she didn’t hide as she gripped his black button-up which was still half done and revealed a couple of his tattoos. 

“Eddie,” she said softly as she looked up at him. 

“Yes, baby?” He prompted with a teasing grin as he leaned down to press more kisses to her neck, trailing lower to her collarbones. 

“Remember when you said it was my next adventure to find out how many tattoos you had?” She asked, trying her best to keep her voice steady as he continued on his course. He hummed in reply, and though he couldn’t see it, a smirk came to her face.

“How can you expect me to do that when you’re still dressed?” The chuckle that fell from his lips had her thighs pressing together, his knee still embarrassingly sandwiched between them so she knew he could feel her move. 

“Trying so hard to get me out of my clothes,” he said in a mock attempt to shame her as he pulled back a bit, “Too bad for you I’m a gentleman so…” He went to his knees once more and looked at her with pupils blown wide, “Ladies first.” Y/N’s smirk only grew as she got up from where she was laying down on the bed and first took off her fishnet tights, setting them aside with her jacket. She reached for the hem of her dress before turning her attention back to him. 

“Sure you don’t want to undress me?” The grin on his face would put the Cheshire cat to shame as he leaned back on his hands. 

“Nope,” he popped the p loudly as he leaned back even further, truly getting comfy, “I want to watch you strip for me.” Y/N slowly pulled up her dress without any more fanfare, his request being more than enough to do her in. She set aside her dress and was suddenly struck with nerves once more as she stood in the underwear she had carefully chosen. She went to meet Eddie’s eyes to get any sense of how he was feeling about it all and felt her breath hitch in her throat at the way he was looking at her.

She had people have crushes on her along the way. She’d made out with a few different people, enough to count on a single hand, and she had had sex before but no one, no one on earth had ever looked at her like Eddie was looking at her now. 

He pushed off of the bed and stood up, taking slow steps toward her as his eyes raked over every single inch of her bit by bit. When he came to stop in front of her, he gently took her arms which had come up on instinct to cover herself, and lowered them at her sides, allowing him a full view. She looked at him as he stared at her body, his one hand coming up to cup her bra-covered breast.

The piece she had chosen was mostly sheer with a few red lace flowers covering here and there and without an ounce of padding, something all too obvious as he ran his thumb over her nipple before giving her breast a soft squeeze. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he felt how soft she was underneath his hand. His eyes then met hers, his free hand coming up to rest on her cheek, “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Any semblance of the cocky arrogant character he had put on at his show and even the teasing tone she so commonly heard from him had left his voice. As she looked up into his eyes, all she could see was sheer adoration, idolatry even. 

“You’ve seen me in my underwear before,” She said with a soft giggle as she thought back to the night last summer their little group of friends had all stripped down to their underwear for a midnight Lover’s Lake swim. His expression didn’t change as he looked at her. 

“But this is different,” his voice was deep and so full of emotions she couldn’t name as he spoke, “You’re letting me see you, touch you…you’re letting me take you as mine and allowing me to become yours. This is…you, are everything.” Y/N looked at him with that same look of adoration he had been giving her written across her face. Their eyes met again before he pressed his lips to hers once more, softly this time, so gentle it was like he thought she was at risk of breaking. She kissed him firmer, more so to assure them both that they were here, really here, together than anything else. He kissed back with equally as much passion, his hand on her breast squeezing even tighter to match drawing a gasp from her. 

Before she knew it, his hands had come to her hips and he had picked her up, her only option was to wrap her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He let out a hum into their kiss as she did, his hands coming to hold her ass and giving it a squeeze. 

She gasped not only at the action but at the feeling of his cool rings against her heated body. He made his way to sit on the edge of the bed, resulting in Y/N sitting in his lap as he continued to kiss her. When he pulled away it was only so he could trail one of his hands up to her neck, kissing down the other side as he used his hand to manipulate her body exactly how he wanted it, listening to every little sound she made as an indication of what she wanted. He wanted to learn every single intricacy of her body, mind, and soul. He wanted to know her heart as well as he knew his own. He kissed her neck all over until he found a spot that made her breath hitch. He smiled as he did, beginning to gently nip at the skin there. When her fingers tangled into his hair and she let out a whimper that made him throb in his pants, he all but lost it. 

“You like it when I leave marks on you, pretty girl?” He asked between kisses, his hand that was on her neck coming to grasp her breast and gently pinch her nipple, drawing a moan from her. “Need words, baby.” 

“Yes,” She moaned out, fingers pulling in his hair as her head fell back when he went right back to it at her confirmation. “Feels amazing.” Eddie’s mind wandered momentarily and he pulled away causing her to whimper in complaint. He looked at her as she sat in his lap and a question came to his mind. 

“Y/N, has anyone ever eaten you out?” 

“No,” she confessed breathlessly as she looked at his swollen lips, ones she was sure matched her own. “I um…people have offered but I didn’t feel comfortable returning so I didn’t want them to so…but I’m ready now, with you.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he praised as he gently brought his lips to hers before pulling away and smiling at her, “All I want in the world right now is to eat you out without wanting anything back. I just want to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. We’ll have plenty of time to fully explore each other later if you ever want to. And if you don’t that’s ok, alright?” She looked at him and he watched as the tension visibly left her body as she leaned in to gently press her lips to his. As they kissed, her hands came down to the buttons on his shirt and she began to undo them. He let out a hum of approval as she did, pressing kisses to her neck and breasts as she continued until his shirt was fully unbuttoned. He untucked it from his pants when it was and opened it so she could better see him once he had. Y/N pulled away and her eyes ran up and down his body, reveling in the sight. She brought her hands up to where the shirt was on his shoulders and looked to him for permission to push it off his shoulders. He nodded, giving her all the confirmation she needed to expose his torso to her. 

She took this moment to look at the tattoos on his left shoulder, ones she hadn’t been paying that much attention to the first time she had seen him shirtless out of a need to be polite and not stare. But now, she really took them in. There were two of them on the left side of his chest, a spider and a demon. The spider was a bit higher up but they rested very close. She took a moment to trace her fingers over them as he watched her before she leaned in, pressing soft opened mouth kisses to them. Eddie’s hands both flew to her his as she felt him grind up into her, hard as a rock as she worshiped his body. She moved ever so slightly, pushing him to lay down on the bed so she could be on top, trailing kisses down his torso and to the little trail of hair that led down below- 

A little whimper of pain came from Y/N as Eddie’s hands tangled in her hair and pulled her up to straddle him. 

“Shit,” he swore as he moved his hands from her hair and gently cupped her face in his hands searching for any indication, “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry-”

“It’s ok,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss to his lips to stop his worries. She pulled away to find that the concern had partially eased and she felt a little bit bolder, leaning in to whisper to him, “Besides, I like having my hair pulled.” 

“Jesus,” He swore as she pulled back and smirked down at him beneath her, “You, Y/N L/N, are going to be the death of me.” Y/N chuckled and leaned down to continue as Eddie’s hands wound in her hair again, pulling much more deliberately this time. “Baby, this is about you, not me,” He scolded as he sat up, taking his hands out of her hair and running them down her body, “And I’m trying so hard to be gentle so make it easy for me pretty girl. Don’t you want to be good for me?” He knew it was a risk that Y/N might be against being spoken to in such a way but he watched as her eyes glazed over and her jaw dropped just a bit as she nodded. 

“Then do me a favor, pretty girl, and lay down for me.” She complied in a heartbeat, moving out of his lap and laying down on the bed. He smiled at her as he took a moment to admire her before kneeling beside the bed and adjusting her so she was exactly where he wanted her. 

“Spread your legs for me.” She did, a hint of embarrassment and anxiety coming up as she knew he may not like what he saw. She knew people who condemned girls for having bigger thighs and stretch marks and things like that and for a brief second, she let herself consciousness kick in, something Eddie seemed to be remarkably aware of. 

“Hey Y/N,” he said, drawing her gaze to look down on him, knelt between her legs, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want but I’m telling you now, you are the most stunning person I’ve ever laid hands or eyes on. Genuinely. You have nothing to be nervous about.” She melted as she could see the honesty in his eyes and again he watched her relax. He brought his hands up and slowly parted her thighs, loving the goosebumps that appeared on her skin as his rings came into contact with her body. He had to fight the moan that threatened to slip from his lips at the sight of the wet patch on her underwear with every fiber of his being. He pressed kisses all over her thighs, slowly working his way closer to her still-covered core, his hands finding their place on her hips as he held her on the bed. When he did finally get to her core, he pressed a soft kiss to her heat through her underwear, drawing a gasp from Y/N. 

“Do you want me to take them off?” He asked gently as his thumb ran circles on her lips. 

“Please,” she said, a smile coming to his face as she angled her hips in such a way that he could pull them off. He leaned up and ever so gently removed her underwear, setting them aside. 

“Holy shit,” He whispered as he looked at her. He knew he needed to be slow, to ease her into it, so he tried his best, repeating the kissing of her thighs, this time without her underwear there until finally he got to her core. He pressed a soft kiss to her clit and felt her hips move on instinct, keeping them pressed to the bed. He continued, slowly getting bolder until he slipped his tongue inside of her. 

Soft whimpers and moans fell from her consistently now as she relaxed into the pleasure he was so skillfully giving her. She felt so very at peace and was truly unable to do anything else but think about him between her legs. 

“Eddie-” She moaned out, the man letting out a moan of his own at the way she moaned his name. 

“Yes, baby?” he asked, briefly coming up for air. 

“Can you…can you also…”

“Y/N say the word and it’s yours,” He said as he leaned back to be able to look at her, “Anything you want baby.”

“Can you use your fingers too?” She asked sheepishly. The grin that lit up Eddie’s face instantly melted any worries she had about being needy. He replied with actions not words, instantly slipping two of his fingers inside of her causing her to gasp. 

From their previous encounters - though simple and brief ones - he knew that usually two was her comfort zone but if he was going to actually fit inside of her he wanted to use at least three. The general theory was if he started with two instead of one then three wouldn’t be such a stretch. 

That theory seemed to be working as she whimpered and moaned from the stretch beneath him. 

“You’re doing- so good,” he praised between moans as he put his mouth right back to work, sucking on her clit like his life depended on it and right now, it felt like it did. As much as he wanted to solely focus on her pleasure, he couldn’t help the little grind of his hips against the carpet every time she moaned. It slowly became a consistent rocking until he feared he was going to cum completely untouched just from eating her out. While he’d love to do that another day, tonight they had a plan and if she had gotten herself all ready for it, he refused to spoil it by finishing too early. He had been so distracted by his name coming out in moans from lips that he hadn’t even registered it was probably because he had been fucking three fingers into her for a while. Her hands were tangled so tightly in his hair and he quickly put two and two together on what was coming, leaning it to suck on her clit more as he continued doing exactly what he was doing until Y/N suddenly gasped and moved away from him with a little, “stop.” Eddie’s hands let go immediately and went into the air as he looked at her breathing heavily. 

“I'm sorry-“

“No, no,” she shook her head at him, moving back closer as her chest heaved, “I was just…I knew I was going to…squirt and I didn’t want it to be while you were-“ 

“Oh my god,” Eddie said as he pressed her down against the bed and climbed on top of her. “You were going to squirt and you stopped me!” 

“Yes!” She nodded, “I…most guys wouldn’t want to be anywhere near that!” 

“First off, yes they would,” Eddie nodded, his fingers already back between Y/N’s legs slowly slipping inside of her again, “and secondly, we already know I am not ‘most guys’.” He went back to what he had been doing before and watched as Y/N relaxed under him at his words. He liked this even more because of how at peace she seemed so he kissed his way down her body and got right back to it. Instead of changing anything he was doing, he continued right on with what he had been doing, putting his whole heart into it and reveling in the fact that he was able to get her like this. It didn’t take long until she was crying his name again, her eyes squeezing tightly closed and her fingers tugging at this hair with a vice. 

“Let go, baby,” he commanded and she did. Her release gushed over his face and he licked her clean with a fearless new to him. He had been with others before but never anyone who got this reaction out of him. It was only when she let out a little whimper of pain he realized she was already feeling overstimulated and he couldn’t have that…not yet. 

“How are you, pretty girl?” He asked as he came to rest over her again. She nodded as she looked up at him, a smile on her face as she pulled him in for a kiss. It was gentle and sweet and he felt his heart melt at her sweetness despite what they were doing. 

“So good to me,” He murmured as she pulled away to kiss down his neck. Her hands quickly found his belt buckle and began to mess with it, a pathetic-sounding whine coming from her when she realized she couldn’t figure out how to undo it. He chuckled as he batted her hands away before pressing a kiss to each one. 

“I got you,” He smiled and she returned it as he undid the buckle. He quickly set it somewhere on the floor to be forgotten about as he sat back on his knees. Y/N quickly sat up and ran her hand down to where his hands were on his zipper. 

“Can I?” She asked, looking up at him with complete adoration. He couldn’t deny her anything and nor would he ever want to so he just nodded and sat back, allowing her to do exactly as she wished. She unzipped his jeans with one hand, using her other hand to trail down his body, following the little trail of hair downward. As she finished unzipping his jeans and looked to him to get up and take them off, something he complied with, slipping them off and setting them next to his belt. Now in just his black boxers, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of anxiety. What if he couldn’t please her? What if he couldn’t manage to learn what she liked? He stood with his back facing to her for clearly too long as she was out of bed. 

“Hey,” Her voice was soft as she gently turned him to face her, her one hand coming up to turn his face to look at her as her free hand held his hand, “We can stop here if you want or do something else-”

“No,” He shook his head, “I want this. Really. I want you.” Y/N smiled at him and gently pressed a kiss to his lips before it became less gentle. She managed to move both hands to Eddie’s chest and he walked back until his back hit the door with a little gasp at how easily she had taken over. She chuckled as she began to press kisses down his chest, her one hand coming down to palm him gently over his boxers which made him gasp again. 

“Is this ok?” She asked as she pulled away from his neck for only a moment, taking in the sight of how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back against the door, his eyes shut in pleasure. 

“Yes,” he replied, a breathy moan following. “You can…you can take it out if you want.” Y/N didn’t reply with words, smiling as she did exactly that. She took it in for a moment, her eyes going wide as for the first time ever she processed the idea of him being inside her. She ran her thumb over his tip gently causing another groan to come from him as his hands grasped her hips with a force. He was so hard and she was impressed that he hadn’t finished yet but god did she feel bad for him. She wanted to please him so bad so that’s exactly what she set out to do. She stroked him gently, seeing what he liked and what got the best reaction from him, reveling in each sound he made. As soon as she started to get the hang of things, one of his hands moved from her hips and took hold of her wrist. Her eyes shot up to meet his which were now open and looking at her. 

“Sorry,” he said gently, “You were doing great…it’s just, I’m pretty worked up so I didn’t want to finish yet.” Y/N smiled at him and nodded 

“I get it…but I mean…you made me-”

“It’s different,” he said as he picked her up again and carried her back to his bed, laying her down gently, “Takes me longer to get back to it.” His choice of phrasing made her giggle and his focus snapped to her, “You’re really laughing at me? Now?” 

“Yes,” she replied as she shook her head. He chuckle and pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling away. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” He said as he leaned over and opened up one of the drawers near his bed. He easily found a condom and held it up to her, his expression going a bit more serious. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes,” she said as she took it from him and opened it much to his surprise, “I’m ready.” He watched with a smile as she pulled it out and rolled it onto him, careful as always with delicate hands before setting the wrapper aside. He wrapped her thighs around his waist and looked down at her. 

“Tell me if you need me to stop at any point, ok?” He said as he lined himself up. She nodded, words escaping her at this moment. Right as he was about to press in, he heard her speak. 

“Just…be gentle. Please?” He felt his heart melt at her plea. Eddie leaned down and kissed her so softly and whispered, “I promise,” as he began to press in. Y/N automatically tensed at the feeling, it was brand new to her and he pulled away from their kiss to whisper to her. 

“I know,” he said as he fought for his own breath as he waited with just the tip in her, “Just breathe for me, baby.” She nodded through a whimper and took in a shaky inhale, causing him to press into her a bit more, “There you go,” he praised. “Just keep breathing.” While she relaxed for a moment, she instantly tensed again as he started to move.

He instantly noticed and without a word brought his hand up to hold hers, pressing them both into the mattress with a gentle squeeze. The tiny gesture and his soft smile allowed her to breathe easily. Eddie smiled as he noticed the calm this brought Y/N, pressing another kiss to her lips as he slowly pushed into her, stretching her out. As he did, her eyes squeezed shut and her toes curled as a moan was forced from her lips. Their one set of hands parted and Y/N’s nails instantly find their way to Eddie’s back. He let out a shaky moan as she left marks he knew he’d love to see in the mirror tomorrow.

“Fuck. I’m not even halfway in and you’re already...so tight...fucking...damn.” Y/N squirmed under him as he attempted to let her adjust, his words causing her to want more than he was giving her. 

“Don’t squirm,” Eddie commanded in a dark stern hiss, causing Y/N to instantly stop moving and clamp around him, forcing a moan as Eddie buried his head into her neck. Interesting, he thought storing the information away for later. He pulled his head out of her neck and spoke gently, “I’m going to push the rest of the way in now, ok?” Y/N nodded at him and he began to slip in once again. 

“Fuck,” He swore as he bottomed out in one fatal thrust causing them both to gasp, “God Y/N, you feel so good.” She managed to give a little nod to him which instantly caused him to check in with her.  

“How are you feeling?” He asked, making sure to remain very still to give her time to adjust to the sensation.  

“It hurts just a tiny tiny bit,” She confessed, thankful that all the rumors she had heard about it hurting a lot the first time were just that. “I just feel...full.” He gave a little chuckle and began to pepper kisses all over her cheeks before kissing her lips again. 

“Well that’s good,” He smiled as he pulled away, “All I want is to make you feel good, baby. You were still a bit tense. Just relax now, pretty girl,” He purred as he ran his hand down her body, “I’ve got you and everything is going to be ok.” Seeing the genuine and kind look in his eyes made Y/N instantly melt and any trace of tenseness was gone. A dull ache soon settled between her hips and she found herself rolling them in an attempt to ease the pressure causing Eddie to let out a little hiss.

“Is that my sign to move?” He asked with a smile. 

“Please,” Y/N begged softly. Eddie can feel his heart melt at her little plea. Instantly, all he wanted to do was hold her and never let go but he quickly brought himself back to the moment at hand. He pulled out just a little before thrusting into her making her let out a little gasp of a moan at the feeling - his own moans echoing along with hers. Eddie then dropped his weight to his forearms on either side of her head which brought them even closer together. He slid both of his hands into her hair lightly as he quickened his pace causing more moans coming from the pair as they began to fully lose themselves in it all. 

Even through the pleasure of it all, Y/N could tell how remarkably gentle Eddie was attempting to be and it made her heart flutter. Despite his best efforts, Eddie naturally became a bit rougher by second nature, but as things speed up and the knot in Y/N’s stomach came closer to bursting, she don’t mind a bit. Her free hand tangled into his hair and pulled causing him to groan into her neck, nipping at the skin there enough to leave even more marks. Call him possessive, he was and wanted her and everyone else in this stupid fucking town to know that she was his now. 

His need to mark her up though was only overcome by his want to etch every expression that crossed her face into his memory, so he pulled away to watch her beautiful face contrast beneath him.

“Fuck,” He swore as she let out a cry as he hit what he assumed was her G spot, angling to make sure he kept that up, “So fucking pretty for me.” Y/N could tell how close Eddie was getting by the absolutely stunning expressions painted on his face and the little praises that he uttered. His one hand slowly found its way to her clit and he softly attempted a couple of different things to see what elicited the best response. After a particular movement, he felt her tighten around him with a high whine and he knew he'd hit the jackpot. He repeated the movement while continuing to thrust into her, causing Y/N to cry out in response as she felt the coil come this close to snapping. 

“Eddie, I’m going to-”

“I know baby, I know,” He moaned as she clenched around him, “Cum for me.” His command was all it took for her to come completely undone beneath him. Her high and the feeling of her gripping him like a vice was all it took to have him finding right along with her, burying his face into her neck to muffle the long whine that came from him as he pressed as deep as he could get into her. He continued to thrust into her, allowing the pair to ride out their highs before finally stilling. They both lay there, breathing heavily a mess of tangled limbs and sweat, glowing with love. Finally, when he caught his breath, Eddie pulled away enough that he could see Y/N’s face. 

She was always beautiful but damn did she look good post-orgasm. He wanted to burn the sight of her into his brain forever.

“How are you feeling, pretty baby?” He asked as he ran his hands through her hair and cupped her cheek. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and Eddie swore he died and went to heaven as she looked up at him, the love in her eyes and smile on her face all too innocent considering what they just did. 

“So good,” Y/N replied, her voice high and soft, music to Eddie’s ears, “How are you?”

“So good,” he echoed back to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I know I just like…popped your cherry and all,” he smiled as she giggled at the expression, “But I still can’t believe you’re real.”

“I’m real,” Y/N giggled as she flicked his forehead, making him beam, “That real enough for you?”

“Yeah that works,” he said as the pair fell into giggles making them both realize Eddie was still very much inside. “Oh shit,” He swore, “I’m gonna pull out now, is that ok?” 

“Mhm,” Y/N hummed as she gave his hand which was still held in hers a little squeeze. He gave her a small smile as he pulled out both of them letting out little moans as he did. He instantly wrapped her into his arms, holding her so close to him as she buried her head into his chest. She had never felt so safe in the arms of another person before, wanting nothing more than to hold him forever. 

“You did so well,” He praised her, “You know that?” He pressed kisses onto the top of her head as she stayed buried in his chest. 

“Thank you,” came her soft reply.

“You don’t have to thank me for praising you baby,” He chuckled.

“No, for…for everything,” she said as she pulled away ever so slightly so they could look at each other. Her eyes were so sleepy as she looked at him but the adoration was still written all over both of their faces. 

“Oh Y/N,” he said as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “You don’t need to thank me for that at all, baby. I loved it. I really loved it.” 

“Me too,” she replied as she beamed up at him, shifting ever so slightly and grimacing. It was that little grimace that reminded Eddie of what needed to come next. 

“Baby, I’m gonna get stuff to get you cleaned up, okay?” He asked as he gently pulled away. 

“M’kay,” she nodded as she looked at him, “But don’t be gone too long.”

“Getting all clingy on me already?” He teased as he slowly slipped out of bed and slipped off the condom, throwing it away before looking back at her, his eyes going wide.

“Fuck,” He swore as he took in the sight of her sprawled out in his bed completely fucked out. The very worst part of him had never wanted to take a damn Polaroid so bad but his top priority was getting her cleaned up and comfy. 

“Weren’t you going somewhere?” Y/N teased as she realized the effect she was having on him, rolling onto her side to give him a different view. He chuckled at her and gave her ass a little swat as he left the room.

“Little brat,” he reprimanded as slipped on his boxers, “And here I was trying to be chivalrous.” 

“Chivalry is dead Munson,” She said as he walked into the bathroom and wet a towel with warm water, ringing it out before heading back into the bedroom.

“Oh yeah?” He asked as he gently ran the towel over her body, cleaning her up, “Then what, pretty girl, would you call this?” 

“Common courtesy after that,” Y/N giggled as she looked up at him. He shook his head and gently moved the towel to clean between her legs, lifting her one leg as he did and pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. 

“I don’t know,” He teased as he set the towel aside when he was done, “I think I’m a pretty chivalrous guy.” 

“You are,” she said with all genuineness. 

“Anything else I can get for you?” He asked softly as he cupped her cheek again, “Water? Food?”

“Clothes?” Y/N asked as she looked down at her still very naked body. 

“Right,” Eddie said as he got up and walked over to his closet before thinking better of it and coming back over to her, “Wanna come pick out your pjs?” 

“I get to pick?” The joy in Y/N’s voice, as she sat up with a little wince, made Eddie’s heart melt. God I lo… his thoughts trailed off with a little pang in his heart as he made his way over to her. 

“Mhm,” He nodded as he picked her up bridal style in his arms making her smile, carrying her over to his closet, “Take your pick.” She looked through his little t-shirt collection before looking at the Metallica one he had been wearing the second time she had met him. 

“That one,” she said with a point. He smiled and nodded as he set her back down on the bed, grabbing it out for her and bringing it over to her. 

“A good choice,” He said as he watched her slip it over her head. 

“You wore it when Jude first brought me over to your house to pick up their drugs,” Y/N said as she searched for her underwear. “Can you bring me my underwear?” Eddie was frozen and didn’t even register her request. “Eddie?”

“You remember what I was wearing?” He asked softly as he looked at her. 

“Of course,” she nodded, “I thought you looked so handsome. You are so handsome-” Y/N couldn’t even get her thought out before he pressed his lips to hers, pressing her into the mattress again before he pulled away. 

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish chuckle as he wrapped her in his arms again, “I don’t know what came over me-”

“Don’t apologize,” she said with a smile as she pulled him fully into bed with her, “Just stay here with me?”

“Always,” he replied and he meant it with every fiber of his soul. The pair curled up together, limbs tangled, needing to be so close and neither one had ever slept so well in their lives as they did that night. 

So that's the fic! Yay! 10k words bby! As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are throughly appreciated!

[kooqitas]

— beer & brother's friend ... ★

#pairing: seungcheol X reader. #synopsis: your brother goes out to buy fast food, leaving you and seungcheol alone at home. #tags: pwp, vaginal sex, fingering, kitchen sex, spit, creampie. #notes: my first story with seventeen i hope you like it guys!!! #wc: 1,3k

is almost 8pm when you listen your brother laughs so loud, so you go to the kitchen, noticing the all beers bottle that was in the table.

"oh, really guys, did you even call me?"

the first thing that you noticed was how handsome seungcheol looked.

you brother, vernon, and seungcheol was friends a few years, since you and your brother living together, sometimes seungcheol go to the apartament and drink some beers ou watches some movies with vernon.

and yes, sure, cheol always being handsome, and you know that a few months ago he started the gym, you always see his posts on instagram, but damn, his so fucking hot personally.

"so, the princess came to join the commoners" seungcheol played with you.

"i want, but no one invited me..." you pretend a sad face.

"bla bla bla" vernon said. "it even feels like i need to call you for drink"

maybe now, seeing that who is in your home, you probably would dress better, like, the small shorts and thin shirt made you so... basic.

whatever, you take a beer and sit on table with the two guys.

sitting next to cheol, you smell his perfume, damn, he's unbearably hot! it's not like you didn't already know this, but in the last few months he was pushing the limits, having the guy so close to you was making you easily horny.

you drank A LOT a little, the alcohol making you burn every time seungcheol's knee touched yours. the three of you would talk about anything, your brother being visibly the only sober one there.

"i think that i wont see you since you started dating, how's going?" seungcheol questioned, taking a beer in his lips.

"she broke up, his boyfriend cheated her... with her friend" vernon laughed, your brother really gave you all emotional support, but now his just laughs a lot.

"shut up!"

"oh, is real?" cheol questioned. "i'm so sorry for that!"

"she don't care" your brother said again. "she cheated him back... with his brother."

"WITH WHOM? oh god!"

"guys... i'm still on this table..." you said.

"and i'm not!" vernon joked. "i'm taking the fries, give me a second"

so your brother go to cooktop, leaving you and seungcheol alone.

seungcheol had a look that you couldn't identify, but it gave you goosebumps, the truth is that you always had a crush on your brother's friend, but for obvious reasons you had never tried anything, it didn't even seem like something reciprocated.

but seungcheol was so fucking hot, you definitely wanted to kiss him.

"oh... his brother?" he asked, a kinda unbeliever.

"is not a big deal, ok? his fucked with my friend, i just... go deeper... isn't my fault, his brother fucked me too, like, i'm not haved sex alone..."

"yeah, sure, i understand..." his said.

"oh, really?"

he approached, whispering in you ear.

"sure, like, if i was his brother, i wanted to fuck with you too... actually, wouldn't even wait for him to cheat you for that."

cheol laughs, squeezing your thigh in a less than affectionate way, his eyes are dark.

fuck, he was hitting on you?

"guys, the fries burned..." vernon laughed.

"oh, i'm really hungry now..." you said, looking to cheol. 

yes, maybe the food that you want its other...

"i can go to the mc if you want!" cheol sayed to you and vernon.

"oh, definitely NO, you are drunk. i'll go, just let me change de clothes."

your brother went to the room, and seungcheol's dark gaze stayed on you, along with the unchaste caress on your thigh, which rose even further towards the hem of the tiny shorts you were wearing.

vernon came back, saying he would return in 20 minutes and asking you not to break anything in the house.

when your brother left, the amount of dirty thoughts that passed through your mind scared you, you knew you found seungcheol attractive, but wanting to take off your clothes and lie on the table asking him to fuck you wasn't the best thing to think about right now.

you got up, going to get another beer from the fridge, but you were scared by the large body that pressed you against it.

"c-cheol, wh-?"

"tell me that your pretty whore face was a request to me, please!"

"my-my?"

"i’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long... and when i found the courage to admit it, you started dating." he laughed with a laugh that bordered on despair.

what do you mean he wanted to fuck you?

“vernon could come home in any min-”

"i promise to be quick, i know you're wet, hm?" he said kissing your neck, pressing his hips into your waist, making you feel his cock. "i've been like this since i saw you enter that damn kitchen, i planned to wait for your brother to sleep so i could come to your room but..." he kissed your jaw, and you were already overcome by lust. "let me have you now!"

you didn't respond, not verbally, you just took his hand down your shorts, showing the damage your own thoughts had done to you.

he was agile in placing two fingers inside your wet hole, making you moan at the sensation.

"are you already open for me, kitty? if you're a good girl now, when your brother sleeps, i promise to come into your room and make you cum in my mouth... but now let me fuck you with my dick, hm? "

"f-"

you don’t even know how he was so fast, but in the next second you felt his cock inside you, spreading you open as he stuck his tongue in your mouth.

his tongue tasted like beer, and you moaned when it came into contact with yours at the same time as every inch of him entered you further.

"tight pussy, but accepting me so well..." he said before thrusting once, the shock of his balls hitting you.

“fuck” you moaned, closing your eyes, planting your nails on his arm. the mix of lust and burning.

"no, princess, look that... you're taking me so well..." he forces you to look down, increasing the speed of his thrust as he lifts your two legs, intertwining them with his thighs.

you are literally open to seungcheol, he pushes you against the fridge while he fucks you, seeming to take away all the time he wanted you, you feel his vision get blurred with so much information.

"i've wanted to fuck you for so long, you finally broke with your pathetic boyfriend."

he pushes you further against the fridge, lowering the strap of your shirt and exposing one of your nipples, seungcheol spits on one of them before starting to stimulate it with his fingers, using the spit to lub.

"you're always going to give me that cunt now, right? so delicious..."

he kisses you, and then begins to stimulate your clit, sloppy circles taking you to heaven and hell at the same time.

"i'll-"

"please smear my dick all over with your cream, love!"

the touch on your clit becoming firmer as he stuck his tongue back into your mouth, and you came..

the laugh he gave when he felt your cum was one of the most exciting things you had ever heard in your life.

"hold on a little, princess." he said kissing his neck and he didn't stop thrusting into you.

and then he came. filling you completely with his cum.

seungcheol continues thrusting for a few seconds, his cum making his dick slide even better.

"we n-need to stop, my brother..."

"oh right." he releases you. "can we talk about this later?" he questions when he sees you heading towards the bathroom, you nod.

and it takes less than two minutes for vernon to get into the house.

shit, you guys forgot to clean the floor.

⸝⸝⸝

🍰 support me on ko-fi

[floralcyanide]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴅ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ

callum turner x fem!reader (nsfw)

In which a chance reconnection with your ex, Callum Turner, brings you to his hotel room- and he talks you through more than just your breakup.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, language, female anatomy described, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, mutual orgasm, love confessions

✣ word count: 2.7k

✣ author’s note: I wrote half of this weeks ago and just finished it. hope ya'll enjoy ((:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | the death of peace of mind - bad omens

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

The last thing on your mind today was running into your ex, Callum Turner, yet here you are. 

He’s sitting adjacent to you in the script reading session for your new movie- and you had no idea of the cast until today, so seeing him was an absolute surprise. You try your best to remain neutral and keep yourself from looking at him, but you find yourself glancing up at him frequently. He looks great, of course, which makes it hard not to stare. You remind yourself Callum is an ex for a reason and focus on your turns to read the script. Callum had broken up with you because he had found himself unsure of his feelings and hadn’t elaborated further on it before leaving. So, you have struggled for a while with self-confidence and identity. It’s not entirely his fault, but not knowing how he felt for you during your relationship did something to you emotionally and mentally. 

When the reading concluded, you tried your best to make a clean getaway, but Callum’s long strides and quick maneuvering skills got him to you in the hallway in record time. A gentle hand is placed on your shoulder in the sea of cast and crew exiting.

“Long time no see,” Callum flashes his brilliant smile at you once you turn to face him.

“Yeah,” you half-smile, “Sure has.”

Callum stares intently into your eyes for a few seconds longer than usual before he notices he hasn’t responded. He visibly shakes his head out of his mess of thoughts, “How have you been?”

“Could be better,” you shrug, “But I’ll be fine, always am.”

You keep your answers brief, with as little to go on as possible. 

“Would you like to meet at my hotel for coffee later? There’s a cafe in the lobby that’s pretty good,” Callum scratches the back of his neck, “I just need to talk to you about something and would rather do it somewhere other than the corridor,” he laughs nervously.

“Oh,” you purse your lips, momentarily looking down at your feet before answering, “I don’t know, Callum. Is it really a good idea for us to talk outside the set?”

Callum clears his throat, “Well. I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually. See, I didn’t tell you everything when we broke up about how I felt, and I think you deserve to know, ‘s all.”

You sigh, “I suppose knowing wouldn’t hurt, even though it’s been a year already. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

“I was afraid,” Callum admits, “I thought you hated me.”

You frown, “I don’t hate you, Callum. I promise.”

Callum brightens, “So you’ll meet me at the coffee shop? Tomorrow, maybe? Ten in the morning?”

“Fine,” you agree, “Tomorrow it is.”

Callum gives you the hotel’s address and leaves you in the hallway, turning as he walks away to wave goodbye.

You’re laying in bed that night staring at the ceiling. You still love Callum; don’t get yourself wrong. But if he didn’t feel the same, why entertain it? Besides, it seemed like he never really felt that way for you, and that’s why he dipped last year. At the same time, however, you don’t know that for sure because Callum didn’t tell you much. You guess you’ll find out more tomorrow. You roll over and will yourself to sleep.

You definitely need the caffeine upon waking the following day from tossing and turning all night. You get ready and take a cab from your apartment to the hotel Callum is staying at, nervous the entire ride there. When you arrive at the cafe, Callum is sitting on a couch by the window, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, waiting for you. He hopes you come and don’t change your mind.

“You made it!” Callum grins as you walk in, and he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. 

Your entire body burns at the contact, but you try your best to push your feelings aside, “Of course I did.”

The two of you order and return to the couch, where you hesitantly sit beside Callum, his thigh touching yours. You find it familiar and comforting but, at the same time, very nerve-wracking. 

“So,” Callum turns to face you, “Do you mind me explaining everything? I promise you don’t owe me your time; I just feel you deserve to know why I left.”

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, “In fact, I’d feel better hearing it.”

“Alright,” Callum nods, “To be honest, I was scared. I had feelings for you I had never felt for anyone before, and I didn’t know how to handle them.”

You focus on Callum’s words, carefully turning them over in your head, “I understand.”

“I loved you, you know,” Callum rubs his palms on his thighs, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, “And I fucked it up.”

You stare at him wordlessly, unsure of how to respond.

“Still do, actually. Love you.”

Your ears begin to ring, and you almost don’t hear your names being called for your coffee orders until Callum stands up and walks over to retrieve them. He loved you? Still loves you, rather? Your facial expression- one of shock- is still apparent when Callum sits back down next to you and offers you your drink.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I just didn’t expect that.”

“You don’t have to return those feelings, by the way. I just needed to tell you that’s how I felt then and still feel now.”

“Despite leaving me a little lost a year ago, a part of me still loves you too, Cal. But I don’t know what to do with that.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything if that’s what you wish.”

“How do I know you really love me?” you blurt, shocking yourself with your words.

Callum puts a hand on your knee, “You can trust me, or I can prove it to you.”

Clutching your untouched drink in your hand, you wonder what he could mean by that.

“Prove it how?”

“You know a thing or two about that, I think,” Callum says suggestively, and your body burns like fire again.

You scoff, “I do. But how do I know you won’t just up and leave again after? Hmm?”

“I won’t,” Callum grabs your unoccupied hand, “I won’t this time, I promise. I don’t think I could leave you again.”

“Okay, then,” you admit defeat, “Show me just how much you really love me, Mr. Turner.”

Callum leads you to the elevator, where he presses the floor button and stands beside you, eyeing you up and down. When the doors close, he pulls you to his side as he finishes his coffee. You rest your head on his arm, sipping your own drink. Callum’s hand grips your waist, his touch hot even through your clothes. You're nearly shaking with nerves when you reach the top floor. The two of you had your go-arounds while together, of course. But it was never anything emotionally charged. You’re hoping Callum really does show you how much he loves you this time and doesn’t leave you hanging. He lets you follow him to his room, where he fumbles to unlock the door with his phone. Callum heads to the windows to close the drapes, his back muscles rippling under his shirt, much to your delight. He turns around and catches your gaze, maintaining eye contact with you as he returns to where you stand. Callum wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to him after you sit your coffee down. He is taller than you, so you have to look up at him when standing so close. A closed-lip smile spreads on his face as he takes in your features. Callum pushes a stray strand of hair out of your face before leaning in.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I do want this. Prove it to me.”

Callum captures your lips with his finally, and everything negative you felt about your relationship falls away. The comfort you’ve always found in him flows back into you as he guides his tongue along your bottom lip. Callum’s hands find your hair, where they tangle themselves in your locks for leverage. You allow him to explore your mouth softly as if it was his first time in uncharted territory. Your arms are around him, and your palms are settled on his back as he slowly moves the two of you over to the giant bed in the middle of the suite. You sit on the edge of it as Callum pulls his shirt off. He’s a little more muscular than the last time you saw him. You drink in his broad shoulders and toned chest, his thick biceps resting by your head as his fists dig into the mattress on either side of your legs. Callum is leaning over you, his demeanor shifting to something more dominant. He kisses you again before his hand moves to your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“Go lay on the pillows and get ready for me.”

A surge of excitement rushes through your veins as you nod, moving backward to where the pillows sit at the top of the bed. You peel off your shirt and jeans, kicking them off the side of the bed onto the floor where your shoes are haphazardly lying. Callum climbs over you, taking in the sight of you. He lays beside you, patting his spread, underwear-clad thighs for you to sit. You oblige, his chest pressed to your back as you relax into his embrace. Callum’s large hands rub over your hips and legs, his skin hot against yours. He buries his nose into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up your throat. Callum then lightly traces your jaw with his tongue before he reaches your ear, nibbling the shell of it. His hands travel from your thighs to your hips, all the way up your sides, until they reach your covered breasts. He squeezes them as he sucks a mark behind your ear, out of sight. You squirm lightly in his lap, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin. Moving your hair out of the way from your ears, Callum continues his assault of bites on the back of your neck as his fingers slip underneath the cups of your bra. You hum as his fingers toy with your nipples, your head tossed back against his shoulder as he does so. This gives him more access to your neck, where he leaves open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You feel him grow hard against your tailbone as he twists and rubs your sensitive nubs, eliciting moans from you.

“I miss the way you say my name,” Callum whispers in your ear, letting one of his hands travel back down to your stomach, where he slips a hand beneath the band of your underwear, “Say it.”

“Callum,” you gasp as his fingers ghost your heat, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Just like that, doll,” Callum grins into your shoulder, where his lips press to your skin.

He helps you out of your underwear, pulling it down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. Callum tosses one of your legs over his thigh, giving him easier access to you. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra, throwing it off the side of the bed.

“Kind of unfair that I’m the only naked one,” you frown.

“Be patient, I want to play with you first,” Callum kisses your cheek.

He prods your lips open with two of his fingers, allowing you to suck them in. You lave your tongue around them, coating them with your spit enough for Callum to be satisfied, “Good girl,” he coos.

He then gently circles your clit with his two slicked fingers, and your hips buck involuntarily. He uses his other arm to press you firmly against him. Callum continues to play with the bundle of nerves before letting a finger test your entrance to gauge how wet you’ve become. He’s able to slip a finger inside without struggle, curling it against the familiar spot that makes you groan. As he adds another finger, you grip Callum’s arm as his fingertips massage your g spot. 

“Callum, please,” you whine.

“Please, what?” Callum feels himself getting painfully harder against your back at the sounds you’re making, “Gotta use your words.”

“Show me how much you love me,” you beg, “Fuck me already.”

“Impatient, are we?” Callum smirks before removing his fingers from you and putting them in his mouth this time, relishing the wetness of your cunt, “God, the way you taste,” he moans.

Callum moves you over and off his lap so he can remove his pants and underwear before hovering over you. He braces himself on his arms on either side of your head, bringing his face to yours, “Are you sure you want this?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his face and looking him in the eye, “I want this.”

“Not that your begging wasn’t enough; I just needed to hear you say it,” he jokes, lining himself up to your entrance.

You playfully smack his chest before digging your nails into it as he pushes inside you slowly. You wrap an arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair. Callum fully seats himself inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Callum focuses on breathing properly, as your clenching around him makes it hard not to pound you into the mattress. You wiggle your hips a little, letting him know he could move. Callum holds your hips up, moving your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, gaining a steady rhythm. The noises you let out just urge Callum to go faster and harder as he kisses along your thighs.

“I love you,” Callum says, biting down on your thigh and causing you to yelp, which makes him grin.

“I love you too,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping his biceps for leverage.

“Do you believe me when I say it now?” Callum bites his lip, feeling your walls clenching harder around him.

You’re close, and he can feel it. He reaches between your bodies and presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles against it.

“Yes,” you say, almost illegible, “Fuck, I believe you, Cal.”

“Good,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.

Your fingernails dig into his muscles as you feel yourself about to let go, your stomach tightening into a knot. Callum feels his orgasm creeping up as he snaps his hips faster against your ass, his grip on your thighs almost bruising. Your orgasm hits suddenly, like a tsunami of pleasure taking over your senses. Your body shakes as Callum’s own climax surges through him, your convulsing cunt milking his cock. You’re both gasping for air as Callum lets your back fall against the bed as he pulls out, collapsing next to you. 

“That was…”

“Amazing?” Callum turns his head to look at you, 

“Yeah,” you’re quick to pull the duvet over you as your sweat cools on your skin, “Better than any time before, honestly.”

“Agreed,” Callum puts an arm behind his head to rest on, “I’m still sorry for not telling you how I felt. I didn’t really know what it was at the time.”

“It’s okay now, Cal,” you roll over on your side, putting a hand on his chest, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Callum kisses the top of your head, “Okay. I won’t.”

The next day, when the script is read over again, tensions are definitely not as high. You don’t struggle as much with your lines, and being around Callum is easier. You’re glad it all worked out; maybe this time, it’ll last without confusion.

[disaster-writer]

Teenage Dirtbag (Part 2/3)

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Summary: You and Rodrick Heffley grew up right next door to each other. You’re best friends and nothing could ever change that… at least that’s what you’ve always thought.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I broke part 2 up into two so there will now be three parts to this fic

Part 1

“This is so weird,” Greg whispered to David and Rowley, both currently sitting on either side of him, all three of them crowded around the TV as Greg played Twisted Wizard “Are they still doing it?”

Rowley glanced behind him, “Yeah…” he answered uneasily, “Did something happen?”

"Not that I know of," David shrugged.

"Me neither."

All three of them turned around again, the sight sending a chill down their spines.

It should have been just like any other Saturday. Rodrick grounded as usual. You coming over to hang out with Rodrick despite his punishment. Greg and his friends playing video games. And both parents out with Manny.

Only it wasn't like any other Saturday. Because instead of choosing to hang out in Rodrick's room or torturing the kids (which tended to be your only hobbies you could think of when one of you was grounded), both you and Rodrick were sitting on either side of the couch, an entire cushion apart and stiff as a board. You guys weren't talking-- in fact Greg could have sworn you guys haven't even looked at each other since you showed up. All you two were doing was watching the video game as well. It was so out of character for you both that the boys were completely creeped out... they were starting to wish you two were all over each other like usual just to have that sense of normalcy... even if that meant hunting them down and beating on them or making fun of them.

It was your fault really. You thought you could just show up to the Heffley's and hang out with Rodrick, pretending that nothing happened last night.

Turns out a teenage boy can't just pretend that they didn't witness their best friend dancing around completely naked. And turns out you can't just pretend your best friend didn't see you in all your glory.

You played with the rings on your fingers, fidgeting to try and distract yourself from the elephant in the room. Should you bring it up and try to laugh it off? Try and carry on as if he saw nothing? Maybe a subtle joke about making sure your blinds were closed before getting changed?

Fuck-- nothing this mortifying has ever happened to you before. 

You and your friends were practically known for being too stupid to be embarrassed about anything. There was nothing that you guys ever did that kept you from showing your faces around school. Not the time that Rodrick made a complete fool of himself at Heather's Sweet 16 and still having the audacity to ask her out right after, not the time you and the rest of Löded Diper were hanging out backstage during an assembly and you told the guys you thought Mr. Andrews was hot without knowing that the overhead mic's were on and the entire assembly heard you, and not even the time you and the guys delivered a presentation high out of your fucking minds.

But for some reason, even though Rodrick was the only other person involved, you felt liked you'd never be able to live this down.

"Cool!" David exclaimed, "My mom just texted me that she can take all of us out for ice cream right now!"

"Really!?" Rowley shouted excitedly.

"Awesome! Let's go!" Greg said, pausing the game and throwing the controller on the ground as the boys then ran for the door and got their shoes on before running outside to meet your mom.

And now... that makes two.

You both continued to sit awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs and shifting in your seats.

You don't know how much time passed before Rodrick was the one to break the silence.

"So..." you pursed your lips, waiting for the bomb, "You never told me you had a tattoo on your hip."

At that you folded in on yourself, burying your face in your hands, "Let's not do this," you groaned out, words muffled by your hands. "It's too embarrassing."

"It wasn't that bad," Rodrick tried to offer.

"Yes it was. That was completely humiliating last night."

“It could’ve been worse.”

”Yeah? How?” You grumbled into your hands.

”I mean…” he trailed off, picking at a pink thread from his jeans, “You could… have the body of a sixty year old…”

You paused, “How would I— y’know what? Nevermind,” you stood up, “I’m gonna go. It’s too weird, maybe when we’ve both had some space—“

”No!” Rodrick grasped your wrist, stopping you short, “You don’t need to leave— I’m telling you it wasn’t that bad!”

You set your jaw, looking down at him. The sudden nervousness that radiated from him was palpable as he broke eye contact, glanced down at where his hand wrapped around your wrist and quickly let go.

”See! Right there!”

”Right there what!?” He yelled back, staring at his lap with a growing blush.

”This is weird and I’m going—“ 

Just as you took another step Rodrick shot up from his seat, “No it’s not! We just need to do something normal—once we hang out like normal we’ll forget all about it!”

”Like what?” You crossed your arms, looking at him skeptically.

”Like- like,” you watched as Rodrick frantically searched his brain for an idea, “We can go to the arcade!”

”You’re grounded dumbass,” you rolled your eyes.

”Susan’s not gonna be home for at least another three hours. We can go for two and be back and she’ll never know!”

You shifted on your feet, weighing your options. You could both get in trouble yes, but it did beat being bored at home or spending the next three hours in uncomfortable silence.

And you suppose he had a point. The event was still fresh and was just weighing heavily on your minds. Time would heal the awkward air and getting back into the swing of things would hopefully ease the awkwardness.

Pretty soon you’d both forget the entire thing even happened.

——

”What are you doing?”

Rodrick had pulled away so quickly from his blinds you would have thought they had burned him.

”Nothing you little shit— what are you doing in my room!” He had spat at Greg who stood awkwardly by his steps.

”Mom says dinner is ready— are you spying on (Y/N) or something?”

”No,” his voice cracked to which he quickly cleared, “Get out!” He scrambled to yank his shoe off which he had then chucked at his younger brother.

”Okay!” Greg yelled before stumbling down the stairs.

Rodrick Heffley was convinced that he was losing his mind. 

It had been five nights since he had witnessed you dancing around naked in your bedroom. 

In other words, it had been five nights checking to see if he could catch you dancing around naked again.

He couldn’t help it. He was a teenage boy that had never seen a girl naked that wasn’t in a magazine or online.

And until recently he didn’t even believe you had all those same… parts as the girls he stared at.

But you did. And he saw them. And he came to the fast realization that he wanted to see them again.

And gingerly, for the umpteenth time that night, he had stuck his fingers into his blinds and pulled it down to peak through them.

You were still sitting in bed in your Löded Diper t-shirt, trying to catch up on what he assumed to be late homework.

He had truly fooled himself into thinking things could go back to normal. You had always been one of the guys— an honorable member of Löded Diper, you were practically the manager at this point. You had both grown up together and probably spent more time with each other than with your own respective siblings. 

It’s been five days, he should be past this by now.

But he wasn’t.

Instead he started to notice all the things that made you a girl— an actual breathing girl that wanted to talk to him.

He had never noticed just how girlish your laugh was, it typically ended with a snort to which he would always scrunch his nose at but as it turned out the melodic laughter that preceded those snorts was actually quite… cute— in a way.

Even the simple gesture of you brushing your hair back behind your ear had made— what was the saying? Well, whatever it was it made him feel like moths were chewing at his stomach lining.

Or even—

“Rodrick!”

His blinds snapped shut upon removing his fingers, “I’m coming!” He called back in annoyance before stomping downstairs.

Making his way into the dining room, he found his family had already started eating without him— not that he really gave a shit. He wordlessly plopped down in his seat and picked up his fork.

He stabbed the meat on his plate and took a bite out of it, not bothering to cut it, instead opting to let the rest hang off the fork.

His mom had served chicken francese tonight.

Chicken francese was your favorite.

Rodrick grimaced— even chicken was making him think of you.

”What? You don’t like it?” Susan asked with a huff at Rodrick’s reaction.

”What? No—“

”No I don’t want to hear it. If you don’t like it that much then you might as well take it to (Y/N). At least she appreciates my cooking.”

“I can go over to (Y/N)’s? Even though I’m grounded?” He suddenly asked with a mouth full of food and an eagerness that was making Frank raise his eyebrow. He looked about ready to jump out of his seat and run out the front door.

“No!” Susan snapped, affronted, “Eat your dinner. And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Rodrick seemed to deflate, picking up the fork he had dropped onto his plate and taking another bite.

A silence fell over the family, the sounds of metal scratching against ceramic and chewing filling the space.

That was until Frank cleared his throat, “So, uh, speaking of (Y/N)…” Rodrick’s head snapped up towards his father in terror, and he shifted nervously… there was no way he actually knew what had happened right? “You two seem closer…” he trailed off awkwardly.

Rodrick glanced at Greg who started snickering— did he know something? Did he tell their dad he had seen you naked? Or maybe that he caught him peeping on you through his blinds before?

He kicked him hard under the table, making the plates and cutlery rattle atop the table.

“Ow!” Greg cried.

”Rodrick!” Susan reprimanded.

”We’ve always been close,” Rodrick answered, ignoring his mom, “Everyone knows that,” he said with an awkward laugh.

”Yeah, but l mean recently—“

”Recently what? Nothing’s changed recently, everything’s the same,” he rambled, scratching the back of his ear with a blush he prayed no one saw.

”Okay, look,” Frank lowered his voice, leaning towards his son, “I wanted to have this conversation in private but your mother—“

”(Y/N) is like family so I think this should be discussed as a family.”

Rodrick’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, he glanced at Greg who looked like it was Christmas morning.

”Are you and (Y/N) dating?” Susan asked.

Greg immediately started laughing.

”What? No—“ he looked back and forth between his parents, “It’s (Y/N)— that would be gross, y’know, ew—“ he spluttered, though not as convincingly as he would have a week ago.

”Are you sure?” Frank asked— he clearly wasn’t buying it. “Because your mother brought up a good point the other day. Did something happen between you two over the summer when you went on vacation with your friends?”

Okay, now he was confused.

”Huh?” 

“Because it’s okay if it did,” Susan interjected, “We all love (Y/N), right Greg?”

”Yeah, I guess,” he grumbled with a shrug, stabbing his own chicken.

”Nothing happened on vacation,” Rodrick answered honestly— why would they even think that?

”You’re sure?” Frank asked, “Because you two seem to be a lot closer since that trip.”

Rodrick had to disagree. Nothing happened on that trip. It was mainly spent at Ben’s family’s lake house where you all spent every night getting drunk and every morning hungover. And sure maybe he learned a lot about you and his other friends during that trip as everyone had loose lips due to the alcohol— and okay maybe there was that one really drunken night you and Rodrick ended up getting stuck in the bathroom because the door got jammed but neither of you could remember that night anyway, it was mostly the morning when you both woke up cuddling in the bathtub that—

Rodrick’s face flushed with the memory. 

And that had never happened before, but now the thought of you cuddled up to him with nothing more than a few layers of clothing separating the two of you…— and now he was thinking about you naked again.

Frank looked to Susan at his reaction. It seemed he was getting somewhere.

”Rodrick?” He questioned, trying to get his son to look at him.

His eyes snapped to his father’s as his mouth gaped like a fish, he suddenly shot out of his chair.

”God— what’s with the third degree! We’re just friends” He exclaimed, shrilly, grabbing his dinner and fork, “I plead the fifth!” He was then running back upstairs to his room, leaving his family in stunned silence.

Susan nodded, sure of herself now, “Frank, I think it’s time you had the talk with him—“

”Uh, can I go?” Greg asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

”No, finish your dinner.”

”But Rodrick left—“

”He’s going through a lot of emotions right now, you’ll understand when you’re his age,” she turned back to her husband.

”I’m pretty sure the school gives those talks now, honey,” Frank said uncomfortably.

”Yes, but it’s different when it’s coming from the parents. It might actually be best if we talked to her parents as well and sat the two of them down all together.”

Frank stared at his wife in utter shock… the ideas this woman comes up with…

* * * *

Rodrick ran upstairs, slamming his door shut before landing on his bed and shoveling the food on his plate into his mouth with a sneer as his parents words chirped endlessly in his head.

You and him have always been close, there was zero change in that after that trip. They were just delusional.

Just like there was zero change in your relationship after he saw you naked. Like yeah, maybe he did want to see you naked again but that wasn’t any indication that your relationship changed—

There was a tap at his window.

He dropped his plate on top of his bed, getting green beans and sauce all over his blankets, before practically stumbling over his own two feet to get the blinds up.

There you were, sitting on your roof with a handful of thumbs tacks that you used to throw at his window.

You jumped at his abruptness, hand already poised to throw another thumb tack.

He opened his window, “What?”

You ignored his odd behavior, he was always a weirdo anyways. 

“Bill invited us to go hang in his basement.”

”But I’m grounded.”

”So?” You scoffed.

”Right now? My family’s still up.”

”We can sneak out in like an hour then,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m going whether or not you’re coming.”

”Alright fine,” he hissed, “We can go in an hour.”

”Nice.”

After an hour of waiting and listening to his family get ready for bed from downstairs, Rodrick threw on a hoodie and slipped his sneakers on, and found himself climbing out of his window and onto the roof.

You hadn’t been far behind, not bothering to change out of your pajama shorts and Löded Diper t-shirt, instead adding your own sneakers and a zip up.

Rodrick climbed down the tree between your windows before you did, grabbing onto your waist and helping you down the rest of the way like he has many times before.

But his hands had never burned at the touch before.

”Okay, let’s go,” you said, grabbing onto his wrist and tugging him towards your car.

He stared at your hand wrapped around his wrist.

Have you two always touched this much?

His cheeks felt like they were on fire from all the blood rushing to his head.

Rushing into the car you slammed your doors shut and turned it on, before peeling out of the spot you were parked in in front of your house and down the street.

On the way to Bill’s you almost crashed twice, which was less than usual so you considered it a pretty decent drive.

Parking in front of Bill’s you went to the side door that led straight into the basement he lived in.

His parents must have been out because they always hated when he invited you guys over— something about Bill hanging out with high schoolers not being appropriate.

You skipped down the steps with Rodrick in tow.

”Hello losers!” You greeted, making the others say their own hello’s.

Ben lit up, “Hello, legs,” he said in awe, seeing your bare legs descend the steps before seeing the rest of you.

”Ew,” you rolled your eyes, jumping on Bill’s couch, kicking your feet up on the coffee table, reaching over for the open bag of chips by your feet.

Bill had been laying in his bed while Ben and Chris sat on the floor playing some card game.

Rodrick sat beside you, reaching a hand into the chip bag you offered him.

”So what are we doing?” Rodrick asked.

Bill shrugged, “Dunno. I was bored and my family’s out.”

”So you invited us to be bored with you?” You asked, raising a brow.

”Nooo,” he dragged out, “I invited you to entertain me.”

You rolled your eyes, standing back up and making your way to his mini fridge, “Got any beers?” You asked, pulling the door open. Your eyes lit up as they landed on his stash.

Turns out he only had beer. 

You took one out and cracked it open, you grabbed another and tossed it to Rodrick to which he fumbled with a couple times before catching it.

”You didn’t tell us you had beer,” Ben said excitedly, scrambling from his spot on the ground and grabbing the two beers for him and Chris you handed him.

”You saw me drinking for the last hour,” Bill furrowed his eyebrows.

”So how’s the grounding going?” Chris called over his shoulder, taking his drink from Ben as he sat back down.

You took a swig of your own, plopping back down besides Rodrick.

”Well I’m here right now so I’d say it’s going pretty great,” he muttered.

”Susan’s been micromanaging him all week,” you also answered, “So we probably only have about an hour before she goes to check on him.”

”That blows,” Bill said, “Hey,” he suddenly said, getting an idea, “Maybe you should try getting grounded less.”

”Yeah, I’ll work right on that.” 

The next fifteen minutes were filled with idle chit chat about the band and a couple parties that were coming up.

“Again?” Ben scoffed, throwing his cards down. “This is rigged,” He got up from his game.

”Or maybe you just suck,” Chris laughed, grinning as he won yet again, sprawling out on the floor as it seemed they were done for the night, but not before taking a drink of his beer.

Ben made his way over to you, squeezing himself in the tight space between you and the arm rest of the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, scooching over towards Rodrick a bit.

”Soooo,” Ben said, dragging the word out.

”Yesss,” you mimicked.

”I saw you talking to Heather Hills today, what was that about?”

”Oh that?” You scoffed, “I have to work with her on some stupid project. She was telling me I have to pull my own weight on it because she’s not risking a bad grade because ‘I don’t take shit seriously’ or whatever she said— but I don’t exactly see that Princess studying and working hard either so I don’t think she has any right talking to me like that. Glass stones, y’know.”

”Uh-huh,” Ben said, clearly ignoring your rant, “So you’ll be seeing and talking to her regularly?”

”I guess so, we’re working on it in class.”

”Any chance my name can come up in these talks?”

Oh right, that’s where this was going, cause every fucking male in this goddamn school had a hard on for the brat. 

“Slim to none,” you answered, “Besides, I promised Rodrick here,” you slapped his knee, making him jump at the touch to which you ignored, “That I’d wingman for him if the opportunity ever came up.”

”He doesn’t mind! Right Rodrick!” He leaned over you to look at his best friend. He didn’t respond, “Rodrick?” He followed Rodrick’s gaze right to your legs, “Hey! Are you staring at my girl!?”

You scoffed, pushing his head back, and moving away from him and towards Rodrick, “How are you already drunk? Knock it off with that ‘my girl’ crap.”

”He was staring at you! Why am I getting yelled at!?”

”I wasn’t staring!” Rodrick yelped, voice cracking a red blush covering his face.

You looked back and forth between the two boys before standing up, your mood souring, “I’m gonna go pee, both of you cool it with the testosterone or I’m leaving.” You grumbled, marching out of the basement and to the bathroom upstairs. The one in Bill’s room was disgusting.

“What’s up with you,” Ben asked, looking at Rodrick peculiarly, “Why the fuck are you so red?”

”God— it’s nothing,” he grunted, “It’s a sunburn.”

”Bullshit,” Chris called out, “You’re blushing!”

“Oh I see,” Bill said with a laugh, “He’s finally coming around to (Y/N). Don’t see her as one of the boys anymore, do ya?”

”Will all of you just shut up,” Rodrick snapped, “I don’t like her like that.”

”No one said anything about liking anybody.” 

“But now we’re all thinking you do,” Ben said, raising a brow before an idea popped in his head, shooting up from his seat and pointing an accusing finger at him, “Something happened between you two!” A wide grin stretched across his face.

Bill and Chris were sitting up now.

”I knew it!” Bill laughed, “You two follow each other around like dogs.”

”What happened?” Chris pressed.

Fuck, fuck, fuck— he knows he shouldn’t say anything—

“I saw her naked,” he blurted, his own mouth out of his control.

Well fuck—

Chris and Bill shot to their feet as well, with exclamations on all three of his friends lips.

“How!?”

”When!?”

”Did you have sex!?”

”She forgot to close her blinds a few nights ago.”

Why won’t he shut up.

He guessed it was only a matter of time he’d eventually explode with this information as it was getting harder and harder each day to put it behind him.

”Is she hot!?” Chris exclaimed.

All Rodrick could do was nod guiltily as he continued to divulge more and more information.

All of them cheered again, Ben and Chris practically tackling him as they clapped his back and ruffled his hair in praise.

”What was she doing? Getting changed?” 

“She came out of the shower and was dancing to whatever music she was listening to while looking for her pajamas.” Starting to grin slightly at the praise he was receiving.

Ben fell to his knees at that, “So you saw,” he swallowed, “Her,” he gestured to his chest area, “Jiggling?”

”Yeah,” he said breathlessly at the memory.

”Does she know?” Bill asked.

”We made direct eye contact.” 

”What’d she do?” Chris now asked.

”As soon as our eyes met we both kinda screamed and I ran out of my room. But we talked it over the next day and everything’s all good.”

”Everything was all good.”

All four guys snapped their sights towards the staircase where you stood with your arms crossed.

”Really Rodrick?” You scoffed, clearly hurt. “What the fuck?”

”(Y/N)!” He stood up now. “I— uh,” he struggled to find the words.

You looked to each of your ‘friends’. “You’re all fucking assholes. Especially you Rodrick, have fun walking home.” 

With that all four watched you climb the rest of the stairs before slamming the door shut behind you.

Rodrick groaned.

”Shit.”

————————————————————————

Part 3 Coming Soon…

Taglist: @maggiecc @corpsebridenightamare @simpingforthe80s @werewolf-witchboy @brunnetteiwik @athenalive @exploringalaxiesfarfaraway @momokosthings

[thelov3lybookworm]

Journals

Summary: everyone is happy

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: heavyyyy angst, sad lil fic (literally what i named this before i came up with a title), mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm, self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on this and this poetry by @gardenofrunar 🤭 you couldnt tell it was me could you pookie?

also, there is not really a bat boy our reader is supposed to be with, so im tagging this as all three of them. there will most probably not be a second part to this, but still, lemme know hat you all think

AND, im not trying to glorify what reader is going through in this fic. if you are going through something, please talk to someone. you are not alone, my loves ❣️

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

It was happening again.

The breathlessness was starting to creep up again on her.

And the worst part wasn't the fact that she felt like she was dying.

It was that she was alone. Again.

No one was coming. No one cared. No one would even realise she was gone until it was too late, and maybe that was a miracle.

Click.

The haze cleared slightly, and gasping for breath, Y/n stood, somehow making it to the stairs leading to her bedroom before her lungs constricted again.

She had no other option as she crumbled on the stairs, the hard wood digging into her sides and thighs.

She could not breathe.

She could not think.

She could not move.

She could not breathe.

A cruel laugh broke through her consciousness, the sound so familiar yet so foreign, Y/n could not help but sob.

You deserve this.

Azriel. It was him, no doubt. But the longer she sat there, other voices started joining in.

First Cassian. Then Mor, Rhysand. Amren.

Feyre, Nesta. Elain.

"Stop." She whispered, her hands shaking as she rose them to her ears, pressing as hard as she could. But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the clearer the words became.

You deserve this.

You don't deserve us.

It's your own fault.

In an attempt to get away, to get some peace and quiet, she reached out, clutching the stair. The wood grains whispered against her palm, their sound lost to ears filled with taunts and laughter.

Still, she dug in her fingers, her nails screaming in protest, her heart yelling back in a horrific screech, beating loud enough to almost drown out her family.

Almost.

Pulling herself up, she reached out her hand, ignoring the pain as she did her best to haul her dysfunctional body up the hard terrain, trying to make it to her bed before she lost herself fully to the dark depths of her mind, losing all sense of her being.

Somehow, having no recollection of the climb, Y/n collapsed at the landing, her breathing erratic as she stared at the blurry paintings on the wall, gifted to her by Rhysand's mate.

Had they always been this blurry?

In the back of her mind, she realised that they were never blurry. There were just tears in her eyes, but she didn't think too much about that as she crawled forward, miraculously crossing the threshold to her room, the familiar smell of flowers Elain had gifted her last week pulling her out of her misery for a moment, enough to let her get up and stumble into the plush material of her bed before tears again erupted in her eyes.

They then came back, screaming in her ears about how much of a disappointment she was, how she deserved no happiness.

And she agreed with them.

But still, it hurt her heart to hear the people she cared for voice thoughts she only limited to the darkness of night, under the gentle presence of the moonlight.

You don't deserve happiness.

She knew the inevitable onslaught of her self hatred was about to break over her head, knew it was unavoidable and would probably have her moping for days.

Her mind started wandering, which in itself was alarming because as much as she wanted to stop thinking about her miserable life, she knew that any and all thoughts she had at these times would only work against her.

Rhys's tear stained cheeks, his bloodshot eyes and his quiet sobs as he clutched Y/n's hands between both of his, Y/n's soft cooing as she tried her best to soothe his wounds after his mother and sister's death.

As she held him after his return from under the mountain.

This was going to be a long night, she was sure.

Cassian's grumpy self refusing to eat after one of the Illyrians had again bullied him for not being good enough. Y/n's cheeks aching from how hard she was trying not to smile as she tried to convince the overgrown illyrian to eat something.

Azriel's shaky hands as she held onto him after a particularly bad nightmare that usually started keeping him up around the time his hands were burned, the anniversary o the time where an innocent little boy realised that the world was filled with cruelty.

Y/n being the first one to find out about Mor's liking in women and helping her sneak out to meet her lovers.

Y/n dragging gallons of fresh blood to Amren's apartment under the cover of the night when she knew the ancient being hadn't had the time to feast.

Her hands scrambled to find something to tether herself to, to remind her that this was not real and that it would pass. That her family did love her, and that they would never hurt her or want her to think this way of herself.

They would never hurt her the way she hurt herself.

They just wouldn't... would they?

Rhys's wide smile as he admired his mate while she spoke to a grinning Cassian, who in turn turned to Azriel to tease the blushing Illyrian. Mor, giggling over her glass of wine as she mumbled something to Elain, Nesta and Amren conversing in hushed tones next to the window, happiness shining on both their faces.

And Y/n watched on, huddled in her own little corner as she gulped down another glass of champagne, trying to focus on the burn in her throat as the liquor travelled down. Trying not to think of the way her breathing started coming in shorter pants, her lungs constricting in the too small rib cage that were set on killing her.

Trying to ignore the tang of copper in her mouth as she bit her own tongue, not wanting to speak and draw attention to herself, to ask for help because she was too unused to suffering in silence. Her family had always been there, and she had never had to go even a day without their constant nagging. She always had at least one of them guiding her through the worst of her days.

Trying not to think of how no one even glanced up as she exited the room, tears prickling her eyes, feeling like she was nothing but an intruder, watching from outside the warmth of the house, standing knee deep in the cold snow as she tried her best to keep warm by looking at the happy faces of her family, no matter how much she was freezing on the inside.

Her fingers curled around the lumpy material of her comforter, and she pushed forward, trying to ignore the tears that rolled down her warm cheeks and buried her head in the soft fabric.

And then let out the ear piercing scream she had been holding in, uncaring that she had let down the sound shield around her room.

She knew no one was around to hear.

She knew no one would come.

They were all too happy to worry.

Her stomach was grumbling, and she was glad it was because otherwise it would've been the cause for concern, considering she hadn't eaten in almost a day.

She was still so tired and wanted to do nothing but lay in bed all day and cry, but she needed to eat too.

And so here she was, chopping up some vegetables in a daze, not really paying attention despite wanting to focus on something that took her mind off of her thoughts.

It was not easy to stop thinking, so when suddenly the fog in her mind cleared, she glanced down.

The red of her blood was bright, and the longer she stared, the quicker the pain came, but it was only a tiny sting, nothing more than the bite of an ant in the shape of a knife.

She stared, and stared.

And then, she lifted her eyes, her gaze settling on her dagger, unprompted.

She smiled.

Writing was one of the parts of Y/n's responsibilities. Writing a letter to help the relations between the courts. A report for the high lord.

It was one of the things that broke her out of her own mind's torture, one of the things that made her feel like she wasn't entirely useless.

So here she was, just scribbling away senseless words in her journal, knowing she would hide it away before anyone saw it. Saw the blood stains.

For the first time in weeks, she was smiling, no tears to be found in her eyes as she lay on her stomach on the bed, her legs in the air behind her as she began doodling little flowers in the corner of the page, her inkpot next to her and her dagger in her other hand.

She went to dip in her feather pen in the ink, frowning a little as it created spots of ink on the crumpled paper, mixing with the dark red liquid that still dripped slowly from her fingers, little rivulets running down from her wrist.

As she continued, a tap on her mental walls had her pausing, and after a brief conversation with Rhys, she got up, closing her journal and beginning to clean the cuts on her wrist and around the journal and then donning a flowy, simple white gown.

It wasn't long before a knock sounded at her door, and she hurried to open it to find Cassian standing on her front porch, smiling.

"Hey Y/n, Rhys asked me to pick you up-"

Y/n nodded. "Yes I know, let me just grab my things and then we can go."

He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe.

She ran up the stairs and to her bedroom, grabbing the little bag she had put all her pens and previous reports into, deciding to carry them with her just in case.

She hurried back out within a few moments, but she saw that Cassian had moved, standing near the gates. Which was suspicious, but not too alarming as she stepped onto the porch.

"Let's go."

Before she shut the door Y/n turned and glanced around the house for the last time. Why, she didn't know. But she couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that something was wrong.

And she had known to always trust her gut.

But she turned around, locking the door before leaving.

Not realising her journal was missing from the table.

"I really don't want to pressure you too much Y/n, so if you don't want to be a part of this research, I understand-"

"Rhys, this is no burden. I'm actually honoured you even considered me for this project."

His brows furrowed, his smile turning confused. "What are you talking about Y/n? You're one of the smartest people I know. Of course you are included-" he trailed off, his eyes filling with understanding. "How have you been Y/n?"

Y/n blinked, pretending not to understand what he meant by that. Of course Rhys knew she struggled with feeling worthy of her family, and of course he made that connection.

"I've been good, Rhys." Y/n mumbled, an easy grin on her face as if Rhys's concern was ridiculous.

"Have you had any recent episodes-"

"Guess what I found!"

He paused, both their heads turning to where Cassian's booming voice floated through the cracked door.

Y/n's whole body ran cold, and before she could even question the reaction of her body to something that wouldn't have concerned her before, she was stumbling out the door, following Cassian's voice to the sitting room, where everyone else was gathered.

Cassian was grinning as he explained to them how he had gone to pick Y/n's up from her house, and how he found-

Her secret diary.

Y/n's eyes widened, her legs refusing to move as her gaze locked on the book Cassian held in his hand.

"Oh, look, she's here too!" He turned to her, his expression carefree and inviting. "Never knew you had a diary Y/n. What will I find if I read through it? Your secret lover's name? His-"

"Cass." Y/n warned, finally getting herself to move forward as he danced back, his hands beginning to crack open the book.

"Will I find your secret fantasies-"

He stopped dead in his tracks, all the emotions gone from his face as he stared at the page he had opened, his features hard. Y/n waited with bated breath, her head turning to gauge everyone's reaction.

Mor sat with Nyx in her lap, bouncing him as she glanced between Y/n and Cassian. Feyre and Azriel exchanged confused glances before Azriel stood, stalking towards Cass.

Panicked, Y/n jumped forward, but before her hand could wrap around her journal, he pulled away, face pale.

"What is this?"

"None of your business."

Azriel had stopped, his eyes wide as he stared at Y/n.

That's when Y/n realised he had smelled the blood she left on the pages.

Damn it.

Y/n stepped back towards the exit as she felt all the eyes on her, panic starting to dig its claws in her gut and begin its ascent up her throat as the shadows curled around Azriel's ear and his eyes went to her wrist, covered by the long sleeves of her dress.

Y/n turned to find Rhys standing in the doorway, his eyes filled with tears.

"Why?"

She glanced once at everyone, tears starting to fill her own eyes, her face flushing in embarrassment, mad that she had started crying over nothing, and pushed past Rhys, running towards the front door.

"Y/n!"

They will be mad.

You deserve it.

Y/n fled the river house, ignoring the concerned looks thrown her way by the people on the streets as she ran straight to her house.

They hate you.

The door slammed shut behind her as she leaned against it, gasping for breath as her lungs started contracting painfully, refusing to let her breathe.

The breathlessness was starting to creep up again on her.

It was happening again.

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria

@girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination @sunnyspycat

@artists-ally @riddlesb1tch @milswrites @berryzxx

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

@stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh

@st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium

@fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139

Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts @samslittlespoon @nickishadow139

[moni-logues]

Long, Long, Long

Pairing: Jin x reader (afab)

Genre: exes-to-lovers, angst, smut

Word count: 6.3k

Content: piv sex (it's vague-ish, so it's not specified whether protected or not), fingering

Summary: A not-exactly-by-chance encounter gives you and Jin a second chance to get it right. You don't. Will Jin give you a third? [based on the song Long Long Long by The Beatles as part of the Across the BTUniverse collab hosted by @ugh-yoongi]

* * *

“Hi.” 

Your voice was thin, airy, all the breath trapped in your throat as your eyes met his for the first time in years.  

“Hi.” 

It was like an echo in reverse: his voice the strong, confident greeting and yours the weak memory of it.  

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he continued and you felt your head cock to the side. 

“I mean... He’s my cousin...” 

“Right!”  

His laugh cut straight through you, because you hadn't been expecting it. Hadn’t been expecting to be affected by him at all.  

“I always forget you’re related.” 

“It’s how you and I met.” 

Had he forgotten? Why did it hurt so much that he might have? Why did you care? You broke up with him! Years ago! This was your choice! But you couldn’t stop the accusation lingering in your tone. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to hear it, too. 

“I remember,” he replied, face serious. Serious but ... soft? Maybe? If you looked hard enough.  

You cleared your throat to pierce the awkward silence that followed. 

“How have you been?”  

“Yeah, pretty good. Same old, y’know. You?” 

“Oh, same, yeah. Nothing to report.” 

You chuckled self-consciously, wondering when you could get out of this conversation, away from him. He offered a bare grin back and you stood there, looking at each other, for long enough that you almost started to feel the world fall away; you almost started to believe you saw something in his eyes, something you’d not seen for such a long time, something you’d never expected to see again.  

Your lips were parting, mouth about to say who knew what, when Namjoon startled you with a slap on the shoulder. 

“Hey, guys!” 

You both jumped, flinched, and did another awkward laugh that Namjoon would almost certainly not have noticed. 

“Having fun?” he asked, grin wide and eyes shining, face a little too red to be sober. 

“Yeah, of course!” 

“It’s your wedding! Who wouldn’t be having fun?!” 

That appeared to satisfy Namjoon and he left as abruptly as he arrived, but it had disturbed something between the two of you. You felt unable to look at Seokjin again. You mumbled something almost inaudible and walked away.  

You went outside, where almost no one was. It was far too hot and humid, the air clinging close to you like a second skin. It was suffocating, almost too wet to breathe, but it was a relief from being inside. Where he was.  

You sat yourself down on the stone steps around the corner, out of sight. You needed a moment to think things through. It had been a long time and you had thought it was all behind you, but seeing him again brought it screaming back, and you needed to remind yourself of what had happened. 

* * *  

Seokjin slumped in his chair, fingers on the keyboard unmoving. He liked gaming because it made him feel peaceful, even if the game was infuriating. It took him outside of his head, outside of his troubles and stresses. He could leave everything behind and let himself be absorbed into the world of the game. It was relaxing. It was refreshing. It was, often, a well-needed break.  

Tonight, though, he just couldn’t get there. Couldn’t bring himself to leave the real world behind. This time, it felt too big. His problems too important to just run away from, even if only temporarily.  

He loved you. Knew it down to his bones. Felt that you were as much a part of him as they were. Couldn’t imagine a world in which you weren’t together but found himself thinking about it all the same.  

He wondered how often you made each other happy, because it felt rare these days. He tried to remember the last time you greeted each other with actual smiles on your faces—smiles that you meant, smiles that you felt. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment at which it had got difficult. It had happened slowly; he knew that much. He knew, when you moved in together, that he was happy. That you were happy, too. That you both were full of hope and enthusiasm and love. He knew, now, that he wasn’t. 

He sighed heavily. That was the first time he’d really thought it. The first time those words had risen in his mind, floating to the top like pond scum. He stared, unseeing, at the screen in front of him. All he could see was you. You then and you now. What had happened to you? What had happened to him? 

* 

You felt Seokjin roll out of bed. You didn’t roll over to him, ask him where he was going, say good morning. You stayed, facing away, on your side.  

You used to love waking up with him. Used to snuggle down at night, gleeful about the morning you knew was coming. You looked forward to every new day because they all started with him. Started and ended and then started again. Your days were book-ended with him, bound by him, supported by him. It felt exactly as it should have, you thought. Right. Correct. As it should have been. 

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, trying not to cry. Every morning a fresh heartbreak. Every morning, rubbing exhaustion from your eyes as you crept to bed later and later at night, anything to delay that cold slide into sheets, the slipping off to sleep knowing you’d be waking to disappointment.  

You were going to have to talk about it. You’d both been doing a good job avoiding it so far, but something had to give. You didn’t know how much longer you had left in you. Didn’t know if you could keep tip-toeing around, ignoring each other, pretending things were normal. Pretending you were happy.  

Were you? At that point, you weren’t even sure you were still pretending. You passed each other like ships in the night because you were too scared to talk. Too scared of another argument with no end. No resolution.  

Except one. 

That one.  

The one you didn’t dare think about.   

* 

“We have to do something,” you said, quietly, the words dropping to the floor, dark and heavy.  

“I don’t want to,” Jin replied.  

You took a beat to swallow your frustration; you didn’t want to either. You didn’t want this. You didn’t plan this. You hadn’t planned for this. This hadn’t figured in any of your plans when you had signed a lease with him, merged your life with his.  

You rubbed at your temples. Neither of you said anything. You sat, in silence, side by side on the sofa. You thought yourself around in circles. You wrangled with the problem again, as though you hadn’t done so a thousand times before. You tried to find something, some other angle, some fresh perspective that might give you a way out. You made your head hurt with it. The thump of your heart resounded inside your skull, hit you over the head every second.  

You were tired. So tired. Of all of it. Everything. Of the misery you felt. Of the misery where joy had once been. Of this incredibly pregnant absence that surrounded you. These edges, frayed and sharp, screaming in neon about what used to be there, what used to fill them.  

Some days, you had thought about not coming home. Not ditching your whole life, just... not coming home for a day. Maybe two. Staying at a friend’s. Eventually, you always made your way back there, because you weren’t able to admit to anyone that things were falling apart, but you spent the journey pretending you were heading somewhere else. That there was a destination at the end that wouldn’t break your heart. 

“I think we have to,” you whispered, your voice cracking on tears. “We can’t just keep living like this. You know it as well as I do: we’re not in this anymore. It’s over.” 

And Jin couldn’t say anything. Because he knew you were right. He just didn’t want you to be right. He wanted this to be right: him, you, together. He wanted it to be like it was. Before... Before he wasn’t even sure what. Life? Work? The everyday drudgery of existence somehow grinding you both down so that you didn’t have time for each other, didn’t have space, didn’t have energy. You lived together in relative peace and that was all you had now. Nothing less but nothing more.  

You’d already done all the arguments. The ‘you aren’t prioritising this relationship’ one and the ‘we need to make more of an effort’ one and the ‘why are we even together then?’ one. All of those a hundred times and others besides. They never fixed anything. Only made you both feel worse. Frustrated. Guilty. Ashamed. Scared.  

So he had known this was coming and was being cowardly, making you the one to say it. He felt bad for that but he couldn’t. It hurt enough just to hear you say the words; he couldn’t be the one to rip them from his lungs, to tear down everything you had built together. He was a coward. Had been a coward all this time, trying to run from this.  

Knowing it was coming didn’t make it hurt any less. He couldn’t reply immediately, had to take a minute to let the initial sting wear off. Kept waiting for it to fade. Gave himself a little longer to feel composed. To stop feeling shocked and confused and hurt, hurt, hurt.  

He dropped his head into his hands, thoroughly shamed, chastising himself for making you do this, for still not being able to agree. Not being able to help you with this. He knew you were right but he couldn’t look it in the eye. 

“Jin,” you croaked. Pleading.  

He swore under his breath, tears burning in his own eyes. He was going to let you down. Had been doing it for months. Was going to do it again. He could hear you crying, couldn’t bear to look over and see it, too. He bit down on his lip, chose to focus on that; grabbed his hair with his fingers and pulled until it hurt, chose to focus on that. Anything but the pain of hearing you cry. Anything but the pain of his heart, bleeding freely, filling him with heartbreak.  

“We have to break up,” you whispered, some time later, when your breath had evened out a little, when Jin had blood on his tongue and fewer strands in his scalp.  

“I don’t want to,” he whispered back.  

A coward. He was a coward. He knew it.  

You weren’t. You were going to do it. What he couldn’t. Pull the plug. End it all. Walk away. Leave.  

* 

You did. 

* * * 

“This seat taken?” 

You barely registered the words, let alone the voice. You waved a hand in a vague gesture of an answer. It wasn’t until he sat down and that lost, familiar scent hit your nose that you realised who it was.  

Your head snapped around, looking at him, and, once he met your gaze, you couldn’t look away.  

Were they the same? Those eyes? Were they exactly as you remembered? You couldn’t be sure. They looked similar enough, familiar enough, deep and dark as they had ever been. You just couldn’t see beyond them anymore. Couldn’t see what he was thinking or feeling. Had lost the skill when you lost him, you supposed. You searched his face for clues, for a hint of-- 

You stopped yourself. You were about to think of him as ‘your Seokjin’ but he wasn’t that. Hadn’t been for a long time. He could be someone else entirely now. Even if you felt catapulted back in time, hurtling into the past when you had been his, when there had been a connection between you, a thread, thoroughly tangled, so well knit that you had thought it would never unravel, that didn’t mean he felt it, too. You had no right to expect that. To want it. 

Did you want it? 

“They’re organising a search party for you, y’know,” he said lightly, lips lifting slightly at the corners. 

“Oh?” 

“You missed the first dance-” 

“Oh, fuck!” 

Finally bringing yourself back to the real world, you gazed around yourself, realised how low the sun had got in the sky, saw all the bugs flying around you, making a feast of your skin. It was still sticky and close, the encroaching dark bringing with it no chill.  

Seokjin laughed. 

“Don’t worry; Hobi filmed the whole thing. They attempted a lift and Namjoon dropped her.” 

You gasped.  

“No!” 

“Yes!” 

You laughed, harder than you might have otherwise, because it was such a relief to laugh, to cut through the tension you were feeling.  

“Is she ok?” 

“Of course. It’s the perfect wedding anecdote: no harm, no foul, caught on tape.” 

“You’ll have to get Hobi to send that to me.” 

“It’s already on the internet.” 

You wanted to fill the silence. You wanted to keep this going: this light chat, this friendly conversation. You wanted to show yourself that you could do it. You had been working on it, steeling yourself because you had known you would be seeing him here, that you wouldn’t be able to avoid it. You’d been preparing. Reminding yourself of your decisions, of where you were now because of them. Propping them up with a little too much bluster—but it was only one night. This facade did not have to be robust; it just had to be opaque. 

“We should go back inside,” Seokjin offered instead.  

“I don't want to,” you said without thinking.  

And those four words did it: stabbed you hard in the chest, right where you were softest. You swallowed your gasp, held your breath. It hurt like it had three years ago. How could your heart feel so freshly cleaved when you had been sure it was all solid scar tissue? Healed and weathered, maybe, but sewn together all the same.  

You wondered if he would say it. If he even still remembered. You were waiting for it, tense and aching and bleeding all over. The seconds were weeks, months, years. Three years. Three years, three months and, you calculated it quickly, five days. You winced, cheeks flaming, eyes burning.  

“Ok,” he said eventually. “We don’t have to.” 

When you looked at him, his heart broke a little. Watery and wide, your eyes pleaded with him, said things he couldn’t hear. Not anymore. He had wanted to apologise. Had almost done it so many times, reached out to you just to say sorry. Sorry for- 

All of it.  

Sometimes he was sorry you ever met. Sometimes he was sorry you fell in love. He was sorry that it didn’t work. Sorry that he couldn’t fix it. Sorry that you walked away. Sorry that he let you. Sorry that he didn’t run after you.  

“I’m sorry,” he said, plainly, finally.  

He wasn’t sure that he wasn’t still being selfish, that this wasn’t more for himself than it was for you but he couldn’t let this opportunity pass. He might never see you again. Or he would see you: when Namjoon had his first baby, at their 100-day party, and every year after that, maybe. He wasn’t sure which would be worse. 

“For what?” 

He sighed and looked at his hands.  

“Everything, I suppose. That it didn’t work out between us.” 

He saw you shrug in his periphery, hoped that wasn’t how you really felt. 

“It’s ok. Wasn’t your fault. We just... didn’t work out.” 

There was a long pause. You were going to let him lead the conversation because you didn’t trust yourself to. Didn’t trust yourself not to rip your heart open at the seams and ask him to break it again. Because despite all the time that had passed, despite the clean break, the no-contact, it didn’t feel finished. You weren’t done. You had tapped a rich seam you thought had dried up; if you let it, it would overflow.  

“Can you believe they’re actually married?” he asked.  

You laughed. This was easier territory. This was happy. This was joyful. This was everything you and he were not. 

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” 

“Given how it all started.” 

“Oh, that was so long ago. They’ve been happy for ages now.” 

They had and it made your heart lighter. That they turned it around. That somehow mess and rubble turned into solid foundations. That the house they built out of brick was strong and stable and full of laughter. 

“... We were happy once, weren’t we?” 

You took a breath before you turned to look at him, filled yourself up with air as if it would keep other things out. Other things like the aching familiarity of affection for him. The instinct to take his hand in yours, to rest your head on his shoulder. The feeling that you wanted to make everything better for him. The belief that you could.  

Other things like love.  

“Yeah, we were happy,” you said stiffly.  

“I’m not sure where it went wrong.” 

He turned, then, finally looking at you. You had the same sensation you had earlier: the sense of everything else falling away; the hint of something becoming clearer.  

He kissed you.  

Or you kissed him.  

Either way, it was happening.  

“Is this stupid?” you whispered against his lips, not daring to pull back farther, to open your eyes. 

“Probably,” he replied. “But I think we should do it anyway.” 

He didn’t give you the opportunity to argue, locking his lips against yours again. You didn’t want to argue. You wanted to fall into him, give in to him, give in to something you’d been denying that you wanted all this time. All these years.  

In just one kiss, those years disappeared. The time apart collapsed into nothing and you were together again. Like you used to be. You could ignore everything around you; there was no wedding, no party, no formalwear. It was just you and him. As it always should have been.  

He didn’t stop and neither did you. Not when he brought his hands to cup your face. Not when you shifted closer to him. Not when he rolled his tongue over yours. Not when you clutched at the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.  

Only when you had to move, when the constriction of the steps and your dress meant you couldn’t get any closer to him did you stop. Did you pause. Did you take a breath. 

“Jin,” you began, the pounding of your heart making you a little breathless already. 

“Don’t,” he whispered back. “Please don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” 

He sighed and you felt him sit back, drift away from you, hands falling to his lap.  

“Don’t say that we shouldn’t do this. Or don’t say we should talk about things. Don’t say-... I don’t want to say anything.” 

His plea was echoed in his eyes and you bit your tongue. For a second at least. For long enough for him to stand and offer his hand to you. For long enough that you took it. That you let him lead you back inside, out of the room, up the stairs. 

He opened the door to his hotel room and held it for you, his other hand still cupped around yours. He let it shut in silence and you sat on the bed. Your chest was bursting. Felt full. Full like a barrel bomb hurtling out of the sky. You didn’t know the damage it would do if it fell. If you let it smash itself open on the floor of this hotel room.  

So, you didn’t let it. Didn’t give it a chance. You locked eyes with Jin and reached out for him. Your hand fell to the knot of his tie and you dug your fingers into it, loosening, your other hand joining to break it apart and pull it from underneath his collar. Then your fingers went to work on the top buttons of his shirt, the ones on his waistcoat, pushing his jacket off his shoulders to let it fall to the floor.  

Jin wasn’t still as he let you undress him. He worked as gently and quietly as you did, using deft fingers to pull grips from your hair, freeing it from its tangles and running his fingers through your tresses as they ran like rivulets down your back, crossing your collar bones and curling just above your chest. You remembered with a smile and a twinge in your heart that he always wanted you to grow your hair long. That you had cut it into a long bob a year or so before you broke up and he never stopped mentioning, firstly, how beautiful you were regardless but, secondly, how much he liked your hair when it was long enough to tie into ropes, to curl endlessly around his fingers.  

You were silent like that—unspeaking—so that when he brought his lips to yours again, when his tongue found yours and you could taste him like you had a thousand times before, your little sigh of contentment was loud. Loud, too, was his grunt as you ran your hands down his chest and palmed at his trousers. You let those sounds fill the room. They expanded like air until it was full of small, breathless noises, ones you’d not heard for years. Ones you’d thought you wouldn’t hear again.  

Sounds you had forgotten: Jin’s intake of breath when your teeth met his neck, the way it sucked in through his teeth like a gasp, as if it hurt though you knew that it didn’t; the sound of a zip undoing and the quiet, grunted exhale that always accompanied it as your fingers grazed his length (that you didn’t even know if he was aware he was making, that he made the same every time); the moan when your fingers did more than graze, when they wrapped around him, cool against the solid heat of his cock, and squeezed a little. 

Sounds he had forgotten: your moan when his mouth found your nipple, when he felt it shiver to attention under his lips; the way even your breathing whined, each exhale carrying with it a sweet, sighed vowel which floated into the air to make space for the next; the way his name sounded in your mouth, the way your lips pushed and pulled to form it, the way the final consonant became a sound of its own, stressed as if you didn’t want it to end that quickly. 

Sounds you had both forgotten: the ones you made together. The rush and click of your kisses, breathing heavily, lips pressed together and then apart, at irregular intervals because sometimes you wanted to pepper kisses all across his perfect face and sometimes you wanted to breathe his breath back to him, wanted to taste him forever, wanted your tongue to know his like it used to.  

The wetter, slick squelch of his fingers pressing into you, coated in your arousal, then their insistent pressure that made you whine, made you keen, made your breaths high-pitched and long.  

The slap of his skin against yours as you sat above him and let him fuck into you from below. The accompanying grunts, answered by your panting his name: a word you thought your body had forgotten but that came without your say so, automatically, bubbling up from your lungs like a long-forgotten spring. Like it was natural. 

The sound he made as he came, his throat tight around the vowel as it stopped the air. The opening sigh of your name immediately following it.  

“Fuck,” Jin whispered as you let your body fall forward into his arms, chest to chest, your head on his shoulder.  

“Fuck,” you replied.  

The silence was complete, then. The drone of the air-conditioning and a fly batting at the window pane didn’t reach you. The noise of the disco two flights below didn’t either. It was just the two of you and your silence. The two of you with your arms around each other. In a bubble. Back in time.  

You fell asleep like that: the alcohol and the orgasms conspiring to knock you out before you could knock sense into yourselves. 

* 

The night was deep when you finally woke. You shivered and goosebumps rippled across your skin—too cold now, with the aircon still going. Jin’s head was tipped back, his mouth slightly open, eyelids fluttering as he dreamt. You started to smile and then stopped yourself. 

What were you doing? 

What had you done? 

You realised you were cold on the inside, too. That whatever your chest had been full of earlier was gone now. An icy dread began to swim in your veins. A terror.  

What a fucking stupid thing to have done.  

Jin slept deeply and you’d never been more grateful for it than you were then. You extricated yourself from his heavy limbs, pulled your dress over your head and grabbed your underwear and shoes in your hands. You opened the door of his hotel room as quietly as you could and padded on tiptoes back to your own. 

* * * 

“Hi.” 

Your voice was quiet, choked, blood racing to your face, cheeks burning. The reply didn’t come. He just looked at you. Blinked once. Kept looking at you.  

That was fair enough, you thought. He didn’t have to speak to you. Hadn’t done for over a year now.  

Not that you had spoken to him. Not that you’d been in touch at all after walking out on him at Namjoon’s wedding. Walking out on him as he slept after the two of you had slept together. 

But you did wish he would either say something or stop looking. It occurred to you that you could look away. You could walk away. Technically, anyway. Your legs could move and you’d been walking successfully for the better part of 30 years now.  

But you couldn’t do it again.  

Jin nodded with the smallest twitch of his head and turned away. He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t really know how to say anything without the entire monologue pouring out. The one he’d been thinking to himself in quiet moments. The one he had ranted in his head for days after the wedding. It was softer now than it had been then, but it wasn’t soft. He didn’t want to give you soft, not again.  

He knew the break-up was as much his fault as yours. Or that it was no one’s fault exactly. He wasn’t angry with you for the break-up and now he had almost stopped being angry with himself, too. Because there had been a way back. He had thought you would walk it. With him. He had thought that the door had been opened and at least you would fucking talk about it.  

Then he woke up alone.  

So, he didn’t know what to say to you now, a year later. A year in which your silence resounded. He had got the message.  

* 

It had been a year. You knew that. You were painfully aware of that. You had seen it coming, had been almost counting down the days with every morning that you woke up and didn’t speak to him. Didn’t reach out. Didn’t apologise or try to explain. It had been another year without him.  

You hadn’t gone back to the wedding party. Had sat in your own hotel room and cried. Had sat in your own bed in your own house and cried. On and off. Occasionally. When you let yourself think about it. Him.  

It was months before you told anyone because you didn’t want it to be real. You didn’t want to believe that you had been that stupid. All your old wounds opening up, as if you had scurvy so bad your heart was unstitching itself. Except it wasn’t a vitamin C deficiency, it was you. You, actively ripping at the seams. You, digging around inside your deepest hurt. Fucking around in it.  

That was why you hadn’t called. Messaged. Carrier pigeoned. Smoke signalled. Telegrammed. Sent a message via your cousin and his friend, Namjoon. 

Your relationship hadn’t worked. You had broken up. You weren’t happy together. Things had changed. You clung to these truths like lifelines. They were facts and facts didn’t change no matter how you felt about them. Not even if you wanted them to.  

* 

You didn’t speak to Jin at your second cousin’s (first cousin once removed? Namjoon’s son’s) 100-days party. He didn’t speak to you, actually, but you pretended it was mutual. You stayed out of the way and, eventually, the party ended. 

* * * 

“Hi.” 

You’d practised this. You knew he would be here and you had cemented closed those holes in your heart. You had papered over the cracks and you were going to be civil. Polite. Friendly, even. You could do this. So far, your voice was playing ball. That was an absolutely textbook greeting. 

“Hi.” 

A response this time. Promising.  

“I’ve missed you.” 

Jesus fucking wept. That wasn’t part of the plan. By the look on his face, Jin also was not expecting you to say something like that but, as ever, he schooled his face quickly back into one of neutrality.  

“Have you?” he asked.  

You winced at the edge in his voice and knew you deserved it. You didn’t know how to answer, because your rational brain had taken back control and you didn’t want to wade into those waters. 

He sighed sharply, exhaling through his nose; he turned to leave and you let him. You watched him disappear through a doorway and tipped your head back against the wall, bumping it deliberately once, twice, three times.  

* 

“H-” 

“Please don’t say fucking ‘hi’ to me again.” 

The word died on your tongue.  

“What do you want?” Jin asked, not aggressive, just aggrieved.  

“To talk?” 

You saw him bite his tongue. Saw him chew and swallow the sharp retort he wanted to give you. 

“About?” 

You took a deep breath. 

“Us?” 

“I wasn’t aware there was an ‘us’.” 

“Jin, plea-” 

“No.” 

“I-” 

“No. Do you know how much I beat myself up when we ended things? When you ended things – because I couldn’t do it. I should have. I should have been the one to take that hit, but I let you do it because I was a fucking coward. I was scared to lose you but not scared enough to make things right between us, apparently. Just enough to fuck things up between us for good. I thought that was my fault. 

“And it fucking hurt because I missed you. All the time. I thought, all the time, about you and the life that we should’ve been living together still. And it hurt knowing that I ruined it. I fumbled you as the kids apparently say these days. I thought it was on me. 

“Then there you were at the wedding and it took me longer than it should have but I...”  

He paused and you couldn’t have filled the silence if you’d wanted to. He threw a hand in the air. 

“But what do I know? I got it wrong once and then obviously got it wrong a second time. You have no idea what it felt like waking up to an empty bed that morning.” 

It had been embarrassing. Scalding like a pot of boiling water thrown in his face. Had hurt like it, too. Jin had cursed his impulsivity, knowing that you should have had the conversation first, should have made things clear before going and fucking. Fucking things up. He just hadn’t been able to help himself: there you were, in his arms again, where he never thought you’d be. So, he had let sense take its leave and he had assumed it would all get straightened out afterwards. How naive he had been. 

“I’m so-” 

“Don’t say you’re sorry. What does it matter now? It doesn’t. I got the message. Loud and clear. We’re done. I get it. I’ll get over it. Just-” 

“Don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” 

You had to swallow, your mouth suddenly full of saliva, your stomach churning; you weren’t sure you weren’t about to open your mouth and vomit, but you had to say it.  

“Don’t get over it. Me. Don’t get over me.” 

His expression remained guarded, but his eyes flashed and you knew that expression. You knew him. Down to his bones you knew him and it all seemed so simple now, somehow. Laid out in front of you; spelt out in sky-writing; blaring like a klaxon.  

Your foot was already off the ground, about to rush to him, kiss him, make real all the things that had been only in your heart and mind for the last year and some. Maybe there was a reason you couldn’t get over him: that you shouldn’t. That the last time should never have been the last time. That you needed to be apart only so you could come back together. That you had lived with him and lived without him and you knew which you preferred.  

It welled up in you like a wave, sucking back on the shore as it rose, preparing to crash with full force and you took a step forward and lifted your other foot to take one more. 

Then you paused. Because that’s exactly what you’d done last time and he wouldn’t do it again. Wouldn’t step foot in what might’ve been a trap. You owed it to him to talk first. To lay yourself bare before him, emotionally this time. To let him see. 

“I shouldn’t have left,” you began, foot planted firmly on the floor. “That was really... It was shit. It was mean. It was uncalled for. I shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t fair. And I am sorry, even if you don’t want to hear it. I am sorry and I’ve been kicking myself for doing it since the door shut behind me that morning.  

“It wasn’t your fault. At all. I never blamed you for our break-up. You didn’t do anything wrong. We just... Well, I don’t know; maybe we both stopped trying. But it wasn’t just you. It always takes two. You shouldn’t have been beating yourself up for it. I’m sorry for that, too. 

“I’ve been beating myself up for leaving,” you continued. “Honestly? I was scared. I didn’t expect it. I had put so much work into getting over it, being ok with seeing you again, believing that the break-up was the right thing to do and that there was nothing between us anymore.  

“It wasn’t true. None of it. Because the first time we’re in a room together after breaking up, we have sex?” You chuckled, a little rueful. “Who the fuck was I kidding? I just don’t think we’re made to be apart.” 

“We can’t just get back together.” 

“Why not?” 

Jin laughed then—more out of surprise than anything else. He had sworn he was done with you. He was determined to be. Because, well, that’s how the saying goes, isn’t it? Fool me twice... It was unfair to put it in those terms, he knew, but he still wasn’t prepared to put himself in another position that would see him heartbroken. Again. For the third time.  

But here you were, saying things he’d only ever dreamt you’d say. Saying them and looking at him like you meant it. At least, he thought that was what you looked like. Did he know you well enough still to make that call?  

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you let it go, because he was just looking at you. Looking at you with such uncertainty in his eyes. He was very good at keeping his guard up; you had been surprised when you learnt that. Had thought that you’d got to know him pretty well until he revealed to you that you barely knew him at all. Had let you take a peek at the depths beneath his not very still waters. It had been something you loved so much about him: the way you could share a look in a crowded room and only you would understand. The way he let you in had made you feel special because you were one of a small, select group. You had betrayed that trust.  

You understood his doubt. Knew he had every reason to feel it. Knew that you had to swallow your own fear and uncertainty for it. 

“Why not?” you repeated, stronger this time, a proper challenge. 

He spluttered.  

“Wel-, becau-... It-... I don’t know!”  

You did step forward this time. Sure, short strides. Crossing the room you’d been standing at opposite sides of until you were standing just an arm’s length from him.  

“Why not?” 

“Because...”  

His voice was barely a whisper now. You reached forward for his hands and he gave them to you. You took another step forward. 

“Why not?” you whispered back, feet moving you towards him all on their own now, until you had to crane your neck to look up at him, until you could smell his aftershave, feel the puff of his shocked little exhale. “I’m in,” you told him. “I meant it: I don’t think we were made to be apart. We’ve done apart. I don’t want to do it anymore. Didn’t want to do it in the first place. Please. Please give me another chance.” 

He scoffed, his eyebrows briefly high on his forehead. 

“It’s not you who needs another chance,” he replied. “It’s me.” 

“Ok, then, I’ll give it to you. Have it. Take it. Me. Please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You didn’t need words to tell him how sure you were.  

[silent-stories]

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐈 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑... 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: a silly game leads to some confessions (jj's version of this)

You dangled your legs off your house's roof as the sun slowly sank on the horizon, painting the sky different shades of pink and orange.

The boy sitting next to you brought the cigarette he was holding between his fingers to his mouth and blew out a cloud of smoke from his nose, which the cool but not excessively cold breeze of that evening immediately blew away.

The shirt he'd refused to put on after the shower he'd taken before going up there lay beside him, even though you'd insisted that if he didn't put on clothes he'd catch a cold, and his bare chest rose and fell as he let smoke in and out of his mouth.

"Never have I ever…hurt myself trying to be funny." You said.

You always found it fun to play that game with JJ, every time you discovered new things about each other even though it's been several years since you've been playing it.

The rule was to always tell the truth, as if you were using one of those lie detectors they only used on criminals you saw on TV but sometimes you found yourself wondering if JJ had ever told you a lie during that game that maybe you had become too old for playing.

JJ chuckled. "I bet you already know the answer."

The light from the day's last rays of sunlight reflected off his ocean eyes, making them appear to be a hundred different shades of blue.

"Oh I know, but I want to hear it from you." You laughed, thinking about what had happened that morning several years ago when you were both little more than children.

"That tree was obviously unstable, it wasn't my fault!"

"That tree was unstable but you tried to climb it anyway."

"Tried? I did it!"

"Yeah and then you fell. And you broke your wrist."

"Yeah but you took good care of by me afterwards. That's when I knew I wanted to keep you."

"Wait, you wanted to keep me? I wanted to keep you so you didn't end up in other similar situations and risk your life every two days."

JJ laughed as he stubbed out his cigarette butt on the roof.

"It's your turn." You said.

"I don't know...I feel like I already know everything about you."

"Then ask me something you don't know."

He didn't say anything, as if he was carefully choosing his next question and after a few moments of silence you wondered if he had decided that the game wasn't worth playing anymore.

The birds had stopped chirping and the kids who usually played outside had gone back to their homes.

"Never have I ever...been in love."

Your head spontaneously turned to him but he was staring straight ahead, where the sun was now almost completely gone. His hair still damp from the shower clung to his neck and forehead and there hadn't been a moment since he'd stepped out of the bathroom that you hadn't repressed the urge to reach over to brush the dripping blonde strands from his forehead.

He was pretty, and there was never a moment in your life when you didn't think it.

And you absolutely were in love, probably not from the first moment you saw him because you were too young to know what love even was.

Now you knew.

But he was your best friend.

"No" You lied, "no, I don't think so."

JJ didn't answer, continuing to stare at an indefinite point in front of him. No funny or sarcastic comments, no jokes.

"It's your turn." He didn't turn to you.

"Never have I ever..." you thought about it for a moment, you had nothing to lose, right? "been in love."

"It's not fair. That's what I asked." He chuckled under his breath.

"I don't think there's a rule against asking the same question." You shrugged.

JJ rolled his eyes, then stayed silent for a few moments, as if thinking about it.

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his damp locks, "still am."

You have felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach and in your belly. I was a weird mix of fear and hope that you couldn't quite identify.

"Does she know?" You just wanted JJ to be happy, you didn't care if he would break your heart.

"Nah."

"Why?"

He snorted. "Because she doesn't like me that way."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she's never even been in love."

Oh

JJ turned to you, finding your surprised expression.

"Yeah." He chuckled, his laughter was colder and less genuine than usual, "Hella embarrassing isn't it? I've been waiting for days if not months for the right moment to ask that stupid question during this game and when I finally work up the courage, she tells me she's never been in love. I almost wish you'd told me you were head over heels for that kook who always sits next to you and flirts all the time at every history class. Someone who deserves you. But like this? You make things even more hard because every time I'm around you I can't help but think about what it would be like-"

It was a way to stop his rambling, it was a way to tell him he was wrong, it was a way to tell him you had lied for the first time during the game.

Your lips were on his and your hand was finally in his still damp hair. It was short, a few seconds and it was already ended as if it had never been there.

"I thought... you said..." He stammered, surprised. On his lips the ghost of a smile.

"I lied. I'm sorry, I fucking lied. It's you. It's always been you."

In no time his lips were on yours for a second kiss.