#my spotify gave you one of the best picks it could

[mingigoo]

oh shit, are we in love? || Jongho (m.)

🏀 pairing ⇢ cheerleader! (fem) reader x best friend/basketball player! Jongho

🏀 summary ⇢ you’ve called Jongho your best friend all your life. You were attached at the hip for ages, and even as you take on college together. With no other relationship experience other than with him, when you decide to go after a cute classmate, you look to Jongho for some help. Asking him to practice “things” with you seemed like nothing—that is, until kissing him made you think that you couldn’t kiss anyone else.

🏀 genre/au ⇢ best friends to lovers, college au, smut, fluff

🏀 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, oral sex (male recieving), cum shot, Jongho is a virgin, also is a slut for y/n, drinking, mentions of knee injury, best friends to lovers, college love, cheerleader x basketball player

🏀 word count ⇢ 15.8k (so sorry I just couldnt stop)

🏀 taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

spotify playlist

When you were kids, Jongho gave you a ring—a ring made out of straw paper he kept after a trip to get milkshakes after school.

With the paper straw ring, he stuck it on your ring finger. The wrong one, but that didn't matter to him, anyway. He declared to you that he would marry you someday. Someday, whatever that meant to a young kid. With the ring already on your finger, you couldn't exactly decline his proposal, so you just shrugged and told him, “Why not?”

At seventeen, you went to prom together. Not because you liked each other, no. Because it was convenient, it made sense. How could you go with someone else? You wore a beautiful red gown, Jongho matching you with a patterned red tie. You had a great time, went home together, and nearly kissed at your doorstep—you didn't think too much of it. You blamed it on the atmosphere. So did he.

You sat at your desk in your cramped dorm room, your bed pushed up on the left side of the room and a mess of pillows and blankets covering it. 

Suddenly, as you were finally getting to the good part in your book, Jongho barged into your room, dropping his basketball bag onto the floor with a groan. He tossed his slides off, not even meeting your gaze before walking like a zombie towards your messy bed, throwing himself on top.

“Well hello to you too,” you blinked, losing your page in your book. “Get out of my damn bed, you're sweaty as fuck.”

He huffed, crossing his muscular arms across his chest, staring up at the glow stars you put on the ceiling. “Leave me be. My roommate is fucking some chick right now. I just need to lay down.”

“San seems like he gets around a lot,” you scoffed, picking up your book again. You were currently reading a very, very smutty book—although you were supposed to be studying your literature anthology text for the exam you had in the morning. You flipped a page. 

“Oh, he does,” Jongho sniffed. You looked over at him, his cut-off t-shirt revealing a good bit of skin on his side, his sweat gleaming on his body. “I mean, practice just ended. He had to have the damn girl in there even before he got back. It’s ridiculous.”

He sat up now, putting his back against his headboard. He winced a bit as he moved, his hand going to the brace around his knee.

You paused, completely forgetting the smut you were reading. “What is it? Is it hurting again?”

“Just a little, it’s no biggie.” Jongho offered you a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “Don't give me that look, y/n. I hurt it a while ago. It's normal for it to ache occasionally.”

Back in your senior year, he tore his ACL before the season, causing him to never have his final year of basketball. He was a mess, but at least he had you. He got surgery, had physical therapy, but yet, he still has pain to this day.

You met his eyes for a moment, sighing when that gorgeous smile of his poked through his lips. “Fine, fine. Just get outa here when you can. I got some…important things to do alone tonight.”

He furrowed his brows, confused. “What could you possibly…..oh,” he shut his eyes painfully. “Please, I don't want to imagine it.” He scooted back down on the bed and tossed your blanket on top of him. “My eyes, my eyes.”

“Oh, shut up, you pussy.” You set your book down, crossing your legs. “A girl gotta live out her fantasies somehow, alright?”

“La la la,” he repeated, trying his best to ignore the conversation. “I don't wanna hear it.”

You let out a chuckle, stood up from your seat, and tossed yourself onto the bed with him, tackling him as he thrashed from your grip.

“Stop it, stop it,” he groaned, wriggling away from your hands as you tickled him. He giggled, childlike. You giggled right along with him, not even caring about the damn sweat that coated his skin, his clothes. You tangled together under the blanket, and after a good couple minutes of a tickle fight, you grabbed your laptop to watch your favorite TV show.

Jongho stayed under the blankets with you, his leg strewn on top of your body, his head in the crook of your neck as you watched the show together. He let out a few snide comments—earning a slap from you, but he just chuckled and nuzzled closer into you.

And after a few episodes, he fell asleep on you, legs tangled in yours, your arm wrapped around him.

—

“Dude, you wouldn't answer your phone last night,” Wooyoung mumbled as he stuffed a couple of chips into his mouth. “Do you literally have a new bitch every night?”

You and your friends were sitting at a table in the dining hall, munching on some lunch before you had class. Wooyoung, San, and Mingi sat across from you and Jongho, all of them in workout gear—they were going to the gym after lunch.

“Listen, last night wasn't even that good,” San hummed dully, taking a sip of his protein shake. “She was too damn loud—”

“I thought you liked them whiny,” Mingi deadpanned.

San’s eyes narrowed on the giant. “Your point? She was loud, not whiny—there’s a difference.” San looked to Jongho now, a slight smirk on his pretty little lips. “Where’d you go? You could've joined us.”

Jongho waved his hands sporadically. “No, no, I’d rather not, thank you.”

San huffed playfully, eyes dancing to you. They glimmered knowingly. “Ah, you’d rather be in her bed, right?” he nodded his head towards you, earning a harsh glare from Jongho.

“So what if I'm in her bed, it’s not like we do anything.” Jongho’s eyes went frantic, and his fists balled. “We’ve always slept with each other—wait, that came out wrong—”

“What he’s trying to say is that we’ve slept in the same bed since we were little, that nothing is ever gonna happen,” you interjected, crossing your arms across your chest.

San laughed at that. “Ah yeah, that nothing’s gonna happen, gotcha,” he said, taking the last sip of his protein shake. I’m going to the gym if you guys are ready. Jongho, y/n, you coming?”

You shook your head, but stood up with everyone else, anyway. “I have class, but you guys have fun. I’ll walk out with you.”

As you and your friends left the dining hall, the cool, winter air breezed through you, sending chills down your spine. Your winter coat wasn't enough. You shoved your hands into your pockets, walking stiffly next to jongho, who simply—possibly even without thinking, tossed his arm around your shoulder, warming you up instantly. Your friends continued to talk and carry on, and you snuggled up into Jongho’s warm side.

—

Class was a bore. As per usual. The spring semester had just started, and the new classes you had were far from entertaining. Anything to get through school, though.

As you packed up your things, a phone fell from the seat in front of you, landing right by your feet. You picked it up, but when the person was no longer sitting there, you quickly tossed your bag over your shoulder to follow him.

“Hey, excuse me!” you huffed, chasing after the guy—damn, his legs were long. He moved way too fast for you. “Your phone….dude!” you finally reached him, tapping him on the shoulder, only for the most gorgeous man to grace the earth to turn around.

You forced yourself to keep your jaw from falling to the floor as you met his dark eyes. His hair was even darker, his lips a soft pink, curling up slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, holding up the phone. “But you dropped this.”

The pretty guy blinked, smirking. The classroom emptied as you stood staring at each other, oblivious to the professor giving you a side-eye as he left.

“I don't think that’s mine,” he said blandly, but his eyes glimmered mischievously. He looked a bit older—definitely older than you, at least.

You furrowed your brows, looking at the phone in your hands. “I could've sworn you were the one sitting in front of me,” you wondered, confused. You pushed it forward into his chest. “Just take it I don't have time to find the owner if it's not yours.”

He smiled down at you, his thick eyebrows raising. “I won't take it.”

“Why the hell not?” your patience was running thin—you had to get the cheer practice. This stupidly pretty guy was not allowed to make you late. You were not running laps. Not today. 

You were about to just shove it into his pockets until his mouth opened. “Not without your number.”

You frowned. “Is that….is that supposed to be a pickup line?”

He shrugged. “If you want it to be, then yes.”

God, the smile this damn boy had. You were gonna crumble under his gaze like some schoolgirl, but you kept your cool.

His eyes were so bright, so clear. He was tall, much taller than you, much older. You watched as he looked around, away from you. “If not, then I’ll just take the phone back—”

“No, no,” you laughed awkwardly, looking at the phone in your hands. “You just…you’ll just need to unlock it.”

He smiled gorgeously. “I can do that.”

He took the phone, typed in a few numbers, and gave it right back to you. “What’s your name?” 

“y/n,” you hummed, forcing your blush away. This was the first time you had been asked for your number, the first time a guy other than Jongho or your friends had looked at you. “You?”

“Seonghwa,” the pretty boy smiled, a name now to the face. You couldn't help but grin at his expression—and the utter insanity that just happened. It was totally random; a pretty guy asking for your number? That’s never happened in all your years. Never. 

“If I ask to buy you a coffee,” he started as you fumbled on your phone number. “Would you say yes?”

“Depends,” you shrugged, unable to look up at him. “If you get me food, too.”

“Deal.” Goddamn, that smile, those teeth. “Tomorrow, after class? Before class?”

You bit your lip, handing the phone back to him. “Before, I have practice after class.” actually, you had practice like, right now. You probably looked crazy, eyes wide as you realized where you needed to be. “I gotta go—speaking of which—”

Before you could leave, he called for you. “Hey, where should we meet?”

“Outside the library?” you tossed out, hoping he answered hastily. 

He nodded, giving you that smile once again. 

“Perfect.”

—

You were in bed after practice, and Jongho was sitting quietly on your desk chair, slowly taking off his knee brace and hissing. 

“God, this thing sucks,” he groaned, the velcro tearing as he peeled it off. The brace was like a metal cage, going from his thigh to his lower calf, looking like a deathtrap.

“And it stinks,” you mumbled dramatically, staring up at your ceiling, hands folded on your stomach as your mind wandered. You sat up quickly, startling your best friend. 

“What? What is it?” he spat out, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “You just sat up like a goddamn zombie.”

“If, let’s just say, hypothetically,” you wondered, looking out into space. “That I got asked out on a date to a coffee shop, how would I dress?”

Jongho’s eyes widened. “You got asked out? You?” he asked incredulously.

You scoffed, looking over at him with a playful sneer. “Is that so hard to believe?”

He laughed, finally taking off his brace and setting it on the side of your desk. “Oh yeah—y/n, you’ve never once gone on a date in all of our years of friendship. It's shocking.”

You blinked at him, gripping a pillow from behind you and tossing it at him. Of course, he caught it. 

“I’m just saying—”

“Okay, but for real,” you groaned, shifting to get comfy again. “You’ve been on some dates, how did the girls usually dress for them? Did you ever go on a coffee date—”

“Who’s the guy?” he huffed out, completely ignoring your worries.

You flattened your lips. “Does that matter?”

“Uh, yeah. What if the guy is a scumbag?” Jongho leaned back in the chair, stretching out his arms. 

“He’s definitely not a scumbag,” you sighed, thinking of how dreamy he looked, missing Jongho’s worried expression. “Anyway, you didn't answer my question.”

You couldn't figure out the look on your best friend’s face. He knitted his brows, his eyes raising to yours. “Just dress normally,” he spoke softly. “When’s your date?”

“Tomorrow.” You hopped off your bed and walked towards your closet across from Jongho. He followed you as you moved and hesitated to look as you tore off your top, leaving you standing in your sports bra.

Jongho gulped but rolled his eyes playfully. “Why do you always undress in front of me?” His eyes naturally dropped to your hips as you slid off your sweatpants. “I am a man, too, you know.”

“Pfft, man, my ass,” you turned your back to him as he tried his best not to look. You grabbed a t-shirt—his t-shirt that you kept from a while ago—and tossed it on. You didn't even bother with pants.

Jongho gave you a look as you turned to face him. “My shirt? Really?” He groaned, mouth parted as he looked at you. “Where the hell are your pants?”

“I don't like pants.”

“Then put shorts on—”

“Is it a crime to sleep in my underwear? God, at least I have something on, dammit.” you walked past him and hopped back onto your bed. “I could be completely naked—this is my room, remember?”

Jongho didn't change his expression—he blinked at you while you sat on the bed, bare-legged, the skin up to the top of your thigh visible. He took in a gulp. “I, uh, I got an assignment due at midnight. I’m gonna head back to my room.”

You shrugged and shuffled into bed to get comfy. “Have fun with that, babycakes,” you said, giving him a wink, but he ignored it and left your room without another look.

—

Maybe it was a bad idea to wear jeans on a day like today.

A day when you woke up painfully bloated, bleeding, and aching from your period. Out of all the days, you had to get it today. 

You stood outside the library, your back against the red brick building. You wore a cute pink top with the flared jeans you were struggling with, and you added a cute little bow to hold your hair back.

You saw Seonghwa walk up to you. His lower half was also dawned in wonderfully-fitting jeans. They hugged his thighs, loosening a bit at his knees, and fell over a pair of sparkling clean white sneakers that looked like they were worth more than your car. 

The white shirt was also slim against his lean frame. You held back any reaction you had like a damn cat in heat. “Hey,” he started as he neared. “Ready to go? We can go to the coffee shop on campus since we have class coming up.”

You nodded, hoping to god the smile on your face was not grimace-like. 

“Yep, let’s go.”

You sat with your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers anxiously as Seonghwa waited for your drinks. You looked over at him, watching his figure lean against the closest wall, how his long, long legs looked in those damn pants, how his fingers tapped against his arm as he waited. You barely knew him, nothing much other than knowing his name and now his coffee order, and you wondered what it would be like to get to know him. 

When he sat down in front of you, he handed you your coffee, a bright, blinding smile on his face. “I pegged you as the type to like ridiculously flavored seasonal drinks….” he paused, smirking, as you froze mid-sip on your….seasonal drink. Highly, highly sugary seasonal drink. “Guess I’m a good judge of character.”

You swallowed the party of sugar and cinnamon before giving him a shy smile. “I’m a sucker for them, to be honest.”

You sat quietly for a good while, sipping on your drink, him sipping on his. The feeling was…nice. However, you were a bit anxious as he looked at you, at your lips, as you drank from the straw. 

“You’re a cheerleader for the basketball team, right?” He tilted his head slightly, looking at you. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere—besides class, I mean.”

You nodded. “Yep, I cheer for the basketball team,” you took another sip of your drink. “Do you play? I think I would've seen you before, though.”

“Actually,” he started, offering you a kind smile. “I just transferred in from another university. I start official practice today, but I’ve been to many games already.”

Oh, so he’d seen you and known that you were on the cheer squad even before he approached you?

Cute. 

“Oh, wow,” you smiled, leaning closer without realizing it. “So, will you be playing in the next game, then?”

“Yes,” he looked ecstatic, like he can't wait. “We’ll see how much playing time I actually get, though. Those guys are very good—”

“Oh, I know!” you didn't mean to interrupt him, but you would take any chance to brag about your Jongho. “My best friend is the point guard.”

“You know Jongho?” Seonghwa smiled, but it looked a bit weary. “He’s a great guy.”

“He really is.” you took a large sip of your coffee, meeting Seonghwa’s gaze as you did it. His gaze fluttered to your lips once more, and he licked his own. 

He tapped against the wooden table. “Would you….want to do this again?”

You raised your brows. “This? You mean, getting coffee?”

“Not exactly,” he blinked, letting out a little chuckle. “Anything, just…we can hang out more, if you're down with that.”

Your heart fluttered a bit. “Ah, yeah, I would like that.”

He smiled. “Good,” he looked at the clock on the wall near your seat. “We gotta get to class.”

“Class, yeah, that’s right,” you were lost in his gaze, not even realizing how captivating his entire being was. You followed him out of the coffee shop, walking next to each other, until you got to the classroom.

He took the seat next to you this time, and you were beginning to suffocate from the feeling of his body being so close.

—

“I think I’m doomed.”

Jongho, like always, is in your room when you come back from practice. He sat up from his lazy position on your bed, eyebrows raised.

“Why’s that?”

You huffed, tossing your cheer bag onto the floor next to your desk. “What if he kisses me? I’ve never kissed anyone, fuck, I bet I’ll look like a fish trying to gulp fucking water—”

“God, you’ve been here for not even a minute, and you're blabbing on like a maniac already.” He blinked, his face deadpanned as he looked at you. “Why are you so concerned? Did the date go well?”

You groaned dramatically, tossing off your sneakers, and balancing yourself on the back of your desk chair. “He asked me for another date, but I know damn well what that means, and I can't let him find out that I am a twenty-something-year-old virgin that’s only ever kissed books and my mother.”

Jongho looked like he was about to burst out laughing at your desperate words, biting the inside of his cheek. He managed to squeak out, “Oh, I think you’re a lost cause,” he giggled. Giggled.

“This is not funny. You're no help,” you groaned, tossing your head back as you walked to your closet—when a perfect idea came to you. 

“Wait a damn minute–”

“What is it now?” Jongho sat up on your bed, legs dangling off the side.

You turned around sharply, facing him, eyes wide with mischief. His eyes widened at your expression.

“Lend me your lips,” you said, walking up to him, but he leaned back in confusion, his arms holding himself behind him.

“What?” He scoffed, unable to meet your gaze. “The hell do you mean?”

You leaned over him on the bed, him unable to lean any further back without falling. You held yourself up on both sides of him. “Oh, come on. Just once. You can help me learn how to kiss. Who else could?”

He furrowed his brows. “You’re crazy.”

“I know,” you shrugged. “But I’d rather die than embarrass myself.”

“You do know,” He started, letting out a sigh. “That friends don't kiss each other? Or did you miss that memo?”

“I swear it won't mean anything,” you pleaded, knowing you were acting crazy, immature, whatever. 

Jongho huffed, leaning forward, but grabbing your shoulders to move you away. “Listen,” he sighed, meeting your eyes. “Why don't you go ask San or Mingi?”

“Because San scares me,” you shrugged. “He’d probably eat me. And Mingi is….Mingi….”

“What does that even mean—”

“For fuck’s sake, Jongie,” you grabbed his shoulders. “Is this asking too much? We’ve been best friends for so long. How would something so trivial as a kiss mess with it?”

Jongho looked like he had something to say—a lot to say, actually. But he stayed quiet, sighing, as he looked up at you from his seated position on the bed.  

“Okay, but if I have to kiss someone as filthy as you,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “What do I get out of it?”

You hummed. “Hmm. well, what do you want?”

He smiled mischievously. “Do my paper for me. For my lit class.”

“Easy, done,” you leaned forward. “Now gimme your lips—”

“Ah ah ah, slow down,” he scoffed. “You can't just toss yourself into the kiss. You have to lead into it.”

“Got it,” you blinked, looking into his golden brown eyes, noticing how…nice they were. “How do I do that?”

“Well, I bet he’ll try to kiss you first,” Jongho ran a hand through his fluffy brown hair, matching his eyes. You took note of it, too. He stood up, causing you to subconsciously step away from him. You both now stood in the middle of your dorm room, the room dimly lit by your desk lamp, the warm hue coloring the tanned skin of his face.

“Okay,” you nodded, almost freaking yourself out for noticing his details, the slight curve of his lips, the way his hair fell across his forehead. 

Jongho’s calloused hand slowly, hesitantly, moved towards your face. You watched his eyes as his fingertips brushed your skin, watching them scrunch, watching them focus on his movements. “Maybe he’d hold you like this,” he spoke softly, eyes jumping to yours, his hand twitching slightly.

“But what do I do?” you weakly jutted out, biting the corner of your bottom lip. “Do I…touch you—touch him, too?”

He shrugged, swallowing hard. “I mean, you do what comes naturally.”

He was so close. So close. It's not like you’ve never been closer to him, because you have, but something was suffocating. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

Maybe this is just how it’s supposed to feel.

You stared into his eyes, those brown eyes, those….sparkling, pretty eyes. You swallowed as his hand slid down to your chin, tilting it up softly.

There was an unknown emotion dancing in his gaze. You were extremely aware of the spark that was setting off from his touch. 

He leaned in closer, and as he got closer and closer, you felt your heartbeat flutter in your chest. You heard it in your ears, felt your stomach tighten. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said hushedly. You noticed that the tips of his ears were flushed red, and a dusting of the color was across his cheeks. When he pressed his lips to yours, you widened your eyes from the feeling, then shut them to savor it.

His mouth moved across yours, you felt the warmth of his lips, the softness of them. His other hand—the one that wasn't holding onto your chin, rested around your hip, his grip tightening. 

You froze under his lips, unsure of how to do this. You moved your mouth against his, then, trying to move with his movements. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, unsure of what to do with them if you didn't do that. You felt a small smile in his kiss.

You pressed your body into him as his lips parted against yours. You felt the soft tickle of his shaky breaths against your skin—you could only imagine what you felt like to him.

He parted from you, only slightly, and took a sharp inhale. You still had your eyes shut tight, lips parted, as you got lost in the feeling. 

You opened them, meeting his gaze, meeting that heart-shattering look he had. His lips were red like his ears, like his cheeks. His eyes were hazy, his hands still on you. You felt your heart crumbling inside you. 

Without another word, you leaned back up to him, awkwardly wrapping your hand around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. He shut his eyes, and let out a pleasured sound, stirring something, awakening something inside.

You kissed him this time, even knowing that you had no idea what you were doing. You just trusted these instincts you were feeling, the emotions that were overtaking your mind. Your body told you to part your lips against his sweet lips, to savor the slightly salty taste against them. To lean into his body. You couldn't help but allow yourself to touch his waist, gliding your hand down his abs, his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten under your touch. 

He sighed into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist, his fingertips brushing the bare skin under your blouse. His lips felt so good, so soft, so electrifying. This feeling was unlike any other, you were beginning to lose your breath, your senses, your mind.

And when you let out a little moan—without intending to, you were shocked back to reality. You pulled away from him quickly, moving your hands to your sides, trying to catch your breath. Jongho was also huffing, begging for oxygen, as he stood in front of you. His lips were bright red now; his eyes were wide.

“Ah, um,” you cleared your throat, forcing out a laugh. “So, did I do a good job?”

Jongho blinked, still looking out of it. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.” He swallowed, nodded, and crossed his arms across his chest. “Mhm. For your first kiss, you did good.” 

Good? Good? God, that felt euphoric. Like you were drugged, high, out in space. You still couldn't get your heartbeat to slow. “Great.” That was all you managed to squeak out, now that you were suddenly aware of the ability to just kiss him again. You realized that the air was odd now, that something felt different. 

“You tasted like sweat,” you playfully added, letting out an awkward laugh as you gave him a shoulder punch. “Maybe I should've kissed San or Mingi instead.”

“I am a great kisser, I’ll have you know—” Jongho boasted, but you interrupted him. 

“Pfft,” you waved a hand as if you weren't just about to hyperventilate from his kiss, his touch. “You sucked, you’re a horrible teacher—”

“Oh?” he huffed, gripping your arms just below your elbows. “I’ll kiss you again, I’ll prove it, I’ll do you one better—”

“Fine! More practice for me, anyway.”

Jongho let out a grumble of incoherent words before grabbing you by the back of the neck and pressing his mouth to yours once more, his lips gliding against yours. 

You grabbed the fabric of his shirt, tightening your grip as he pushed his tongue through your lips, into your mouth. You let out a sigh as he did it, his fingertips gripping your hair on the back of your head.

After a long few minutes of eating each other, He pulled away this time. He let go of you, his hands falling at his sides. “There,” he breathed. “Now you know how to handle a kiss like that. You know, just in case.”

You licked your bottom lip, sparks still flying around your body. You tasted him still, the saltiness of his sweat. You smelled the woodsy cologne he used, the minty taste of gum. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, trying your best not to let these thoughts of him overtake you. “For helping me with this. You’re such a good best friend.”

“Ah, yeah,” he sniffed, forcing a smile. “I should, uh. I should go, I have something to submit before midnight, so,” He gulped, taking a step away from you. “But happy to help, of course. Now you owe me my paper.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you scoffed, smiling playfully as he walked to the door to put on his shoes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he called out as he opened the door, leaving after you offered him a wave goodbye.

And once the door shut, you nearly lost your breath, falling onto your bed.

“Oh god,” you breathed, putting a hand to your mouth. “What was that? I—ugh!” you groaned, thrashing your legs around. “Why the fuck was he so hot? Get a grip, get a grip.” you ran your hands aggressively through your hair and gripping it. “Fuck I think my brain lost too much oxygen.”

You couldn't sleep one bit—not at all. Every time you closed your eyes, all you saw was Jongho, and all you felt was him.

—

A few days pass and you barely see your best friend.

It's not that he’s ignoring you or vice versa; it's that he had an away game a good distance away and was off campus for a good few days. 

While he was gone, you wondered if he was thinking the same way you were, if he felt something, too, or if it was just normal to have feelings during a kiss. 

Irritated by your stupid mind, you were unsure about the feeling in your chest when you saw Jongho in the library; his baseball hat flipped backwards over his soft brown hair.

You would look odd if you ran away, right? Right.

You strutted over to where he was sitting. He always loved the window seats, mainly to people watch. You sat down in the seat across from him.

“When’d you get back?”

He lifted his eyes to yours. “Last night,” he grumbled, flipping a page in the book in front of him.

“What are you reading?” you leaned forward on your elbows.

He reacted much worse than you thought, flying backward into his chair, a terrified look on his face. 

“Yo, I’m not gonna bite you, Jeez,” you raised a brow, moving your gaze to the book. “Oh, ew, anatomy. No thanks.”

He scoffed, picking off an invisible—or maybe an extremely small—piece of lint from his black hoodie. He didn't say anything in response, he just continued what he was doing.

“So,” you tried to continue the conversation with him without it turning to mush. “I’m gonna be going to Seonghwa’s frat tonight. There's a party or something.”

He looked at you with shock. “You’re going to a party?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” you rolled your eyes, leaning back to cross your arms around your chest. Jongho’s vision dipped to the movement.

“Well, given that you hate crowded places,” he trailed off, not really having another excuse. “I just can't see you going to—”

“y/n?” a voice softly murmured from your left, and both you and Jongho turned to see Seonghwa walking up to your table, a bag slung across his broad shoulder. His hair was pulled up in a half up half down do, little black strands framing his unfathomable face.

Jongho, in the corner of your eye, looked away from the tall basketball player, opting for the view outside the library.

“Seonghwa?” you smiled, uncrossing your arms to look less like a grumpy bitch. “What’s up?”

You didn't even look to see the irritation on Jongho’s face.

“I was coming in to study but then I saw you in the corner of my eye,” he smiled, beamed, really, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He then nodded to Jongho, offering him a smile, too. “Hey, Jongho.”

Your best friend managed to give him a smile back, although you knew his face all too well—that was a damn grimace. “Hey.” 

You looked between the two boys as seonghwa spoke again. “Hey, me and y/n are gonna be at the party tonight. You wanna come? The other guys on the team will be there, too.”

“Well, I can't imagine San missing a function,” Jongho scoffed, cracking his knuckles aggressively. “But I guess I’ll come, too.”

You nearly dropped your jaw onto the floor.

“Really?” you interjected, shocked. “I can't imagine you going to a party—”

“Anyway,” Jongho cleared his throat, ignoring you. “What time?”

Seonghwa furrowed his brows as he tried to recall. “Uh, I think ten? It goes till two, no later,” He looked to you then. “Do you wanna go for some lunch?”

You blushed. Jongho huffed. “Oh, yes. That would be nice,” you smiled, to which Jongho rolled his eyes in response. You stood up from your seat and offered your best friend a playful wink. “See you tonight, jongie.”

When you walked away, seonghwa slugged an arm around your shoulder on the way out. Jongho, still in his seat, tightened his grip on the textbook as he watched you leave.

And then he couldn't even enjoy people-watching when he saw you walk down the sidewalk with that string bean.

—

You didn't hear from jongho the rest of the day, and even when ten o’clock came, he was M.I.A. You shrugged it off, trying too hard to ignore the tug in your chest, the desire to go to his room and kiss him again. 

You made it to the frat house that sat on the end of the Greek life strip in town. It was a tall, skinny building that looked way too nice to be lived in by a bunch of boys. You made sure to wear your filthy Converse, knowing damn well whether booze, puke, or a plethora of other fluids would end up all over them. Despite not going to many parties in your lifetime, you still had common sense. 

You walked into the house, getting bombarded with tons of odd smells, some good and some bad. The interior was dark, lit with random colored lights that danced all over the walls, the people. 

Loud, ungodly music blared through oddly positioned speakers in the wall, and there was a sea of people talking and carrying on. You weren't sure how the fuck they could hear each other over the awful music.

You walked further into the house, making a B-line to where you assumed the alcohol was. There was a bunch of beer cans, and you grabbed one with ease, cracking it open and chugging it like a champ. However, the beer sucked ass, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. You must've made a face.

“Icky?” Seonghwa’s smooth voice envelopes you with comfort. 

You turn to him, offering him a sincere smile. He looked great, as always, with his hair growing even longer. “Very, but if it gets me drunk, I’ll handle it.”

“So brave,” he chuckled, standing closer to you by the second. Your mind wanders to the thought of him touching you. Would it feel as good as it did with Jongho? Would his hands be gentle? Would his lips taste as sweet? 

His hand on the small of your back interrupted your thoughts.

You needed to be drunk. Quick, so you can handle these stupid ideas.

“It’s good to see you here,” he starts, but you can't help but look at his lips. You weren't thinking about them—no, rather, you were thinking of Jongho’s. Would Seonghwa feel the same?

You took another sip of your drink to get the last drop before grabbing another. “Do they have something else? This shit sucks.”

Seonghwa looked at you for a long moment before nodding in a direction. “There’s vodka in the cabinet if you want it?”

You let out a sigh of relief, but still, you kept drinking the shitty beer. “Yes, god, yes.”

After you got ahold of the vodka, you regretted your choice against the beer.

You must've blacked out for a bit—you don't remember how you got in the living room, how you got onto Seonghwa’s lap, how his lips were on your neck. You delightfully craned your neck to feel it better, to feel his hot breaths, his hands on your waist. However, when you opened your eyes, you realized that you were imagining someone else under you.

You pulled away from him, but you didn't get off him. You looked into his eyes, seeing the desire drip from them. You were too messed up—blame that on your shitty tolerance, to care what you were doing right now. “Can I try something?” you fluttered your eyelashes, not meaning it in a sultry way, but it came out that way.

“Of course,” Seonghwa mused, a little smile prickling at his lips.

Lips that you wanted to kiss—not because you needed to, but because you needed to see something, feel something—have something to compare to that ethereal experience you had with your best friend.

And at his approval, you leaned forward, doing everything that you were taught, and pressed your lips to Seonghwa’s. He responded well, gripping the back of your head as he kissed you back, and you slid your tongue in his mouth, half expecting to feel something, anything.

But there you were, imagining Jongho, his smell, his taste, the way he cautiously touched you and held you. Nothing can compare, not even this.

You pulled away from him, eyebrows raised, mouth agape. He looked confused at your reaction but put on a sloppy smile. “Everything okay?”

You were going to say no. you were going to cry out and say that you were going to die because you kept thinking about Jongho. You couldn't even kiss a hot guy, a guy you wanted to date, without thinking how much better it felt with Jongho. Everything felt better with him. It was comfortable, unnerving, exciting, all at the same time.

You smiled, but with how drunk you were, you could assume that it looked like a grimace. “I uh, yeah, I just gotta….go do something—-bye,” you huffed out, offering him a little, awkward wave, before you ran out of the spinning room.

You ended up on the back porch, not sure how you got there, but the world was spinning. Your chest was aching. You needed air, anything, you needed to breathe.

The cool air hit you just right, enveloping your lungs, helping you breathe. Your skin was hot, flaming underneath your clothes, and you were sure your cheeks were bright red. After noticing a couple making out in the corner, you grimaced and ran back into the house.

God, what a shitshow.

You avoided seonghwa narrowly, making your way up the creaky, thin staircase to get your own space. You opened the first door you got to, tossed yourself in, and slammed your back against the door with a sigh of relief.

That relief didn't last long.

“y/n, what the hell?” Jongho nearly screeched, turning his body slightly as he stood over the toilet, zipping up his pants in a frenzy. “The fuck? Don't you know how to knock?”

You didn't say anything. You just took a deep breath, your gaze falling over him.

“y/n?” He repeated, standing a bit awkwardly on the other side of the room, leaning over to flush the toilet. He looked a bit rough around the edges as he washed his hands quickly, looking over at you as he dried them. He walked up to you now, hesitantly, unsure about your expression.

You fiddled with your fingers as the world slowed around you.

“Are you gonna talk?” He scoffed playfully, his eyes raking your body, forcing themselves up to your face. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you swallowed, shaking your head, the door behind you the only thing holding you up.

He gave you a concerned look, running a damp hand through his silky hair, and you couldn't help but think about how wonderful it would be to rake your hands through it, too. “No, that you're not okay, or no, that you’re not gonna talk?

You blinked. “....yes.”

He sighed. His eyes looked hazy, not quite to the extent yours probably looked, but still, he was not in his right mind, either. You took a shaky breath, watching those brown irises fall to your lips, to your chest. 

You clench your fingers together, your body, dying to do something your heart would regret. You swallowed hard, sighing.

“Aren’t you acting like this because you have something to say?” He asked, his words dripping like honey from his lips.

You shook your head. “No.”

He looked like he was fighting a smile. “I think you are.”

“No, I’m not–I’m not acting like this because I have something to say.” Your mind was already screaming at you, begging you not to do anything. Begging you not to say anything. “Because I want to do something.”

The air was stuffy. The bathroom was filthy, the window was cracked open, blowing in a slight breeze, gently running up your arms, sending chills down your spine. 

Jongho tilted his head. “To do what?”

The vodka in your basically vodka-virgin body was bubbling under your skin, infiltrating your mind, your blood. It was taking control over your every move, every idea, everything. So when he asked you that, when he looked like the most beautiful person in the world as he spoke, with his pretty ass hair and his lips and his flushed cheeks, you knew what you wanted to do.

“To kiss you,” you didn't stutter. You stayed put against the door despite your words. “I just wanna do it again. Every time I look at you, I want to do it.”

Jongho’s eyes widened, but he didn't run away like you thought he would. He just stood there, breathlessly, his hands at his sides and his mouth parted. It’s like he wanted to do it too, with the way his fingers twitched as you spoke, with the way his lips almost curled up completely. 

You pushed off the door, taking a step towards him. When he didn't back away, you took another step. You were so close to him that you were able to feel the soft, hot breaths he was letting out against your skin. His breath smelled like that disgusting beer, but it didn't matter at all—actually, you wanted to taste it on his lips, on his tongue.

You reached out a hand, the room spinning around you. Your fingertips met his cheek, his hot skin. You felt a surge of electricity run through your body as you touched him, as you looked into his eyes. His gaze was unlike anything else you have ever seen. His eyes were zeroed in on you, shutting slowly as you rubbed your hand against his skin. He let out a soft breath, a content sigh, and his eyes were on yours again.

He took in a breath, eyes on your lips. You were too drunk to think about how the look on his face made no sense—friends shouldn't look at each other the way he was looking at you.

You leaned forward, and when he didn't flinch away, when he actually leaned forward as well, you smiled to yourself, and pressed your lips to his.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body to yours. His hips knocked into yours, his mouth parting, swallowing you whole. He shoved you against the sink, the countertop stabbing the small of your back, but you felt absolutely no pain. You arched your body into his, as if it were instinct, and his hands ravaged your bare skin. He was desperate, trying to catch his breath as best he could while he kissed you. 

Your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers tightening in his brown hair. He let out a little moan into your mouth, his hands caging you in against the sink. Accidentally, his forehead bumped yours, causing you to bite his lip. 

You pulled away, but just for a moment, smiling at him, at the redness of his lips from your gloss and your bite. He looked breathtaking in front of you, so human, so perfect. So you leaned in to kiss him again, nose knocking into his, but it didn't matter if you were sloppy. It just mattered that he was the one you were kissing. 

“y/n,” he breathed against your lips, his hands now on your hips, one curving around your ass. “We shouldn't be doing this—”

“Shh,” you hissed, slapping his shoulder, keeping your lips against his. “I don't care right now.”

You deepened the kiss, and as he pressed up against you, you felt something hard press into you; you felt a deep rumble from him into your mouth. The pool between your thighs.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opened. Mingi stood there, his jaw down to the floor, as he took in the scene in front of him. Jongho must not have heard the door, as his hands were still clawing at you like a goddamn animal, his lips on your neck now. You quickly gripped Jongho’s shoulders and pushed him away.

“What? You just said—” He took notice of where you were looking, turning his head to see Mingi’s shocked expression. “Oh.”

“Oh, dear god!” Mingi looked like he couldn't hide the smile peeking through his lips. “I knew it!”

Jongho took a whole century taking his hands off you, finally stepping away, leaving you cold, empty. “It’s not what you think—”

Mingi threw his hands up in the air, smirking. “Ay, I didn't see anything. Carry on.”

With one last look, Mingi shut the door, leaving you alone with Jongho. The feeling in the room was completely different from a moment ago.

“I….” he started, then sighed, unable to look at you. “I gotta go.”

“Jongho—” You went to move toward him, but he left the bathroom as quickly as he could, stumbling into the doorframe, and out of sight. You were left to your own devices, standing in the middle of the bathroom, hair a mess, lips bright and painful, and a mark on your neck from your best friend.

If you could call him that…

—

It’s as if he disappeared.

You haven't seen Jongho in days. You were even too nervous to go to his room this time, not knowing how to approach him after kissing him like that. After you felt the hardness of his cock against your stomach. The wetness between your thighs. Something you have never felt before.

After a few, empty, lonely nights in your room, you took the initiative to go find him at the late hour of midnight—To ask if he feels this intense craving for you just like you do for him. But when you arrived at his dorm, San told you he wasn't there.

“He’s been super sick. I thought he was with you,” He shrugged, confused.

“He’s sick?” your eyes widened. 

San nodded, messy hair from sleep. “Sorry, maybe he’s with Mingi?”

After your encounter with San, you made your way to Mingi’s dorm. But, once again, Jongho was nowhere to be found.

So you went to the only place you thought to look.

And there he was, under the bright lights, taking a shot at the three-point line on the courts near the rec center. He missed the shot and stood there a moment before going to grab his rebound.

But the ball rolled to where you were, as if it meant to. Jongho stood still as you grabbed the ball.

He stayed silent. You weren't sure whether to move closer or just pass him the ball back.

“Are you going to give me it?” He spoke blandly, sweat dripping down his forehead despite the cold air surrounding him.

You sighed, putting the ball under your arm. “Jongho, it’s cold out here.”

He sniffed, his nose red. He didn't look at you. “Just give me the ball, dammit.”

You blinked, watching the cold air show as you exhaled. “Why are you ignoring me?”

He rolled his eyes, taking in a breath. “Dammit, y/n—”

“You’re doing it on purpose,” you began to dribble the ball—very sloppily, but it didn't matter. You dribbled past him towards the hoop, tossing the ball up, watching it go through the net. “Ignoring me, I mean.”

“No, I’m not,” he huffed, moving to grab the ball from your shot. He made his way back up to the top of the key, away from you.

“Yes, you are.” you walked up to him, putting your hand out so he couldn't shoot. “Just be honest!”

With a huff of cold air, jongho tossed the ball away, an aggravated look on his face. “For fuck’s sake, y/n, Yes. I’m annoyed.”

You blinked, standing only a few feet away from him. “Why?” you asked, probably stupidly, given the irritated look on his face.

He sighed, tightening his hands into fists. “...Because….because I’m a man, too, you know.” he started, running his hands through his hair aggressively, clenching his jaw. “ You change in front of me, kiss me, do everything that causes my brain to spin. I’m sick of acting like I'm okay with it.”

You stood there, frozen. The air felt even colder as winter wrapped its arms around your bare skin.

“Does that mean you didn't like it?” you wondered out loud, possibly too immature, too inexperienced. You had no idea what you were feeling, why you felt this way. All you knew is that you wanted to spend every moment with him, to kiss him, to lay in bed with him. Things you did normally, but things felt different. 

“Didn't like what?” He asked, his eyes wide.

“The kiss,” you looked into his eyes. “The kisses.”

Jongho stood tensely, unsure of what to do. You watched his eyes flicker up to the sky as little flurries fell, catching themselves in his hair.

“y/n,” he took a sharp breath in. “don't you get it? I can't kiss you. You can't kiss me. You can't….touch me like that, change in front of me, and not expect me to get flustered!” He nearly shouted the last part, and turned to the side away from you, aggravated beyond words.

“I….I’m sorry,” you spoke out, taking a step towards him. “I’m sorry that I feel this way—”

“Feel what?” he scoffed, turning back to you, a pained smirk on his lips. “You should be sorry for making me feel this….for causing me so many headaches, for god sake why the fuck am I out here when it’s fucking snowing, jesus christ you piss me off—”

“Jongho,” you interrupted his freakout, his word vomit. He stared at you with those beautiful eyes of his. “What are you trying to say?” you spoke in a small voice.

His eyes were frantic, going back and forth from eye to eye. “I…. can't do this.”

“Do what?” you felt the flurries dance against your skin, dance as they fell around you.

“I can't act like your friend anymore.” He bit his lip. “You have no idea what you do to me. What you’ve been doing to me.”

You took a step closer, but he backed away.

“I don't understand—”

“Just go,” He pleaded. 

“You do things to me too!” you groaned, finally done with his attitude. “Will you knock it off? You’re not the only one confused here—”

“Oh, I confuse you?” He looked at you like you had two heads. “I’m sorry, I only kissed you because you were trying to get another guy. I kissed you so you could know how to do it, but you want to know something?” He paused, suddenly right up on you, the space gone between you. “I haven't kissed anyone either. I just…you. It’s just been you! I didn't know what I was doing, either!”

“Is that so bad?” you pleaded, your eyes bleeding into his. “Is it so bad that you had to kiss me? Should I apologize for wanting to do it again? That I haven't stopped thinking about you since?” you frantically looked into his eyes. 

“Just…” Jongho sighed, his eyes a bit watery. “Lleave me be.” 

The look on his face was enough. You took a step back, and then another. 

“I won't apologize for my feelings, for whatever this feeling is,” you admitted. “But I am sorry I caused you trouble.” before you left him there, you looked up to him once more, snow falling around you. “Good luck at your game, tomorrow.”

You turned on your heel, not understanding a single thing that just unfolded, that was just said. He made no sense; you made none, either. It was just a bunch of words, unnecessary words, rifting your friendship. But one thing was for certain—you couldn't repair this without a few missing pieces. 

Jongho stood as still as a statue as he watched you walk away.

—

You sat on the bench in your cheerleading uniform, your heart beating a mile a minute as you watched the game unfold in front of you. 

It was approaching halftime. Jongho was sprinting down the sideline, limping slightly as he moved. He passed the ball beautifully to San, who was wide open for the layup. 

You couldn't focus on anything—didn't even cheer when San made the shot. You just sat and stared into space, your eyes following jongho, watching his wince as he backed up down the court. 

“He’s hurt,” you muttered under your breath, stomach tightening. 

Jongho continued playing his heart out, but you knew something was wrong. However, as halftime came, he walked away from the court just fine and into the locker room, not giving you a single passing glance as he walked past you. Seonghwa did, however, but you weren't even paying attention to that.

After a few long moments, the team came back out. You had to cheer, but your heart wasn't in it. Jongho, once again, walked right by you, and when you were about to jump up and ignore everything that was said yesterday to make sure you were okay, the buzzer rang. 

The game went on, the score going back and forth until the last quarter. Jongho stood at mid-court, calling a play, but the guy guarding him was aggressive. He tried to make a move around him, squeaking his sneakers against the hardwood, but it was no use. The defender followed him with ease, sliding his feet in perfect position.

The gym was in hysterics as Jongho pushed for the bucket, taking a side step into a euro step, but suddenly, oh so suddenly, Jongho crashed to the ground in a thud before getting the shot off.

The gym went silent. Jongho hissed in pain, his eyebrows knit tight. The athletic trainer ran out to see him as the game was put on hold with less than a minute to go. You stood up, not even realizing what you were doing. All you could feel was a pain in your chest as you saw him hurt, the intense feeling to take his pain away. You watched in despair as he was lifted off the floor, as he was carried out of the gym.

You swallowed hard, your ears ringing. Your teammates tried to get you focused, as the game was going to continue, but you jumped up and pushed through, making your way to the locker room desperately. 

“Jongho?” you panted, turning the corner to enter the boy's locker room. You sucked in a breath as you see him in pain, lying down on the bench, a few others around him as he nearly cried in pain. 

“Jongho!” you cried out, rushing to his side. His eyes were frantic, wide, a mess. The trainer took off his knee brace slowly as you approached. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Jongho met your gaze through his watery eyes, every other emotion gone other than…whatever this was. He almost let out a sigh of relief as he saw you. You knelt down next to him, gripping his hand, and he held yours tighter. 

“y/n,” he murmured, sucking in a sharp breath as the trainer surveyed his leg. “Did I…did I do it again? Please tell me I didn't—”

You looked at the man who was assessing his injury. “Did he tear it again?” you panicked, remembering how awful this was for him back then. How traumatizing it was, how horrible it was for him to gain his strength again. You couldn't stand to see him in pain.

“I…I don't know,” the man admitted. “It’s too swollen to tell. You’ll need to get this checked out—”

“Goddammit,” Jongho hissed, shutting his eyes tightly, and swallowing hard. That was when you realized that it might not even be the pain from the injury—no, it was his trauma. The memory of his hard work all down the drain. 

“I’m here,” you breathed, tucking his hair behind his ear and away from his face. “It’ll be okay.”

The buzzer rang, and screams followed. Jongho looked at you, not a care in the world other than that you were there with him, just like before.

“You’ll be alright,” you repeated softly, your heart aching at his pain. “This will be okay.”

—

“From the MRI, it looks like everything is still intact,” the doctor spoke with a tone of arrogance. “You did weaken your surgical graft, however. You’ll need some PT and rest.”

Jongho stared down at his leg, his hand still gripping yours. He breathed a sigh of relief but didn't say anything else. 

“I’ll write up a referral for that, so just hold on a moment.”

You were left in silence in the middle of the emergency room, Jongho sitting up straight on the bed with a big icepack on top of his knee. He was starting right at it, his lips downturned.

You wanted to ease his troubles. To make him feel better. Nothing felt worse than seeing him like this.

You didn't know what to say. You really couldn't say anything. You were so overwhelmed with the pain you felt as you looked at him as if it were your own. You hated his tears that begged to fall and never did.

“Hey,” you mumbled softly, squeezing his hand. It took him a minute to move his gaze to you, and when he did, his eyes spoke a thousand words. “See? It will be okay.”

He sighed, his face contorting as he fought his tears. “I…I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you weren't thinking of anything else other than what was in front of you. You rubbed your thumb against his knuckles, trying to soothe him.

“For how I acted.” He looked down at your hands, how yours was touching his, how his fingers were tight around yours. He didn't want to let go—neither did you. “I was just upset.”

“I know,” you nodded, swallowing. “I was, too.”

He looked into your eyes. “y/n, I…” he paused, the beeping of his heart rate speeding up in the background. “I just don't know why I acted like that I…I guess I got caught up in how I feel about you, and it confused me.”

You blinked. “How do you feel about me?”

He let out an uneasy laugh. “Isn't it obvious?”

You shook your head. “I… don't really know much of anything. Much of these feelings,” you acknowledged, biting your bottom lip anxiously. 

He let out a genuine laugh. “Me too.”

“So, how do you feel?” You tucked a piece of your hair that fell loose from your bow, suddenly aware of how much of a wreck you probably looked like. You were still in your cheer uniform, Jongho in his basketball one, and you were sure you had smeared mascara everywhere. “About me, I mean.”

He took in a sharp breath. “This isn't fair, I’m like, high from pain meds. I don't know what i’m saying.”

You smiled widely, feeling such immense love for the man in front of you.

Oh shit.

Are you….in love?

“All I know is that I haven't stopped thinking about you since I met you,” He chuckled anxiously. “I don't understand why, and it's just increasingly worse after you keep kissing me, it's making my head spin.”

Jongho yawned slightly after his somewhat confession, his eyes fluttering. 

He was so pretty. So, so pretty. You wanted to sleep with him. Next to him, cuddle with him, kiss his face, his eyelids, his cheeks, his everything. You wanted him to do everything to you that you dreamed of.

Oh fuck, you definitely are in love with him.

“Holy fuck—” you paused, staring at him, wide eyed at your realization.

“What?” He furrowed his brows.

You tried to control your overwhelming thoughts. “I just realized something…” you met his gaze, holding onto it tightly. “Are we…are we in love? I mean, I think at least I might be—”

“Holy shit, we might be,” Jongho gulped, a knowing smile curling at his lips. As if he knew this, at least on his end, for much longer than you have. He looked at you, then at his leg, and back at you. “Are you in love with me?”

“I think so?” you questioned, your chest aching. Jongho’s heart began to beat faster and faster, as seen on the monitor next to him. You leaned towards him, blushing as his heart rate jumped over one hundred. 

Jongho let out an anxious laugh. “You sound super confident.”

You would've kissed him right then and there, prove to him that you loved him, if it wasn't for that awful doctor. 

You helped jongho hobble out of the hospital, his leg wrapped in ice and his arms wrapped around you. You were hyper aware of the smell of sweat, the light remnant of his woodsy cologne. You heard his breath hitch as your fingertips curled around his arm as you walked toward the street for a cab.

“God, standing up really messed me up.” he wobbled a bit. “I don't know what they gave me, but fuck, I feel wonderful,” he giggled, nudging his head into the crook of your neck.

There was a mix of comfort and chaos as you got in the cab, his head on your shoulder, his hair a mess. His arm was slung over you, his eyes closed, his lips parted against your collarbone. He felt comforting, yes, but also his damn lips started to move against your skin.

“Jongho,” you breathed, trying to keep quiet as the cab driver carried on. “Stop it—”

“Mmmh,” he groaned into your neck, kissing it again, trailing up towards your jawline. 

“The fuck, did they give you viagra?” you nearly choked as his hand that was around your shoulder fell to your waist, tightening on the curve above your hip. His hand moved lower, past your hip, meeting the curve right before he could reach your—

“Hey,” you whisper yelled, smacking his cheek lightly. 

He opened his eyes, those brown irises sparkling despite the dark car. “Oh, its y/n,” he smiled, meeting your gaze, but you watched it fall to your lips. “You look pretty.”

You scoffed. “You don't know what you're talking about right now—”

“Oh, I do,” he smiled lopsidedly, his hand now coming up to cradle your cheek. “I know what i’m doing.”

You smirked. “I think you’re loopy.”

“Maybe a little,” he shrugged, smiling, his eyes curving into smiles too. “But I know what I want to do.”

You tilted your head, raising your brows. “And what’s that?”

He smiled villianously, teeth barred. “Do you really want to know?”

You held in your laugh, but managed to nod.

He took in a breath, letting it out in an exaggerated sigh. “I want to fuck you so bad,” he huffed, his head falling right back onto your shoulder. “So, so bad. I’ve always wanted to—”

“Jongho,” you blinked. “You’re high from pain meds, you don't know what you're—”

“Oh, but I do know,” he sat up quickly, eyes dazed, hair a mess on top of his head. He reached out a hand, tucking your hair behind your ears with a boyish smile. He focused on your face, on your eyes, your lips. His expression changed, his smile falling. “I wanted to tell you about how I feel about you.”

You bit your lip. “You did.” 

He waved a hand, flopping it around. “Nah, I didn't.”

“Yes, don't you remember?” you scoffed playfully. “We just had this whole talk like twenty minutes ago—”

“Aye, stop it, I had something to say but now I forgot!” he groaned, tossing his head back against the headrest. He then turned his head to your direction. “Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?”

“You just did,” you smiled.

“Oh, that’s right.” he swallowed, looking at your lips. “Did I ever tell you that I want to kiss you? Like, all the time?”

You shook your head, giving up on the fight against his high ass. 

“Well, I just want to kiss you, over and over again, and then when you started kissing me, I think I went crazy,” he blinked slowly, eyes covering every inch of your face. He leaned forward. “You really fucked me up, you know?”

You frowned. “Did I?”

“Pfft,” he huffed. “Are you kidding? You would change in front of me, lay in bed with me, touch me, everything I….” he swallowed hard. “How was I supposed to react to your tits? Your ass? You think i’ve never gotten hard from it?” you wanted to shut his nonsense up, but he kept going on. “I’ve had to literally leave just to jack off so you didn't find out—”

“Woah, woah,” you rose your eyebvrows. “You’re a mess right now, youll regret what you’re saying tomorrow—”

“I wont,” he sniffed, eyes meeting yours. “I’m done with acting like I don't think about you naked—”

“Jongho, shut it, we’re not alone—”

“We should be alone so I can do everything I want to you,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple. “God, I want to do everything to you.”

You wanted to push him away. You wanted to tell him no—but…his lips, his words, his breath felt so good, so intoxicating. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, to the corner of your lips. “Can we fuck now?”

You closed your eyes, taking in a breath. “The hell is wrong with you? We’re in a cab—”

He ignored you, his lips continuing to find their way around your face. “When we get back?”

You looked down at his knee, how it was wrapped, how much pain it had caused him. “You just hurt your leg, and you’re not in your right mind.”

“Oh, i’m completely in my right mind,” he kissed your ear, letting a little breath of air tickle you. “I’ve wanted this forever.”

You sighed, your breath shaking, your chest tight. You had absolutely no experience—you’ve never had sex, never did anything with a man other than what you were doing now, and the little kiss you gave seonghwa. 

“I’m a virgin,” you whispered softly, embarrased. However, you felt the most comfortable with jongho. He was your everything.

“So am I,” he admitted, smiling. “We can learn together.”

“God, we’re so lame,” you breathed, smiling. 

Jongho, however, did not care about any words. He nuzzled into your collarbone, pressing a kiss there, over and over again. 

“So, does that mean we can have sex?”

—

You assisted jongho into your building, helping him into the elevator and pressing your floor while he leaned against the wall. 

The silence was deafening. You were sure he was able to hear your heart beat through your chest.

As the doors closed, you let a sigh out. 

“y/n,” he breathed. Behind you, his eyes were on you.

“Hm?” you hummed, afraid to turn to him, afraid of what you would do, what he would do. 

“I love you,” he spoke. 

You’ve both basically said it only an hour before. Only then, it didn't feel real. Now, maybe it was the fact that Jongho’s eyes have cleared up, his expression was raw. He looked nervous, he looked anxious. This was all new, all foreign—but Jongho wasn't new, wasn't different. He’s always been him, been by your side, your rock, your everything.

“I….love you too, dummy.”

When the elevator reached your floor, it took you a second to move. You helped him down the hall, and when you reached your door, you paused.

“Do you…want to…” you trailed off, unsure if that was only the drugs talking earlier.

When you turned to jongho, he had a sinister smile on his face. 

“You mean,” he nodded toward your room. “What I think you mean?”

“Well, jeez,” you scoffed, turning around to open your door. “As if you weren't the one all over me in the cab—”

A second later, you both stood in the entrance of your room, both of your hearts beating like crazy.

He entered the room after you, slowly shutting the door. The room was dark—you weren't even trying to turn the lights on.

You turned to jongho, watching him stand with his fists at his sides, his fingers gripping the fabric of his basketball shorts.

“How do we…” you took in a sharp breath, meeting his gaze. His eyes were wide, dripping with love, lust, with so much. You weren't sure if they always looked like that, if they looked at you like that. Those eyes….

“Let’s just, he winced a bit as he stepped closer. “Just stay where you are.”

When he got close enough, you saw the worry in his expression. The hesitancy, the love. He looked up, and his eyes spoke a thousand unspeakable words. His hand reached out, pausing at the hem of your cheerleading uniform. 

You let out an anxious laugh at his face, as he looked so conflicted. You didn't say anything though, and after a moment, he tugged your top right over your head, grinning like a goofball at the red lacy bra you had on.

“For me?” he murmured, his hand subconsciously drifting to run over your skin, his fingertips pressing against the thin fabric of your bra. He met your gaze, his jaw tightening.

You reached for his top now, the loose jersey easily pulling over his head—the jersey that was hiding the soft curves of muscle. You’ve seen him shirtless many times, an unimaginable amount of times—but this time, it was different. You ran a hand down the pane of his chest, across the mounds of muscle, down his soft but muscular frame. He was perfect, absolutely sexy, breathtaking, gorgeous. 

He shivered under your touch, meeting your gaze. He moved to take his shorts off, but winced. “Hold on, i’ll take them off—” but you both leaned down at the same time, crashing your heads together, causing a storm of laughter.

“God, we’re so not good at this,” He chuckled, smiling bright even in the dark room.

“No, not really,” you grinned, reaching down at his hips, pulling his shorts off, tugging a bit at the erection that bulged out. You held in your pride, the fact that he was already so turned on by just taking your clothes off.

His shorts fell down to his ankles, his underwear with them, leaving him completely naked, completely vulnerable in front of you. He looked at you with those damn eyes, those irises that held every emotion possible for you.

You took a second to take him in, his thickness, his length. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware that…that would go inside you, and it would probably tear your virgin self to shreds.

He then gripped the waistband of your skirt, tugging you to him. He was slightly taller than you, so when your body hit his, you felt his cock against your lower stomach, feeling a pulsing ache in your body. His fingers glided against the bare skin of your waist as he pulled your skirt over your hips, and when they fell, you were left standing in your mismatched underwear, begging him to take it off of you, too.

However, he just stood there like a deer in headlights, staring at the curves of your body, and the smoothness of your skin. His mouth parted, his eyes grew wide, and his hands twitched to touch you, to ravage you, to swallow you whole as if you were roadkill and he was a vulture.

An anxious vulture.

He reached around you, the heat of his body warming you, and his hands clasped around the clip of your bra. He fiddled with it for a good moment, and as he started getting irritated that he couldn't get it, you laughed. “Goddamn this thing has you locked up like fort knox—”

“Do you want me to get it—”

“No, no, i’ll be extremely embarassed, let me do it.” he continued to try to get it off you, and finally, it fell off you, onto the ground, and Jongho stood with a proud smile on his lips. “Fuck yeah, finally.”

But, right after his words of triumph, his eyes fell to your full breasts. His eyes widened, and he gave into his desires, letting himself grab one, calloused fingers gliding against your nipple.

“Oh, fuck y/n,” he breathed, both his hands coming up to cradle your breasts, to feel you up. He took in a breath, eyes unable to leave your body. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

He dipped his head, taking in a breast into his mouth, flicking his tongue over your nipple. You felt your stomach tighten, felt your wetness pool at your thighs. He looked up to your eyes as he sucked, and when he saw your ecstatic expression, he quickly pulled away.

He didn't spare an extra second to claw at your underwear, satisfyingly watching them fall to the ground, leaving you both completely naked in the middle of the room. He looked at you, love dripping from his chocolate eyes.

And thats when you gripped the back of his neck. “I’m sorry if I don't do this very well,” you admitted, twirling your fingers in his hair. He didn't seem to even hear what you said as his eyes remained on your lips.

“God, we cant be friends anymore,” he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, he hesitated, lips hovering over yours, his breath shaky, tangling with yours. “Definetly not, fuck.”

You tilted your chin forward, lips so close, so so close. His hands found your hips, fingernails leaving marks in your skin. 

And with one last look into your eyes, jongho sighed, letting go of everything. He pressed his soft lips to yours, taking you in like he hasn't kissed you before. Like he’s always wanted to. He breathed into you, moving his hands to cradle your face, to get as close to you as possible. 

You arched your body against his, bucking your hips into his, and he grunted in response. You fell backwards onto the bed, him on top of you, but as you fell, he bit your lip so hard you let out a little yelp.

“Oh shit,” he gasped, parting from you, eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay? Did that hurt? I didn't mean to do that—-”

“Shh, shut your face,” you patted him on the cheek, giggling at his reaction. 

He adjusted himself on top of you. “Here, make sure you’re head’s on your pillow, I want you to be comfortable.” he adjusted you, too, and he looked so sincere and serious it made you laugh. “Why are you laughing?” he asked, but couldn't help but let out a little chuckle, too. “Stop, this is serious.”

You laughed even more. “Sorry, sorry, you’re just really cute.” you watched his eyes twinkle as he looked at you. “And you look so pretty on top of me.”

He smirked, holding back his giggle. “Stop it.”

“I’m just saying,” you reached a hand out to wrap around his neck, tugging his lips right back down to yours, kissing him softly. “Mhm. I cant get enough of this.”

He smiled into the kiss. “Me neither, I cant believe you’re under me right now.”

You couldn't help the blush that heated your cheeks. You were suddenly aware of his dick against your thighs, of your skin against his. You looked into his eyes, looked at how they were looking at you, how he held himself over you. 

And then, after a look of utter love, he smiled and kissed you. This time, he stuck his tongue into your mouth, running over the ridges of the roof of your mouth. You opened your mouth wider, deepening the kiss, knocking your nose against his. 

His lips parted as he gasped for air, his chest heaved against yours. His hand delicately glided up your ribs, meeting the skin of your breasts. He gripped your breast in his hand, moaning into your mouth, hips bucking into yours. You couldve sworn you felt his heartbeat through his chest as he made out with you, as his hands covered you. He pulled away only to make sure you still wanted this, and when you nodded, he reached down to line himself up with you. The concept of sex always felt so difficult. So worrisome, so new. But with jongho, it felt like you've done this forever.

“If it hurts, tell me,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you gently. “I’ll take care of you.”

You literally couldve came at those words. You swallowed hard, and forced out a nod.

He pecked your lips, smiling, kissing them again. His hands hesitated, not knowing what to touch as his tip pressed into your cunt, his breath shortening, sweat dripping down his forehead.

You reached out, gliding a hand across his cheek, across his lips, smiling up at him.

“I….” he hesitated before entering you. “Are you wet enough? Should I spit?”

He looked terrified. Absolutely terrified. So you ran a hand soothingly through his hair, watching his eyes shut tight in pleasure, in delight. “Don't worry about anything and just do it.”

“Okay,” he mumbled, letting out a little laugh. “Okay, okay.”

And then, his eyes bled into yours as he tilted his hips, pushing his cock slowly into you, so gently, as if he was terrified of hurting you. You watched his mouth part, watched his expression change to euphoria as he filled you, every inch sparking a new feeling. 

He snapped his hips, his length fully in you, and you nearly cried out from the feeling. You moaned as he moved slowly, clawing at his shoulders, this feeling unlike anything else—your damn vibrator held nothing on Jongho.

He relaxed his expression, his eyes fluttering open, looking right down on you. You met his gaze as he moved in and out of you.

“Does it hurt, if it hurts, I can stop—”

“Shut the hell up and fuck me, jongho,” you grumbled, your hands finding a home on his hips, the feeling of them snapping under your hands sent you spiraling. You moaned as his dick reached a new spot, as you felt your walls tighten around him. You wanted to cry out, rip your hair out, tear at his skin as you felt the intense crave for him. The way he looked down on you fueled the fire in your hips, in your back. You felt an ache in your hips, slamming your head back, fighting the urge to claw the bedsheets.

But then you sae his grimace, and you frowned. “Oh my god, you’re knee, you’re in pain.”

He kept moving, but he was definitely in pain. “I-I think the meds wore off—”

Without thinking, you pushed him off you, making him roll over so now he was the one on th bottom. You straddled him, looking at his shocked expression, how his breaths quickened, how his cock twitched for you. To be inside you. 

You had an unimaginable amount of knowledge from all your smutty books, so you might as well try to use what you know, right?

“y/n, what are you—”

“Let me please you,” you breathed, and with a slow, calculative movement, you sat on his dick, sliding his length into you, once again gaining the extreme pleasure of his expression and the absolute desperation he expressed. He gasped as you moved up and down on his cock, and he watched you, watched him dissapear into you. He slammed his head back into the pillow, his face contorting, moans fluttering through his lips, his eyebrows knitting together in pleasure and a million other things.

“God, fuck,” his hands gripped your hips as you rode him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his breaths shallow. He gasped for air. “You feel so good, oh my god. So fucking good.”

You tossed your head back, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the smoothness of it. He blinked up at you, a smile on his lips, completely in bliss.

He moved his hands with you, nearly lifting you up as you moved on his cock, moved on his body. You forgot how strong he was.

“You sure you’ve never done this?” he gasped, his eyes shut tight. “Because fuck, this is better than I ever imagined.”

You smiled down on him, giddy at his words. You moved even faster, causing him to moan, and moan, and moan.

You didn't even know what to say—you just enjoyed his little commentary as he took you in, his gaze dripping like honey.

“Godamn,” he hissed, eyes meeting yours. He looked frantic. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he seethed, hips slamming up into yours. “Fuck, you’re so hot, so so hot.”

You felt him twitch inside you, felt your walls collapse. You began to see spots in your vision as he moved his hips, too, just as you were. You felt so much pride as he looked absolutely pathetic underneath you, his gaze hazy, his lips bright red from your kisses.

“I love you, I…love you,” he hissed out. “I love you.”

You reached your climax just from looking at him, crying out in a moan, leaning forward over his body. His hands flooded all over you, sending sparks at every touch, every spot of your body. And when you came, when you felt the rush of cum, the rush of the high finally hit, you continued to move as he did. Then, suddenly, his eyes grew so wide, he lifted you off his cock hastily, gasping for air.

You leaned back on his legs, onto your heels, trying to breathe, trying to see, as his hands grasped his own dick, moving up and down before he came, his cum shooting onto you, over your chest, your boobs, your stomach. You watched him gasp as it happened, his lips curling up in an embarrassed smile.

“Oh, oops,” he laughed, looking absolutely delectable with the hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes wide with pleasure. “Totally meant to do that….”

Something burned under your skin, something foreign, something you never felt before. You’ve only read about this feeling, this moment. But now, here you were. You just had sex, sex with your best friend, and it was the best thing you’ve ever felt before. You needed more, so so much more.

“Please tell me we can do that again,” you breathed, falling onto him, sticking to him, feeling the beat of his heart as you pressed your ear to his chest.

“Oh, fuck yes,” his hand wrapped around you, holding you to him. He pressed a gentle, exasperated his to the top of your head. “You don't even have to ask that, i’m planning on doing that all night.”

You moved a bit so you could lay against his side, totally forgetting about the cum on you that now got all over the place. “You seemed like you knew what you were doing for a virgin,” you side eyed him. “You have to be lying.”

He smirked, a light blush on his cheeks. “Uh, well,” he swallowed, eyes looking all over your face. “I mean, I have been thinking about what I would do if I ever got to sleep with you.”

You furrowed your brows. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Well I didn't get to do exactly what I wanted,” he looked down at your lips, at your body pressed to his. “Because of my damn knee, but,” he pressed a kiss to your nose. “That means we have to do this again.”

“Oh, baby,” you pinched his cheek. “We’ll be doing this way more than we probably should.”

He smiled, that blush still on his face, across his nose. He looked so beautiful, so so pretty, it actually hurt you to look at him.

You kissed him, kissed his lips, his nose, his flushed cheeks. 

And you looked at him, at his eyes, the same eyes you’ve known forever. 

“I love you, Jongho.”

—

The next morning, you parted ways with a sleepy jongho, late for your early class. You couldn't stop thinking about him all day, that is, until you ran into Mingi and San in the library cafe.

Mingi grinned like the cheshire cat, an eye smile brighter than the sun. “Well, hello there, you.”

You rolled your eyes as the line for the coffee moved. San and Mingi stood behind you, giggling like little kids.

“So, Jongho didn't come back last night,” San started, and you quickly cut in.

“So? He always stays in my room, its not anything odd—”

“Oh, sweetie,” Mingi crossed his arms, grinning. “But it is odd.”

“Why?” you crossed your arms, too, facing him. San stood by with a little chuckle.

“Because he came back to the room before his class and his jersey was on inside out—”

“So? He likes to sleep shirtless—”

“His lips were covered in red lipstick—”

“I don't know what you were talking about—”

“Oh, and he told me that he had sex with you—”

You slammed a hand against San’s mouth, giving him a death glare while mingi giggled like a school girl. You grimaced, pulling your hand away. “Shut up, or i’ll make you.”

“Ooh, so scary,” San waved his hands in the air dramatically. “Anyway, are you dating him now? You better date him, he’s been dreaming of that for so long.”

You blinked. “I mean, we said we loved each other, but nothing about dating….”

Mingi smirked. “Welp, guess you better go figure that out.”

After class, you found yourself in front of Jongho’s door, a shake in your breath as you knocked. He opened the door, shirtless, a smile on his face the minute he met your gaze.

And then he grabbed you by the waist and planted a big kiss onto your lips, smiling into it, and then pulled away.

“Hi,” you smiled.

“Hi.” he tilted his head, looking you up and down.

“I heard you told San everything.”

He bit his lip. “Was I supposed to keep it to myself?”

You shook your head, smiling.

“Do you want to come in?” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Mhm,” you nodded, following him in.

The minute the door shut, Jongho slammed you up against it, swallowing you whole with his mouth as he kissed you. His hands gripped the side of your head, tugging at your hair, causing you to let out a hiss. He took the opportunity of your open mouth to shove his tongue into you, exploring your mouth with pleasure. He moaned into you, and you couldn't help but moan yourself.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up, slamming your back into the door as he held you to him. He then started to walk towards his bed, but you realized his injury.

“Jongho, you’re leg,” you breathed with worry, trying to get him to put you down. “You’ll hurt yourself—”

“Shut up,” he spoke into your mouth, indeed shutting you up immediately. You sighed as he kissed you, as he touched you. He gently set you down onto his bed, and you went under his duvet since he kept his room like an icebox. 

He followed you suit, crawling on top of you under the covers, but you had a better idea. Once again, you flipped him so he was on his back, and with one quick look at the shock in his gaze, you kissed his collarbone, then his chest, down his sternum, over the soft muscle of his stomach. You slowly pulled his pants down over his cock, his underwear along with them.

You felt his muscles tighten underneath your lips, you heard his breath hitch as you moved lower and lower, until your lips met the soft skin of his hard cock. He gasped his hands searching for you under the covers, his legs moving in pleasure as you licked his tip.

“Oh my…oh…” he arched his back against your kiss, your hands holding onto his hips as you surrounded your mouth around his erection. He thrashed against you, absolutely liquid in your embrace.

But before you could take him fully, the door of his room opened, and in came san blabbing about god knows what.

You quickly moved, trying to lay flat the best you could to hide. Jongho sat up fast, pulling the blanket up and bunching it around his dick, making sure it wasn't so obvious that you were under there….and that he was literally throbbing hard.

“I ran into y/n earlier, she admitted to it!” san roared, and you assumed he was taking his shoes off considering the sound. “Good for you buddy, I know how long you wanted to tap that—”

“Ah, yeah,” Jongho awkwardly laughed. You wish you could see the look on his face, the embarrassment. Just how long did he want you?

You couldn't help but stroke your hand against his dick, causing him to gasp.

“You alright?” San questioned, now making his way to the other side of the room. 

You continued to rub him. Jongho gripped the blanket tight.

“Peachy,” Jongho grunted.

San didn't speak for a while.

“Are you gonna finally ask her out?”

You paused.

Jongho sighed. “Huh?” he was totally out of it.

“I mean, you’ve been in love with y/n for ages, you might as well make if official while you can.”

“Am I?” Jongho swallowed hard. “Am I in love with her?”

“Ah shut up, you know it,” San scoffed,and a bed creaked—assumingly his. You decided to continue to suck Jongho off, taking him in your mouth, causing him to jolt.

“I uh, i’ll ask her out later,” Jongho took in a breath. “But, um, do you think you could….you know, give me a moment?”

“A moment, why—”San paused, then gasped. “Are you beating your meat right now? Oh fuck man, my bad!”

You nearly cackled against Jongho at the way they conversed with each other, how normal it seemed. It made you wonder how often this happened, how often Jongho did this to himself, how many times he thought about you while doing it…

That turned you on even more.

The minute you heard the door shut, you tossed the covers over your head, meeting Jongho’s shocked, mind-boggled expression.

“Jeez, y/n, fuck,” he couldn't help but smile as he looked at you, as you sucked him. “You’re a freak.”

“Well, you should see the things I read,” you chuckled, and then licked up the column of his cock, causing him to take hold of your head.

He shoved you up and down on his dick, his fingers tearing into your scalp, causing you to choke on him. He groaned, moaned, hummed every note possible, and then without warning, he came into your mouth, his body going still, his eyes open wide as he watched you swallow his load.

Oh, he tasted better than you ever imagined. 

His saltiness still coated your lips as you leaned over to kiss him, his eyes lost in you. He looked so in love, so in lust, in everything.

“Are you gonna ask me out?” you asked in between kisses.

“Mhm,” he leaned into your kiss, not wanting to break apart. 

“Are we dating now?”

Kiss.

He blinked, looking up at you. His smile defined beauty, his lips desire. 

“If you’d like.”

“Of course.”

You kissed him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck, rolling around in bed with him. He chuckled, smiled, nuzzled his head into you. 

“I have practice,” you kissed his cheek, trying to get up, but his arms wrapped around you, holding you to him. “I have to go.”

“One more minute,” he mumbled into your ear as he nibbled it, then kissed it. “Just a minute.”

You smiled. “Okay, fine, I guess I can spare a minute.”

He held you, breathed in your scent, his scent on your lips. He didn't let go, even after the minute, and you hand to force yourself out of his hold.

“Meet me in my room tonight?” you raised a brow,

He nodded. “Of fucking course.”

You quickly tried to fix your hair up, tucking it behind your ears, before you gave your boyfriend a wink while you walked out.

And, funny enough, when you shut the door behind you and turned around, San stood there, smirking devilishly.

“Well damn, when’s it my turn?”

[delicatebarness]

i think he knows | chapter four

Summary: Tension rises for the youngest Rogers as she fears Steve knows.

Warnings: A use of 'Y/N' at the beginning. Wanda is a hopeless romantic.

Word Count: 1031

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A/N: I need to slow down, this series is now 4 weeks ahead of the schedule I made. And, I haven't even started writing the next chapter of Winter's Child yet. This chapter is a relatively small one as I'm planning to make chapter five the longest one yet.

Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @cjand10

Wanda followed you around the library as you searched the shelves, her eyes widened with excitement as you recounted last night’s ride home with Bucky. She was hanging on your every word.

“You, Y/N Rogers, rode on a motorbike!” She exclaimed in a hushed tone, she could barely be contained. “Tell me everything! How was it? What did Bucky say?” She tried to get you to look her in the eye so she could read what your mouth wasn’t saying. “Wait, what did Steve do? Your dad?” She gasped.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her excitement, her infectious curiosity. “It was… exhilarating,” you admitted with a gentle sigh, the adrenaline and the way the wind rushed against your skin, you remembered every second of it. “He made me feel so safe, Wanda. He even made sure I was wearing his helmet.” 

Her eyes widened further, you didn’t know she could do that. “He gave you his helmet? Oh my, ugh, that’s so romantic!” She let out a quiet squeal. 

Shrugging her comment off, you tried to downplay the romantic aspect. “I think he was just being a good host, making sure I was safe.” You continued to recount the ride to your best friend, describing the thrill of the moment. How you felt having your arms wrapped around him, clenching his Henley shirt in your hands. You found yourself longing for that feeling again. 

She did continue to ask about Steve and your dad, but you shrugged her off again explaining quickly that Bucky stopped at the corner of the street and watched you walk back from there. 

“Sounds like something out of a romance novel,” She mused whilst leaning against the bookshelf you were searching through. She wore a dreamy smile on her lips as her mind wandered. You were positive that she was thinking about Vision. They had been crushing on each other from the second she moved here. Neither one was confident enough to make the first move, even though they were both aware of the other’s feelings. 

You let out a huffed laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know about that,” A hint of uncertainty crept into your voice. “It was just a ride home.”

~

As the day progressed, you found yourself sitting at your usual table in the cafeteria with Wanda and Peter. The chatter of your classmates filled the air but your attention was barely focused on your friend's conversation.

“Are you two going to the game on Friday?” Peter’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he nodded towards the banner reminding you and others of the date, time, and which school it was against. 

“I heard it’s going to be a big one,” Wanda replied, picking at the sandwich that was placed on her tray. Her mood had shifted from joyful to disgust the second she realized she had forgotten her lunch and would have to eat the stale bread the cafeteria served. 

“Yeah… Steve’s been practicing nonstop,” Your attention had been drawn to a tense moment at Steve’s usual table. Steve and Sam, his best friend and right-hand man for almost everything, stood in deep conversation. Their expressions were serious, Steve’s frown had his eyebrows knotted together tightly. Sam’s gestures were animated, he was trying to explain something to your brother while he listened intently. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

Wanda and Peter’s attention snapped to where you had been looking, they both shrugged. “The game I’m guessing,” Wanda shrugged as she got back to the sandwich in front of her, ultimately deciding to push the tray away from her. “Yeah, it’s a pretty big one for the both of them,” Peter added.

“Yeah, could be,” you replied as your mind raced with possibilities. Deep down, you had a feeling that there was more to it than a football game. 

You watched Steve and Sam, curiosity tugging at your thoughts. There’s no way this was about the football game, the way they were talking hinted at a deeper issue. Lost in speculation, you barely noticed both Wanda and Peter trying to get your attention. “You good?” Wanda’s voice finally snapped your focus back to them, she gave you an empathic look. She could only imagine what you were thinking after what you confessed to her only a few short hours ago. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you replied with a weak smile. As you reassured your friends, your mind continued to race.

The unanswered questions played on your mind for the rest of the day, you debated on speaking to Steve about it on the drive home or after dinner. You decided against it, you feared the possibility of it being Bucky-related and worried about raising suspicion. 

~

The final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. As you gathered your belongings from your locker, a movement that didn’t match the patterns of the rest of the hallway caught your attention. It was Bucky, he gestured for you to follow him once he noticed he had you. Blending into the crowd, you made your way down the hallway to the room that Bucky entered. It was empty, he closed the door when you reached him, pulling a blind down to cover the small window in the door. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, as you turned to face him. 

Bucky hesitated as he closed the distance between you, “I wanted to ask you something,” his voice was low, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “I was hoping you’d like to go for another ride with me on Friday night?” 

Your heart skipped a beat, was that a date invite? Was he asking you on a date? As much as you wanted to say yes, even if it wasn’t as a date, you couldn’t. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice filled with regret. “Steve’s playing on Friday, my whole family will be there.” You dropped your head as the glint in his eyes disappeared as disappointment filled them. 

Bucky nodded. “I understand, Sunshine,” Using his finger, he lifted your chin so you were looking back at him. “You know where I’ll be if you change your mind.”

---

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[milliesfishes]

𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓹𝓲𝓽𝓸𝓾𝓼 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮)˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

[fem reader] contains: forced lack of eating, body image issues, verbal abuse, physical abuse, cheating pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: stuck in an arranged betrothal, you think you'll forever be trapped until you meet billy and your world is flipped upside down (part three) author’s note: thank you thank you for all the love on this series, I hope you enjoy the last part! <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist (chapter starting at My Love Will Never Die)

Secrets are a curse between two people. Once they are known they either bring them together or tear them apart. You and Billy were now closer than ever.

The cabin became your sanctuary, and you escaped to it as often as you could, when you weren't under the watchful eye of those who'd raised you, or your husband-to-be.

Billy's arms were your happy place, and he happily opened them to you whenever you needed. He kissed your worries away, talking enthusiastically of the future. Of how you'd run away together, how you'd get a little place just like this one somewhere far off. You lived in those daydreams when you weren't with him, seeing for the first time ever a future you wanted to be a part of.

The good thing about Billy knowing was that you didn't have to be so on edge all the time. He shouldered the burden with you, gave you some much-needed relief. In time, he coaxed more out of you, about life in Atlanta and the reason your parents had pushed this marriage on you.

"Ain't nobody should be blamin' ya for wantin' to pick the best ya could," he assured you, tracing your cheek as you lay bare by the fireplace sandwiched between blankets and cocooned against him. You nuzzled your cheek against his bare chest so you could feel his heartbeat. "Society rules 'n all...they hardly have a place out here."

"That's why I love it so much," you smiled, and he returned it in a lazy, blissful way.

"That's the only reason ya love it?" he teased, his fingers scratching your arm gently in a soothing motion.

Pretending to think about it, you snuggled impossibly closer. "Maybe there's a couple others."

He dropped his lips to the part in your hair, inhaling your scent softly. "Lucky, lucky man I am."

"You're holding a girl who's engaged to someone else," you mumbled, looking up at him. "Doesn't sound so lucky."

"Ah, you're worth all 'f it," he stopped his scratching and used the same hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. "Any man'd do the same for the sweetest girl in the West."

You let him have that, smiling softly. Billy didn't know he was one of a kind. Having exhausted the resources in most of Atlanta society, you would know. He was special, he brought you back to life. In secret, he reignited the flame you had thought diminished.

But even Billy couldn't erase the turbulence of your family and fiancé, as much as he wanted to.

One day as you were getting dressed, being laced into your corset for the day by one of the maids, your mother poked her head in, looking over you like one would a specimen. She dismissed the maid and started to pull at the strings herself, making your body jolt. Her tactics were more aggressive.

"You've gained nearly an inch," she commented, and you lowered your eyes to the floor.

"I can get it off," you promised, and a scoff was heard from behind you.

"Indeed you will," your mother said distractedly, and you felt the corset tighten around you. "In fact, I think it best if we put you on a restricted diet until the wedding."

You turned to look at her. "What-"

"You want to be able to fit into your wedding dress," she said firmly, and you looked back at the wall so she wouldn't see you clench your jaw. "Honestly, I'm not always going to be around to do everything for you. After you're married it will be your job to remain an acceptable weight for your husband."

It stung. Everything she was saying hit your chest like rain in a thunderstorm hit the roof. But you were an obedient daughter. And you didn't want to make her angry. So reluctantly, you nodded and said in a small voice, "Yes, mother."

"Very good." She tied the knot on your corset and reached for your dress, helping you step into it. You felt numb as she buttoned the back.

Going down for breakfast, you sat at the table and reached for a slice of bread. But then you remembered her words and slowly pulled your hand back, folding it over your other one in your lap. She was watching. Your mother nodded approvingly.

The frustration you felt was awful. Why should you have to do something so demeaning for such an awful man, who in all honesty would hardly notice? But now you were looking at yourself in the mirror through your mother's eyes, pinching the side of your waist and wishing you could cut it off.

Even when you were with Billy you were more hesitant to sit on his lap or lie on top of him, the internal voices telling you that you were too heavy. Sometimes he would bring a little something to the cabin to eat, and you'd nibble at it delicately, letting him have most of it.

Because it was Billy though, after the first couple of times he noticed. "Everythin' okay, sweet?"

You looked up from where you'd been staring at the floor, lost in thought. Remembering where you were, you smiled unassumingly. "Yes."

"You've hardly eaten anything, sunshine, ya seem a little down," he said concernedly, brushing his hand over your cheek. "Ya feelin' alright?"

"I'm okay," you reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Really."

Billy didn't look convinced, but he knew not to push it, so instead he reached out for you. "C'mere."

You hesitated, thoughts of your weight at the forefront of your mind. So instead of going to his lap like you normally would have, you sat by him, still close.

He frowned, tugging on your waist. "Baby, ya missed."

Pursing your lips, you shook your head, drawing your knees to your chest. "No, I'm okay here."

The resignation in your tone was clear, and Billy settled a hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down. "Whatsa matter, honey?"

You looked up at him, at how concerned he was for you. One look into his blues and it all came pouring out of you. The diet, your mother's comments, your eating habits...everything.

When you finished, Billy was quiet for a moment. Then he cooed, reaching for you. "Baby...you come sit on m' lap. You ain't too heavy 'n ya never will be."

He held you there, your bottom on his thigh and your legs across his knees, nestled between them. Pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your ear, he murmured, "Don't give any 'f it a thought. You're so perfect. Pretty as a peach, thought so from the first time I saw ya."

Oh, he always knew exactly what to say. Every minute he was with you made everything all better. Billy wrapped his arms around your waist, under your arms, one hand reaching up to rest on your heart. You leaned back into him and quelled every thought about your body, letting it be buried in the bundle of love he had you wrapped in.

"Can't do much for when you're not with me," he kissed your cheek, letting his lips linger there. "But when you are, I'll have ya eatin'." Billy lifted a slice of one of the apples he'd brought to your lips expectantly. Obediently, you opened your mouth and he fed it to you. "Atta girl."

Every day he uncovered some previously unseen facet of him that made you love him more. And could hardly do anything more than love him, love him with all your heart, love him like you'd never loved anything else. It wasn't give and take. It wasn't one sided. It was golden, pure and hope-filled, all encapsulated by this spot in his arms.

Your mother had insisted on a visit with Henry, and you hadn’t had the energy to protest.

Because she was apparently the expert on all things high society men, she told you to pay him a visit at his office. He would be so happy to see you, she’d said. Especially if you went with a smile.

So, biting the bullet, you allowed yourself to be trussed up like a prized calf and sent on your way, a tight smile plastered on your face as if by glue.

You looked at the tall building with dread. It nearly seemed to loom tantalizingly over you. Henry worked on the second floor, you’d been told (by him, numerous times). Gathering both your skirts and your courage, you made your way up the steps and opened the door.

A friendly woman directed you to the exact location of Henry’s office, and you took deep breaths all the way there. The outcome of the visit depended entirely on what kind of mood he was in. You prayed he’d had a good work day.

It was a unique gift he had, how he could make any door he was behind seem intimidating. You paused and stared at it, gritting your teeth. It’s only an hour, it’s only an hour.

Wishing on every eyebrow hair, star, and eyelash, you grasped the handle and pushed the door open. The sight behind it caused your eyes to go as round as the center of a daisy.

Henry was there, yes, but he was with a woman of unknown identity, who was sitting on his desk with half her dress unbuttoned and pushed down around her waist. Your fiancé was kissing her sloppily, his hands pushing her skirt up to her thighs, exposing the end of her stocking.

Involuntarily, you let out a gasp, your hand flying to your heart. Henry’s head whipped around, and you were almost pleased at his shock, at the slight look of guilt.

Before he could say anything, you turned right on your heel, shutting the door firmly behind you and walking briskly out. Maybe you should have felt bad. Threatened, angry, jealous, even. But instead you felt joyful.

Finally you had an out. You had a real, legitimate reason to leave him and call off the engagement. In high society abuse was (regrettably) tolerated, but infidelity was an entirely different thing.

Inappropriately giddy, you skipped out to your horse, and as you rode home the world seemed brighter. The sun was warm, the grass was green…it was so rare for you to feel this way when you weren’t with Billy.

Oh Billy! You were so excited to tell him, to hold his hands and say sincerely that it was over. You didn’t have to kiss behind closed doors anymore. A torrential stream of daydreams flooded your mind, ranging from running away to getting married, but this time to a man you loved.

You left your horse in the stables, bounding up the steps and immediately facing your mother in the drawing room.

She set aside her sewing and stood, looking puzzled. “What are you doing back so soon?”

Unable to help your elation, you gushed, “I caught Henry with another woman.”

Your mother didn’t seem put off by your tone. “You did?”

Gathering yourself up, you said, “I won’t marry him.”

Striding over to you, looking around for listening ears, your mother grabbed your arm and said in a harsh whisper, “What are you talking about? Of course you’re going to marry him.”

All your hopes and dreams were swept off the table, shattering into a million shiny pieces at your feet. Your heart sank like a rock to the bottom of the river. “What?”

Looking around suspiciously still, your mother pulled you further into the room and shut the door. When she turned back around to face you, her expression was nearly furious.

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but whatever it is…” she paused, looking you up and down. “It doesn’t matter. If he wants to continue the engagement, you will go through with it.”

The energy you’d accumulated from catching your fiancé wasn’t diminished like it normally would have been. There was a fire inside you that could not be quelled. “Over the last few months, he has treated me in some of the worst ways anyone could treat someone. I don’t love him, and I don’t want to marry him. You cannot force me down that aisle.”

Your mother took you by the arms and forced you to sit on the couch, stiffly sitting by you. She folded her hands in her lap primly, but the cold look on her face was hardly ladylike. “We’re nearly out of money.”

A cold wave of shock washed over you. “What do you mean?”

“Your father insisted on coddling you by keeping you in the dark but I cannot stand it any longer,” she said sharply. “Do you really think we left Atlanta with you for the fun of it? That we wouldn’t have sent you off on a train with Mr. Merritt so you were someone else’s problem if we could?”

It was a slap in the face if there ever was one. You could only stare at her.

Your mother continued with only a slightly softened tone. “Mr. Merritt possesses a sizable fortune. And with a marriage your father would gain advantages in the business he’s invested in. But only if you marry. If you end it, we will be ruined.”

Shame warred your inner instincts. You wanted to scream at the fact that you’d been only a pawn this entire time. And cry because of the obligation you felt to your family. Of course you didn’t want them to be left desolate. Your kind heart and seemingly permanently guilty mindset won out. Because it always did. Still, you tried to fight it, tears welling up precariously. “Please. I’ll be miserable if I have to spend the rest of my life with him.”

The emotion in your words did not sway her. “And what do you think will make you happy? That cowboy who likes to sneak around the property?”

You paled as she mentioned Billy, opening your mouth to try and diffuse the situation, but she merely shook her head, leaving you silent. Even the sight of her disappointment was enough to send you spiraling, a tactic she’d used since you were a child.

“What kind of life could that man, an outlaw-“ she said the word like it was dirty. “-possibly give you? Mr. Merritt offers stability. Comfort. If he’s stepping out, you can either live with it or try harder, since you clearly aren’t satisfying him.” Your mother set an uncomfortable hand on one of yours. “Be smart for once, and do the right thing. Or you will be responsible for our misery.”

The irony of that statement was not lost on you as she promptly stood and left, the door slamming behind her.

It’d been days and you’d hardly stopped crying.

Maybe your cheeks would never cease to be rosy, your eyes would never be dry again. Here in the cabin that was once your haven, you stood up straight with your arms folded and your eyes trained on the cold fireplace. The ash was akin to how you felt- once burning bright, now strewn about.

When the door opened behind you, you didn’t turn around. Nor did you when Billy’s arms slid around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. He must’ve taken his hat off, because it wasn’t nudging against your head.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he murmured, turning his head slightly to peck your cheek. When he caught sight of your reddened eyes and somber expression, he turned you around gently and pushed your face to his shoulder. “Baby…”

“I can’t see you anymore,” you breathed, feeling another wave of tears coming on.

Billy shook his head, his nose in your hair, hand softly stroking the back of your head. “What for?”

“I have to marry Henry-“ you started, and he pressed his lips to your head, cutting you off.

“You ain’t marryin’ that bastard,” he murmured, rubbing your back. “You don’t gotta be with me, but no way in hell are ya gonna be with him.”

“I want to be with you,” you pulled back, looking up at him. He had a bittersweet look in his eye, like he’d seen this coming. “But I have to marry him. My family…they…” His azure eyes reminded you of the seaside when you were little, deep, comforting pools you wanted to drown in.

Thumbing your cheek, Billy shook his head. “What’s your family done for you that you gotta keep givin’? That you gotta stay with someone who hurts you?”

Your lips parted to respond, but you found you didn’t know what to say. Although they were family, they had manipulated, scorned, and starved you; both of food and attention. All you could manage was, “I owe them everything. They took care of me.”

“That’s just what family’s s’posed to do,” Billy tucked some of your hair behind your ear, smoothing it back and continually running his fingers through it. “Ain’t somethin’ to repay.”

A single tear slipped from your eye. “They’ll be ruined if I don’t. I can’t leave them desolate.”

“‘S not your burden.” Billy pulled you back in so you were snug against his chest. “You didn’t get ‘em into this, and you don’t gotta get ‘em out.”

“Billy-“ A slight sob cut you off, and you slumped against him, his arms the comfort you had always known them to be.

He was the softest thing in the world at that moment because he loved you, really loved you like nobody else had. You could have sunk into him, buried yourself deep into his depths until the sun burnt out.

But the cold, nagging feeling inside you had other plans.

It was like tearing two magnets apart, the way you drew back from him. You took a heavy step back, taking one last look at him with teary eyes. And then, with a whispered goodbye, you left, disappearing into the cold dark world without any promise of coming back to the light.

Somehow more tragic than losing someone to death is losing someone who still exists in the world, because there will always be that possibility. The what-if. A chasm of regret.

In the next few weeks, it swallowed you, tore you into pieces and put you back together, even though you begged it not to, because then the hurt would only restart.

Henry had come to your door with false apologies and promises, talking in circles in a way that told you he was lying. You supposed you should have been happy he wasn't hitting you.

It felt as though you were standing still, letting things happen to you as time marched on. Your mother was disturbingly cheery, dragging you through the wedding plans, saying things you didn't want to hear and chiding you playfully when you showed little enthusiasm.

"A woman only gets one wedding, you know!" she said enthusiastically as you sat at the dinner table one night, nothing on your plate. She was holding a paper with the guest list, writing and crossing out names.

Your stomach growled softly.

Billy was in the shadows and corners of your life, as a ghost and sometimes not. You would see him across town sometimes as your mother took you shopping. He never said anything, never approached you, just watched silently.

One day as your mother was in the post office arguing for a better arrival time for invitations, he did come to you, removing his hat as he stood quietly leaning on the wall with you.

"Hey," he said softly, looking over you concernedly,

You didn't turn to face him. "Hey."

Always in tune with you, he must have known you didn't want to talk. Instead of asking how you were, a fact obvious to the human eye, he took one of your hands, lifting it and gently pressing something hard and round into it. When you looked down, you saw a shiny red apple, juicy and firm.

Looking up at Billy, your eyes widened slightly, your lips parting. "I-"

"Don't gotta say anythin', sunshine," he promised, taking your other hand and closing it over the apple. Lifting one hand, he traced your cheekbone, the thinning, pale lines of your face. Then his eyes wandered to the way your dress seemed to big for your frame, your bony arms. "Just take it, alright?"

You could hear your mother's shrill voice getting closer to the door. Nodding, you slipped the apple into the discreet pocket of your dress, and Billy squeezed your hand once before he left, disappearing around the corner.

Later in secret, you ate the apple gratefully, savoring every bite. He still cared about you. Even after you'd hurt him, left him. All the love you'd been trying to suppress came rushing back full-fledged. And now you were looking back at that night at the cabin, wishing you had done everything completely differently.

He probably would have run away with you, you realized one night before closing your eyes to fall asleep. The last thought you had was one of hope. Maybe you could fix it. Your family be damned.

The next morning a renewed spirit ignited in you. Maybe if you could find him, confess your loneliness without him, the bright and shiny love you still possessed...you didn't want to get your hopes up, but the possibilities set your heart aflame.

Henry was there when you got downstairs, and he turned around, smiling pleasantly when you walked into the drawing room. Perfect.

"I need to tell you something," you said determinedly, striding toward him.

"So do I." Henry caught you by the arms. "You need to pack your things. We're leaving."

Your mind went blank. What did he mean, leaving? "Leaving."

"That's right." His hair was a little messy, his smile borderline manic. "We're going to go somewhere else and get married when we arrive."

"Wait, slow down," you shook your head, sure you'd misheard him. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember the young lady you...ah...caught me with?" he said in a whisper, eyes darting to the side suspiciously. "Her husband knows. He's got it out for me. So, we need to leave as soon as possible."

"What about my parents?" you asked, looking back at the door worriedly. He turned your chin to face him again and you sucked in a breath at the violation.

"They won't be told. Your father will take over my position and they'll be fine," he pulled on your hand. "Go upstairs and start packing. We'll be travelling light."

You pulled your hands back, casting your eyes to the side as you thought. If Henry was leaving and your father and mother would be taken care of... this time, there was truly nothing holding you back. No guilt or loose ends or anything left behind.

And now that you had a chance at freedom, there was only one person you were running to.

Slowly realizing this, you lifted your head to meet his eyes, your face changing. "No." Your voice was light, and you said the word as a realization.

Henry stared at you. "What do you mean, no?"

"No." You said it firmly this time, straightening up as you looked at him. "I...am not going anywhere with you."

"You're my fiancé-"

"And you've been awful to me," you continued, a new, unfamiliar determination taking over. Lifting your chin, you couldn't seem to stop the words from pouring out. "You hit me, you cheated on me. And now you're asking me to run away with you like nothing ever happened." Shaking your head, you turned, moving to walk away. "We're finished."

White hot pain blinded you, manifesting in a sting on your face. Your knees buckled, and the floor was not a forgiving landing space. As your brain registered what had happened, you waited for the flood of lament, the remorse for having pushed him this far. But it never came.

Henry grabbed you by the arms and pulled you up, sending you stumbling back. He shook you, his expression murderous. "You should be grateful I put up with you after all the grief you've given me."

Looking you over, he exhaled once through his nose, and you were reminded of a bull about to charge. He could have been thinking about killing you in that moment, and you would have no idea.

And that thought, that he could kill you, was viable in that moment. For a second you were sure he would. That he would beat you bloody until your own family wouldn't be able to recognize your mangled corpse.

Instead, he pulled you by the arm outside, barking an order to get on his horse. Your body moved without thinking, and before you knew it you were riding, hanging onto him for dear life.

Would he kill you somewhere remote? Where they wouldn't find your body?

Henry took you all the way to town, getting off the horse in front of the local bank. He gave you a firm glare, and you knew it was a silent order to stay there. You got off the horse, petting its mane and trying to calm yourself. He wasn't going to let you go back home. By all counts, he was kidnapping you, forcing you to go heaven knows where. Hot tears blinded your vision, and you couldn't help but let one slip. Maybe you were entitled to it.

There was a hand on your shoulder, and you jumped, eyes wide as you turned around.

Billy held up his hands in a show of peace, looking surprised. "Woah, sunshine, it's just me." He squinted at you, and you knew he'd noticed your tear. "Hey...'r ya-"

He was cut off by you barreling into him, body smashing against his, arms around his middle, face burrowed in his chest. Your chest heaved with panicked breaths, and you breathed in his scent, wishing you could meld yourself into him.

"Hey...hey, baby, whatsa matter?" Billy asked worriedly, smoothing your hair and trying to calm you down. "Easy, sweetheart. Easy. Breathe f' me, yeah? You're safe with me, I've gotcha. I've gotcha."

Your breaths slowed down as you held onto him. He pulled you into a spot under the shade of a building, getting you out of the sun. "I've got you, sweet." Billy looked at you sadly when you lifted your head, his hand finding what must have been a patch of redness on your cheek. His fingers were cool against the injury, and you leaned into it. "Oh my baby. Who'd ever hurt my sweet baby?"

There were footsteps to the side, and you lifted your head frantically, seeing Henry walk out of the bank and look around for you. Billy followed your gaze and his face hardened.

Not wasting a second, he took his hat off his head and shoved it onto yours, pulling you into a nearby alley. He leaned sideways against the wall, so he was blocking any passerby's view of you. Once you were there, right up against him, he whispered, "What's goin' on? Ya look scared half to death."

Body nearly shaking, you looked up into his eyes. Seaside. "Henry's leaving town. There's someone threatening him. And he's...he's making me come with him."

He looked shocked, shaking his head. "No... no no no, you're not leavin'. He's not takin' ya anywhere."

"Once I knew he was leaving I wanted to come to you," you said brokenly, tears forming rivers on your skin. "My parents are taken care of. There wouldn't be anything...it was selfish of me to think you'd still want me after I-"

Billy pulled you in, knocking his hat up on your head so he could kiss your forehead. "Don't think I'd ever stop wantin' ya. You've ruined me for anyone else, my love. That ain't the point." He looked at you, nodding and urging you to continue.

"He didn't like when I said I wasn't coming," you said softly, closing your eyes and leaning your face fully into his hand. "We rode out here, and he just went inside for a minute. He's probably looking for me, I should-"

"If ya think I'm lettin' ya go anywhere with him..." Billy's fingers stroked the afflicted area of your cheek. "...you've got another thing comin'."

Looking up at him, seeing how sincere he was, how intent he would be on protecting you...it made your eyes well up for another reason entirely. You buried your face into his chest again, holding on tight to him. He held you close, and you knew he wouldn't let go until you started to.

Someone cleared their throat, and you jolted, looking up. To your horror, Henry was standing there, glaring at the pair of you.

Billy turned, and his eyes narrowed when he saw who it was. He pushed you gently behind him, keeping one of his hands clasped in yours. "Can I help ya?"

"You can hand my fiancée back." Henry's words were threatening, but they didn't seem as scary with Billy in front of you.

He stood tall and firm. "I don't think so."

Henry laughed in a chilling way. "I see. You think you've got her, Kid? We're engaged. Bet she didn't tell you that."

"I'm fully aware," Billy said unwaveringly. "Believe me, I know everything."

That seemed to take the wind out of Henry's sails just slightly, and he moved forward as if to physically hurt Billy. But your man remained solid, standing and staring him down.

For all of Henry's talk, you knew there wasn't any was he wasn't at least a little afraid of Billy. The fastest draw in the West, a famed outlaw. your ex-fiancé didn't stand a chance against him.

Scoffing, Henry took a tiny step back. "You'd really go this far for her? She's nothing but a-"

In an instant, Billy had him against the wall, holding him by his shirt, his face right up close. "You don't wanna finish that." His voice was low and dangerously calm.

You almost felt bad for relishing Henry's visible fear. He was so used to being at the top of the food chain, and Billy had knocked him down to the bottom. Henry's eyes were wide, and he looked at you, as if you'd help him. "You won't let him hurt me...you..."

The dead look in your eyes stopped him from saying the rest.

Billy turned to look at you, and his eyes softened. He gave you a look, and you knew right then that he would do anything you wanted. This was the face of a man who would kill for you. The power that gave you was scary.

Turning your eyes to Henry, you saw how pathetic he was, how vulnerable. Now he felt how he'd made you feel every day since that first morning in the drawing room in Atlanta.

And that was enough for you.

You focused back on Billy, shaking your head just slightly. In his eyes it was clear he wanted to do more, wanted to make him pay for everything he'd done to you, everything he'd done to everyone. But he didn't, and it was a testament to how much he loved you.

Shoving Henry to the ground and letting go of him, Billy spat, "You're not even fit to look at 'er." Leaving him crumpled at his boots, Billy went to you, his hands finding your shoulders as he looked you over. "You okay? All good?" He waited until you nodded before pulling you into his arms.

For a moment, you were more than content. Billy had you safe, and he was going to keep you safe. But when you looked up, you saw Henry getting to his feet shakily, reaching his hand inside his jacket and pulling out something silver, pointing toward the two of you.

Your eyes widened. "Billy-!"

He was a step ahead, whipping around, pistol in hand. A shot echoed in the alleyway, and for a second, you weren't sure whose it was.

But then Billy was turning back to you, gun already tucked back against his hip. He looked over every inch of you, tucking your hair behind your ears and gently pressing one of his big hands to your head, settling the hat more firmly against your head. Now both hands were settled behind your head, holding you with his palms over your hair.

His body was blocking Henry's, and you knew he was trying to shield you. So, you let him. You looked up into his eyes, feeling the last tendrils of the engagement crumble from around you. He nudged his nose against yours. "M' brave girl..." he whispered. "Nobody's gonna hurt ya no more."

When he pulled you into his chest again, your belief in the statement multiplied tenfold.

You and Billy had left town by the time the sun rose on the next day. It felt metaphorical, the way you snuck back into your home to gather a few things, tiptoeing past your parents' rooms and taking a horse from the stables, riding side by side with your man over the hills and out of sight.

You never saw Henry's arrest. Never saw the judge proclaim him "unworthy of even a wink of decency".

You never saw your father regain his status as a businessman. He and your mother made the journey back to Atlanta, where he operated remotely, building his success back up.

You never saw anybody from your old life again,

Turning over in bed, you lazily looked up at Billy, snuggling up against his chest as sunlight spilled through the curtains, creating a warm patch on the sheets. You treasured every morning you got with him, remembering that first one where you'd left in such a hurry. You never had to do that again.

Billy nosed against your cheek, peppering gentle kisses over it. Oh, the way he looked at you. Eyes sleepy, smile bright even in the early hours, his arms tightened around you. He muttered against his skin, "I don't think I even know how much I love you."

Rubbing his chest contently, you sighed softly. Your smile seemed permanent these days. "My love."

"My sunshine." He pulled you so you were resting directly on top of him, his eyes warm as you folded your arms on his chest, your chin resting there.

Your liberty was his gift to you, and you chose to spend it on him. Billy took your heart and showed you how it beat.

"Every time," you breathed, and his lips brushed yours, his hand tangling in your hair. "I would choose you every time."

Previous Part

[bonebrokebuddy]

I’ve been seeing a few folks complain about people writing hcs of DC characters with ooc song preferences, which it’s not that serious. But it gives me an excuse to show off my DC character playlists.

I initially created them as I saw a lot of playlists for Bruce & Jason with just a lot of dad rock.

Which, fair. Not everyone’s into metal.

But since I know it’s not an easy genre to get into, if you want inspiration, feel free to check out these playlists!

My one main rule for making playlists is that a majority, if not all, of the songs need to be in a genre I think the character would listen to based on their canon music taste. This is regardless whether or not it’s a genre I like. I try my best to find fun songs regardless of my personal preference.

The Playlists:

Batman: various genres of metal. I tried to go for more Doom Metal(slow & repetitive vs thrash’s blast beats and fast guitar) but there’s more than one genre of metal that’s characterized by slower instrumentals & I can’t keep up with all the names so it varies. Dad metal. Made sure that there was a sprinkle of Black Metal too (mainly bc I think it’s funny. If you’ve never listened to black metal, it sounds like you chucked the vocalist in a grinder at high speeds then proceeded to mix your instruments & your vocals the worst you could possibly make it. It’s nearly incomprehensible and it’s Perfect for Bruce.)

Bruce Wayne: a touch of old school doom metal, a sprinkle of black metal as you can write a Batman story without Bruce Wayne but not a Bruce Wayne story without Batman. A more chill version of the Batman playlist that I think Bruce would jam out to as not everyone’s into metal and I wanted to give people another option that didn’t have as heavy stuff in it.

Tim Drake: Mostly time accurate with 90s-2010’s punk rock & alt rock influences all the way through with a touch of metal to show his connection to Bruce & a few other off genre songs that represent his YJ98 pals. I tried my best to include as many bands as I could find that he canonically enjoyed as well.

Jason Todd: Jason was introduced in the 80s & is a canonical metalhead, so I think he’d listen to a combination of 80s dad metal, death metal (come on, it’s just too perfect of a genre name to pass up), thrash, & a little black metal (the genre I assigned to Batman).

Clark Kent: Dad metal. He canonically listens to Metallica post-crisis so I just gave him my dad’s taste in music lmao. Made sure to add a few satire ones because Clark is an little shit and would very much enjoy satire songs. Unfortunately, I genuinely could not get my Spotify recs to give me decent country music. I tried. It only gave me modern mainstream artists and after a month of trying to find good pre 2000’s country, I just gave up. So it’s mainly metal:(

If any of y’all want to send me 80s-2000’s country recs, that would be very kind of y’all. (the type of country music ma & pa kent would listen to that Clark would have grown up with)

Kon-El: is full of songs that are, well, time accurate to his original run. Ranging from 1969-2002 [the year his solo run was canceled], this playlist not only has songs he could have theoretically picked up in a record shop or blasted on a boom box during the day but is also full of bands he canonically listens to! This playlist is chalk full of Kon’s canonical alt rock & metal music taste as well as rock and proto-metal hits of the time!

Bart Allen: to be clear, Bart wouldn’t listen to any of these as music is just too slow for him. These are songs that relate to Bart or songs that represent his connections to his friends with no specific genre as I didn’t just want to have playlists full of nothing but metal. (Although I think he’d really like metal concerts as he’d probably enjoy the feeling of the heavy base resonate in his chest.)

[redtsundere-writes]

Out Of My League | Kayn Shieda / Rhaast

Heartsteel!Kayn Shieda / Rhaast x f!reader

Part 2: Shotcalling.

Part 1. Part 3. Part 4.

Sypnosis: A chronically online girl trying to get out of the friendzone. Contents: Modern AU, High school AU. Friends to lovers. Fluff and some angst. No warnings. Word count: 6982 words. Author's Note: So... I wasn't going to post a second part but the guys in AO3 asked for it so here it is as well lol.

Two months ago, you discovered that your weird online friend, Rhaast, was the famous Kayn Shieda, one of the most popular boys in school. Luckily, this dynamic change just strengthened your friendship. Now, both talked every time you ran into each other in the hallway and played League at night while criticizing people from school on call. You were lucky to have his attention, even if it meant that your jealous classmates glared at you every time you talked too much to him. You loved this new phase, but you knew it would end soon. 

The school year was a month away and that meant two things. The first one was that the famous annual talent show was approaching. It was a farewell event your school organized for the students. It was an important event attended by students and the general public. At first, it was meant to be a one-time event, but thanks to the great reception it became a tradition. Your math teacher liked to encourage students to participate, so he always gave extra credits to those who did. Credits that you urgently needed if you didn't want to take summer classes. 

So here you were, meticulously searching for a simple song that you could play and sing at the same time on Spotify. You weren't the best singer but at least it would be better than just boringly playing guitar. You were lying on a bench in the music room. That oasis where you met Kayn. That embarrassing memory had transformed into a nostalgic one. You were still an introvert and shy, but not with Kayn. 

"Found you," you heard Kayn as he entered the room with his characteristic velvety voice. 

Your heart skipped a beat mercilessly on your chest like the first day. Your hands started to sweat, so you quickly wiped them on your pants. Your lungs were feeling out of breath with every step he took towards you, but you quickly regained your composure. 

"What are you doing here?" You asked while putting your phone aside, pretending that his presence was no big deal. Kayn threw a soda can at you which you skillfully caught. 

"I didn't see you in the cafeteria, so I thought you'd be here," he said. Kayn quickly noticed your guitar. 

He was an observant man, he almost knew your routine by just watching your behavior. The guitar caught his attention because you almost never brought it to school, unless you participated in class and you didn't have music class that day. 

"Are you going to perform at the talent show?" You nodded and sat properly on the bench to drink the soda comfortably. 

"I have to do it if I want to pass math. I'll just play an easy song," you explained before taking a sip. 

"Heartsteel will also perform. That means we are rivals now," Kayn joked as he sat down next to you. You rolled your eyes. 

"It's not fair, you guys have practically have the contest on the bag," you said while frowning. He laughed at how cute you looked when you did that. 

"Do you already have a song in mind?" Kayn asked curiously. He had never heard you sing, so this new side caught his attention. 

"Yes, it goes something like this…" You replied before picking up your guitar again. Your fingers delicately positioned on the strings and you began to play a couple of chords to create a simple melody. 

"Two sides to a story, but never tell my side. Never been the kinda guy to stay inside the guidelines..." You rapped like Kayn did in Paranoia. He laughed when he heard you. Not to mock you, he just wasn't expecting you to know the lyrics. He couldn't stop smiling as you recited his part perfectly.  

"No one can replace me, baby," he commented sarcastically while applauding at your brief presentation. 

"I know, but I am a close second," you said pretending that your ego was as high as his. 

He watched you closely as you mocked his narcissistic personality. He liked that he could be himself when you were around, but he still couldn't let himself go like he wished. 

"What will you do without me?" He suddenly asked in a serious tone, completely changing the fun atmosphere you had created. 

"We've been online friends for 2 years, I'll be fine," you responded with the same tone as you noticed his concern. Kayn shook his head at the response. 

"You know it won't be like before. When I graduate, I will dedicate myself fully to my musical career and I won't have as much time to play or talk with you as we used to," he explained with a melancholic tone. 

The school year was a month away and that meant two things. The second thing was that Kayn, a senior student, would be graduating soon. You would no longer see him singing in the hallways, eating with his friends or playing basketball. Also, he had recently debuted with his band, Heartsteel, and they had recently released their first single. That would mean he would be busier with rehearsals, fan meetings and concerts. Just thinking about it saddens you, but you knew that he was fulfilling his dream and you had to support him. You still had a month left so you had to make the most of it. 

"You worry about nothing," you told him before nudging his arm so he stopped being so tense. 

"You know that I will always be available for you," you smiled at him so he would stop thinking about the future so could focus on the present. 

It was true that you always wanted to be by his side, but he was a star and you had to give him space to shine. If Kayn was happy, you would be. Even if it meant that your delicate heart would be sad in the mornings when you couldn't see him in the sky. 

The school day ended and you were heading back to the music room to retrieve your guitar. You grabbed the sheet music you had written during the break once Kayn went back to his friends, put the notebook in your bag and hung the guitar on your back. You left the room and looked out the window at a scene you hadn't seen in a while. 

Kayn was in front of a beautiful girl. You recognized her easily given her good reputation as the captain of the school’s volleyball team. With just a glance, it was obvious how good they looked together. Did you look like that next to him? Most likely you looked like one of his eager fans. 

She handed him an envelope decorated with hearts and kisses. She was confessing her love to him and he was receiving it. One after another, Rhaast used to tell you that he dated a new girl every week because “there's Rhaast for everyone,” or that's what he always used to say on call. You had already gotten used to seeing that scene in the distance many times when it came to the out of league Kayn, but this time it was different. Because you were close to him, you now felt like you had a chance to confess your feelings with ease and that's why you were jealous of the captain. Now you understood your jealous classmates, you had become one of them. 

If your time with Kayn was limited, you had to make the most of it. You had to confess no matter the outcome. Sure, you were afraid that he would cruelly reject your feelings but you didn't care. You wanted to tell Kayn everything your heart had been locking up since you first saw him. 

If you were going to confess, you were going to do it in Kayn's style. You were going to give him the best confession he had ever seen in his life, so you could stand out among your pretty rivals. You were going to write him a song and perform it in front of the whole school at the talent show. Did you know how to write a song? No. Were you ready to sing your feelings in front of a large audience? Also no, but that would be a problem for the future you. You had to do it to make the most out of the opportunity. 

You watched tutorials on YouTube on how to compose music, you researched how to write romantic lyrics, and you asked your friends on Discord what they thought of how the song was turning out. Some showed their support while others made fun of you, but that didn't matter to you in the slightest. Your confidence was the highest it has ever been and no one could take away your motivation. 

You decided to write a song about how Kayn made you feel every time you saw him, how you couldn't take your eyes off him even if you wanted to, and how you wanted him to look at you like you were the prettiest girl in the room. You wrote him a song to show him how bad you wanted him compared to the other girls. 

One night, Kayn sent you a message while you were focused on writing. You ignored your computer because you were repeating a verse that didn't convince you how it sounded with the beat. 

Kayn was in his dark messy room. The glow of his computer dimly illuminated his pale body. He frowned when he noticed that you didn't answer him as quickly as you usually did. He sent another message to get your attention, but this one was also ignored. “She better be showering or else,” he thought, annoyed. Minutes passed by and you showed no signs of life. Kayn had no choice but to send another message... which you didn't answer. This was really rare in you. “Is she mad at me?” he thought before starting to analyze everything he had said or done to find out the reason for your strange attitude towards him. 

“Damn, what did I do?” he asked himself, starting to worry. He got up from his gaming chair to walk anxious from side to side through the gloomy room. “Maybe she's talking to someone else,” he thought, looking at your Discord chat. Out of nowhere, a shirtless K'Sante walked into the room. 

"Hey, Kayn, can I borrow some of your shampoo? I ran out of mine," he asked with a towel hanging over his broad shoulder. 

"Do you think she hates me?" Kayn asked without taking his eyes off the unread messages. “What this have to do with shampoo?” K'Sante thought, confused. 

"Why would she hate you?" he asked, unsure if he wanted to participate in the conversation. 

Kayn trusted K'Sante when it came to talking about girls because he was the one who gave the best advice out of all the members of Heartsteel. 

"I don't know! I already sent her three texts and she doesn't answer me!" Kayn cried, desperate for attention. K'Sante sighed as he shook his head. 

"You're overreacting," he said, getting fed up with his friend's nonsense before closing the door. Kayn huffed and settled back down in front of his computer. 

Eventually you were able to rewrite the verse that bothered you so much and thus you finished writing the lyrics of the song. You checked your phone and were surprised to see Rhaast's messages. 

@Rhaast: League or what? (10:30 pm)

@Rhaast: Heeeyyyyy (10:38 pm)

@Rhaast: YOU CAN'T BE BUSY, I'M YOUR ONLY FRIEND!! 😞 (10:45 PM)

You didn't hesitate to call him as soon as you read those messages. Rhaast answered you almost immediately. 

"What did I do to deserve your coldness?" he asked, annoyed at you. “What's up with him?” you asked yourself. 

"Nothing, I was just busy," You said as you searched in your room for an excuse to give him other than “I was writing a love song for you.” 

"I was doing homework, Mr. Smith left us so many problems to solve," you said as seriously as possible to lie the best you could. 

"You better, you said you would always be available for me," Kayn refuted, less angry this time. 

"I'm sorry I have a life outside of you," you responded sarcastically. 

"I will always be part of your life!" he barked. Kayn was grateful that you couldn't see his cheeks slightly blushing for saying that so boldly. You smiled and shook your head. 

"Yeah, yeah... Are we going to play or are you going to keep yapping?" You mocked him before opening the game. Kayn sighed in relief after realizing you weren't upset with him. 

The talent show was two weeks away. You were practicing the song you had written in the music room. It was 5 pm. There were almost no students in school, so you felt comfortable practicing without interruptions. Your fingers slid along the strings to play the melody that you had worked so hard to compose. You sang what your heart wanted to say to Kayn but was too of a coward to do so. You were in your element.

"It doesn't sound bad,'' a voice said behind you out of nowhere. You screamed in shock and turned around quickly to see Kayn's friend, Yone, standing in the doorway. You were relieved that at least he wasn't your crush. 

You didn't know much about Yone. He was one of the popular kids in school thanks to his height, handsome appearance, and his piano skills. He was also a very important member of Heartsteel because he was the main producer and songwriter. You only knew that because Kayn talks about him from time to time to complain about how uptight and serious he could be.

"I'm s-sorry, I was-sn't expecting anyone here," you stubbornly said when you saw the handsome boy with white hair and red highlights, a perfectly sculpted face and a great presence enter the room. He approached you while analyzing you from head to toe. 

"Did you compose that?" He asked skeptically before taking your sheet music notebook. 

"Ah y-yes, it's the firs-st one I w-write," you responded, avoiding his intense gaze as he flipped through your sheet music and notes. 

Yone knew perfectly well who you were. You were Kayn's closest friend, which is already a pretty impressive title considering Kayn has no friends. He might have many acquaintances, but he could count his true friends with one hand. He knew you were nice, funny, good at playing League and liked to play guitar. Yone didn't really care, but Kayn couldn't stop talking about you. He was surprised at your apparent interest in writing music since his friend had never mentioned it. 

"Is it for Kayn?" He asked directly about the song. Your eyes widened at how quickly he deciphered the lyrics.

"What?! Of course not!" You blurted out blushing. Yone gave you a dubious look as he handed your notebook back. 

"By the color of your face, I can determine that you are lying" Your head fell in defeat. 

"Please don't tell Kayn. It's a surprise," You begged. Yone nodded in camaraderie. As a songwriter, he understood that songs are sacred and confidential until one wishes to share them. 

"Your song has potential, is it the one you will perform in the talent show?" he inquired. You just nodded. His serious expression did not allow you to decipher his true intentions. 

"Do you think Kayn will like it?" You asked him with a light blush running down your cheeks in awkwardness. Yone thought about his answer. 

"I've never seen Kayn listening to a romantic ballad, that sounds more like Ezreal's style," Yone answered as he approached one of the storage lockers in the room. The reason he was there was to get back some amplifiers he had lent to a classmate.  

"But I can help you produce something he will like," he offered before stuffing the amps into his backpack. 

"Will you really help me?" You asked excitedly. 

"I like supporting new artists and I think I can polish the rough diamond you have in your hands," he explained, pointing to the music sheet. You smiled and thanked his kind offer. 

And like that, the days went by. Yone would invite you to his production room from time to time to work on the song. Together began to change some verses so that the lyrics flowed better. Yone changed your acoustic guitar for an electric one. You recorded your voice while he worked on uniting all the sounds to create a song so you could proclaim your love. 

Both were listening to the final version of the song. It was direct and fierce. The sound of the guitar next to the drums was made to catch anyone's attention, but it would definitely catch Kayn's. When it finished, you applauded the wonderful job Yone had done. 

"It's such a bop!" You shouted excitedly, unable to believe that you were the one singing. 

"Kayn won't know what hit him when I perform this bad boy!" You said enthusiastically. Yone smiled softly seeing you with so much energy, something that was unusual in you. 

"Can I ask you something?" Yone said. You looked at him curiously.

"Why don't you just tell him this in private? Why composing  and singing a song in front of everyone? Doesn't sound like something you'd do," Yone asked.

"Because I want him to look at me the way I look at him when he's on stage. I want him to see that I understand him and that I'm cool as well so that he wants to be with me," you explained with a smile plastered on your face thinking about his reaction. Yone nodded before saving the song file to his computer. You got up from your seat to grab your things. 

"You have something else to do?" You asked him. Yone said no. 

"I'll treat you to a coffee, it's the least I can do after tolerating me these couple weeks," You invited. Yone giggled. 

"Believe me, Kayn and the guys are lucky they're talented." He said tiredly. You just limited yourself to laugh. 

Both arrived at a coffee shop near Yone's apartment and ordered delicious drinks. You sat on a comfortable couch to enjoy your coffees while bossa nova covers played in the background. You liked Yone, he could be serious and a little bitter, but he was very kind. It was like you were hanging out with a cat. 

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Yone asked while shaking his cold brew so that the ice would cool the coffee he was about to drink. 

Tomorrow was the talent show. Your nervous body was shaking but your mind was excited to finally show Kayn what you've been working on for him. 

"Yes, I'll practice all night and put on a nice outfit," you answered confidently. Yone sipped his drink as he watched you excitedly talking about your outfit choices. “I hope Kayn doesn't ruin it” he thought as he focused on seeing you smile. 

The bell that indicated the entry of new customers into the cafe rang. To both of your surprise, it was the other members of Heartsteel, Kayn among them. Your body froze and you looked at Yone worried but he was as calm as always. You tried telepathically telling him not to say anything about the song, but he already knew that. Sett became aware of your presence as soon as he entered. 

"Hey, Yone. I thought you said you'd be busy," Sett said as he approached you and the other members followed him. 

Kayn didn't know what to say as soon as he saw you sitting so closely to Yone. "What's going on here?" he wondered as his gaze bounced between you and his friend. You looked nervous, like you had been caught red-handed. 

"I was busy," Yone answered, pointing in your direction. 

"Doing what exactly?" Kayn questioned, placing himself in front of both of you. You were going to answer but Yone beat you to it. 

"I'm helping her with her performance for the talent show," Yone explained calmly. 

"That's true?" Kayn asked you directly with a grim expression. 

"Yes, he has helped me a lot," you responded nervously, which Kayn obviously noticed. 

He knew you were lying. You were a terrible liar. Kayn needed to know what was really going on. 

"Really? Because it seems like you lovey doveys are on a date," Ezreal stirred the pot without knowing. Aphelios whack him for saying such thing. 

Date. That was the word that broke Kayn. “Are they really on a date?” He thought as if he couldn't understand the situation when it was so obvious. Yone and you being alone, him suddenly being busy the last two weeks without telling anyone what he was doing, and that time where you took a while to answer his messages. It was as if Kayn had finally put the whole puzzle together but he was forcing pieces into the incorrect places. “They're dating” he convinced himself that what was in front of him was reality. 

"I have to go," Kayn said suddenly before quickly leaving the premises. No lame excuses, he just left. 

You noticed that something wasn't right when Kayn slammed the door of the establishment, so you got up and left after him without apologizing to anyone. You went out into the street and looked for Kayn to see which way he had taken. To your surprise, he was nowhere to be seen. “He's fast,” you thought before heading to the right… when Kayn had gone left. 

After not being able to find him, you sent him a Discord message to make sure everything was okay but he didn't reply. You decided to leave him alone and see him at the talent show. “Maybe he's just jealous that I became friends with someone else” you thought, trying to find the logic in Kayn's illogical behavior. 

The day of the long-awaited talent show had finally arrived. The school auditorium was filled with students, family members and journalists waiting to see an incredible show. Your nervousness and anxiety increased as soon as you entered backstage. Beautiful girls in pretty leotards, guys going over their lines and clowns bombarded your field of vision and you didn't know who to see. You held tightly the strap of the electric guitar case that Yone had lent you for the performance. You took a deep breath and entered the place. 

You ran into the Heartsteel members among all the contestants. Everyone was there except Kayn. “That's weird” you thought. Ezreal and K'Sante complimented your black dress when they saw you, you thanked them while stuttering because you hardly knew them. Yone asked you how you felt and you told him that you would do your best. 

"We'll go bowling after the contest, do you wanna come?" Ezreal asked excitedly. You looked around wondering if Kayn was coming. 

"Kayn is going," Yone commented to reassure you. In that case, you accepted. 

Just then, you heard Kayn's voice behind you... along with the laughter of a girl. He entered backstage holding the volleyball captain by the waist. They looked good together. Too good. Your breathing hitched and your heart broke when you saw them so close together. 

"See you later, beautiful." Kayn said goodbye to her as he released her so she could go with the girls in her group. 

Their gazes met. Kayn's heart sped up when he saw you in that pretty dress that allowed him to see your nice legs while yours felt like it was fading little by little. He approached you to look at you closely, trying not to say anything flirty.  

"First time I see you in a dress, good for you," Kayn commented, pretending he didn't care about your glow up. "That's all?" you asked yourself, remembering how indecisive you were picking out an outfit the night before. So much effort and all for nothing. At that unenthusiastic reaction, you only thanked in a whisper. 

"Hey, Kayn. You’re going bowling with us, right?" Sett asked. Kayn held his forehead dramatically. 

"Oh man! I forgot about it! I just invited a super hot chick on a date," he flexed. You couldn't keep listening to him. You needed to get out of there. 

"I'll go deliver my sound," you said before quickly leaving. You could feel everyone's eyes on you as you walked away, causing the anxiety to take over you. 

The Heartsteel members glared at Kayn. Everyone was confused by his asshole attitude. It wasn't new of him, but they had never seen him act like that with you. Yone was the one who was the most pissed off. 

"What are you doing?" Yone asked as he crossed his arms. 

“Nothing, I just said that I won't be able to go bowling tonight,” Kayn answered obviously as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

"Don't act oblivious." Yone scoffed, approaching him suddenly. K’Sante stepped between them to prevent the situation getting physical. 

"Guys, we just signed a contract, we can't fight now." K'Sante said trying to lighten the situation. 

"I didn’t do anything. I don't know why you care so much," Kayn said, ignoring his friend's comment.

"It's obvious you tried to hurt her," Yone said, pointing out his clear intentions. 

"Good for you. This way you'll have another excuse to go out with her," Kayn barked. Aphelios rolled his eyes when he discovered the reason for his attitude. 

"I knew it was about that," Yone said, walking away from K'Sante to make it clear that he had no intention of fighting. 

"If I had known you would act like an idiot, I wouldn't have helped her," he said seriously. Kayn was surprised to hear that. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, calmer, but still tense. 

"You'll have to listen to it yourself." Yone said before heading to one of the sound booths with Aphelios. Kayn just watched them in disbelief, still processing the information he had just heard. 

"Kayn, you must set your pride aside or it will eat you alive," K'Sante advised him before patting him on the shoulder a couple of times. Kayn felt lost. He didn't even know what he was doing or why he was doing it. 

Your mind was a mess. You hadn't stepped foot into the ring and you had already been knocked out. How had you gotten to this point? A few months ago, Kayn was just another cute boy and it was enough for you to just see him from time to time at school. Now you were here, holding back the urge to cry to avoid ruining the makeup you had done for him and that he didn't even appreciate. You were waiting for your turn to perform while you were tempted by the idea of ​​going home. “I'll just play and leave” you thought as you prepared the guitar. 

"You look nervous," someone next to you commented. It was Kayn. You dodged his gaze so he wouldn't see you sad. 

"I'm fine," you lied. He realized. “Now she is really upset?” he thought worried. You weren't just upset, you were disappointed in yourself. How could you be so stupid to think you had a chance just because you were talking to him now? 

"I like to think that I am in a place that I really like when I perform. Just think that you are practicing there and you will be fine," He advised you as he patted your head. 

Given the intimate move, you decided to take a peek at him. Kayn was smiling at you. This time it wasn't a mocking or flirtatious smile, it was a genuine and calm one. He was proud of you. Now you remembered why you had worked so hard on the performance. You wanted to see that look he was giving you in that precise moment. “Please never stop looking at me like that” you thought. 

The host brought you back to reality. Your turn had finally arrived. You took a deep breath and walked onto the stage. The applause of the audience received you warmly as you positioned yourself in the center with your guitar. You glanced at Kayn, who looked at you expectantly. “A place that I really like…” you quoted, thinking about the music room. You imagined yourself sitting on the bench with Kayn in front of you, waiting for you to play the first note. 

♫ This is the last chance. The only one where my soul overflows. ♫

Your fingers trembled as soon as you started, but you tried to maintain your composure. The drums sounded behind you so that your guitar was the center of attention and the piano accompanied your voice. The beating of your heart agitated you but the memories with Kayn calmed you. 

♫ Want to look you in the eyes. You are the lust that never managed to satisfy. ♫

Kayn watched you from the side, not believing what his ears were listening to. His eyes went up and down observing your anatomy. He wanted to tattoo your image in his mind so that he would never forget it. Kayn was speechless, but he didn't want to say anything because he just wanted to listen to you. 

 ♫ My engine revs when you're around. You set me on fire and I consume myself again. ♫

"She worked really hard on it," Yone mentioned approaching Kayn as music exploded from the speakers. Kayn looked at him stunned. 

"You knew," He said, finally completing the entire puzzle with the pieces in the correct places. 

"She composed it herself. I just helped with the instrumentalization," Yone explained without taking his eyes off you like a proud teacher. 

"We never went on a date. She's crazy for you," he continued. Kayn just smiled at that.  

♫ Give me a kiss, I’m only asking for one, my love. ♫

You sang from your heart. You no longer cared if Kayn stopped talking to you and left with the captain. You finally felt free. More than singing, you proclaimed each verse you had written with a passion that you didn't know you had inside. You loved Kayn, you loved him very much and you wouldn't stop loving him until he gave you a good reason to do so. You wanted to be always with him even if you were just friends.

♫ Stop my suffering. Stay with me. ♫

You played the last note and the applause rained down on you, but there was only one that truly mattered. You looked at Kayn applauding you, not caring if his hands were hurt from the impact. A sigh of relief escaped from your lips when you saw that he liked it.

You returned backstage to more applause coming from your classmates and Heartsteel. You smiled shyly as you placed the guitar on your back. 

"Wow, you really know how to rock!" Sett exclaimed, fascinated. 

"Thank you, I wouldn't have done it without Yone," you acknowledged him before looking at Kayn, making it clear to him that there was nothing between you. 

"You looked amazing, I knew you would do great," Kayn said before ruffling your hair in a friendly manner. You couldn't help but smile at the attention he was giving you. 

"Finally, what everyone has been waiting for! Let's welcome Heartsteel to the stage!" The host announced. 

"It's our turn!" Sett said excitedly as the members walked out onto the fierce stage. Kayn stayed back for a second.

"I want you to look at me," Kayn requested seriously before following them. You could only nod obediently. 

♫ Two sides to a story, but they never tell my side. Never been the kinda guy to stay inside the guidelines. ♫

The iconic melody began to play. The audience went crazy and people were singing excitedly. Several of your classmates crowded next to you to watch the performance. “Kayn looks great as always” you thought as you watched him rap with his cool flow. 

"I love you, Kayn!" A girl next to you shouted that you didn't see before because you were stunned by Kayn's performance. 

It was the captain. Kayn's girl. “Here we go again…” you thought before the avalanche of insecurities took over your body again. While listening to Paranoia, you realized something. “I already did what I had to do, now I can go home” you thought as you turned around and disappeared among the tsunami of students. 

♫ They prayin' for the death of the rockstar. ♫ 

The song ended. The members' ears were greeted by the roar of the public. Everyone was happy, even Kayn... until he realized that you weren't among the people applauding. You had abandoned him. A panic sensation took over his body and he needed to act immediately. He didn't hesitate to run off the stage to go after you. 

“You're so dumb, it's like you've never dealt with a woman before!” he thought, annoyed with himself before leaving the auditorium. His eyes searched for you in panic. If he let you go, he would lose you. He ran all over campus looking for you. He was grateful to have an athletic body so he could run at full speed after an energetic performance. 

He finally left campus and saw you sitting on a bench waiting for the bus that would take you home. You looked sad, as if you were holding back tears. Kayn ran over to you and pulled you out of your seat so you would get up. 

"I told you... to look… at me!" He said angrily with his voice cracking from fatigue. You were so shocked by the state he was in that you forgot you were about to cry. He was bathed in sweat, his hair was messy, and he had lost one of his piercings. 

"But I did see you, you did great," You said, confused. His hands wrapped around your wrists tightly carefully so he wouldn’t hurt you. It was like he was afraid you would run away again.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, catching his breath. 

"I'm going home. What are you doing here? The captain must be waiting for you," You asked, still confused. Kayn took a deep breath and looked into your eyes. He was ready to confess his crimes. 

"I lied. I don't have a date tonight. I was just jealous of Yone and wanted to make you feel the same. I'm sorry," He confessed heavily, feeling guilty for his actions. 

"What?" Your eyes widened at that unexpected revelation. 

"The girl is from my class and is a Heartsteel fan. She wanted help getting closer to Yone," he sounded like he regretted his actions, as if he were about to cry as well. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. 

"You look so hot. You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you," he said with a mischievous smile as if that was going to fix something when you were still more lost than a child alone in a busy mall on Christmas. 

"What?" You repeated, not knowing what to say. Kayn took your hand and pulled you to him. 

"Let's go somewhere more private." He said as he guided you. 

The school was empty because everyone was in the auditorium. Kayn ended up leading you to the music room. It was becoming a habit for both to meet there from time to time. A custom that, unfortunately, would last only a little longer. You left your guitar in the entryway as you watched Kayn trying to find the best words to start the conversation. 

"Do you know why my relationships don't last?" He asked, embarrassed. 

“Don't say it, don't say it '' you repeated to yourself in your mind. You knew perfectly well the reason. His girlfriends didn't last long because he had a mad personality. You had listened to Rhaast complain about his countless girlfriends for over two years, thinking how lucky you were to not fall into his charisma. Oh, how the tables turn, huh?

"Because you are... an idiot?" You finally responded. “Shit, I said it!” You scolded yourself. Kayn let out a malicious chuckle. 

"An idiot you wrote a song for," He finished off and destroyed you. You felt like your soul detached from your body and it didn't know how to get back. Your head hang in surrender. 

"Did Yone tell you?" You asked with a thin voice. 

"In the end, I was right. You're crazy for me," he said, still smiling to himself, but his serious expression returned when he remembered why he had brought you in the first place. It wasn't time to flirt. 

"But you're right, I'm an asshole. That's why everyone cuts me off when they realize. I'm not patient, I'm rude, I hate a lot of people, I drive like a maniac, I don't like being bombarded with attention but I also don't like not being given attention, and well, you know, a lot of other things..." He explained, still embarrassed. This caused him to recap in his mind every girlfriend he had in the past. 

"Most girls approach me because of how cool I look and am, but they break up with me when they realize who I really am," he explained. 

He also explained that this not only happened with girls, but also with ex friends. He told you that he used to be in another band before Heartsteel and that they kicked him out because he was a “troublemaker.” It was the first time you saw Kayn open up in such a way. He finally felt comfortable enough to vent to you. 

"Then I met you. We've been talking for two years and you never judged me when I thought I could never change who I am. Today you showed me that I can. I just needed motivation to do so, and that's you," he said before reaching out to take your hands. It was something he had done before, but this time felt different. It's like he was finally holding a valuable and fragile object. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, it's just that I couldn't bear losing you like the others. You are the most important person in my life," he said as he tenderly caressed your knuckles with his thumbs. 

The information was still being processed in your mind. You didn't know how to react, you still couldn't believe that Kayn thought that way about you. You were relieved that you at least had a special place in Kayn's mind, in his heart you didn't know, but in his mind it was obvious. 

His hands cupped your flushed cheeks. Kayn looked into your eyes, then lowered his gaze for a second to your lips and then brought it back up again. His thumbs caressed your skin with a tenderness you didn't think he was capable of. 

"I want you to be by my side forever," He whispered so that you were the only person in the world who could hear him. Your heart began to jump with joy upon hearing that your most precious wish was being granted to you. 

His touch felt like a dream, his eyes gave you warmth and his words were full of hope. You whispered his name, letting him know that you wanted the same thing. Kayn bravely reduced the distance between you. His lips brushed against yours and you felt like your feet were no longer touching the ground. 

Kissing Kayn was like sailing through a storm. His kisses were fierce and volatile but his hands running along your waist gave you security so you could enjoy the adrenaline. You hugged him by the neck to get closer to him, melting into each other. Kayn deepened the kiss, causing you to step back until your back hit the wall behind you. 

Even though he already had experience with other girls, Kayn was enjoying every second as if it were his first time. Their lips moved in sync as if you had done this before. He didn't hesitate to stick his tongue inside your mouth which caught you off guard because you didn't have much experience, but you trusted him and just let yourself go. 

Kayn ran his hands over your body without any shame. He didn't care at all if anyone saw you, he wanted to enjoy that first kiss to the fullest. The fingers of his right hand tickled your hips while the other one grabbed your butt tightly. It was the first time Kayn felt so grateful with the gods to be with someone as cool and patient as you. 

"Kayn, don't do that... Ouch!" You scolded him as soon as he bit your neck. He coldly planned to leave you a deep purple hickey for everyone to see. You tried to stop him but the vampire didn't want to leave your neck alone. He only stopped because his phone started ringing. He reluctantly moved away from your neck to answer. It was Ezreal. 

"Hey, Kayn! Where are you?! We won the cont-!" Kayn hung up on him because he had more important matters to attend to. 

"Kayn! Don't give me a hickey! My mom can see it!" You scolded him as he looked at you tenderly. He couldn't take you seriously when your face looked like a tomato. He silenced you with another kiss that you gladly received. 

Finally, he was all yours. You have achieved it, how? You still didn't know exactly how but you were happy with the result even though you thought he was out of your league. 

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Masterlist.

[brairslair]

Hey!! I loved your Peter Parker fic!!

I hope you're taking requests, if yes can you please write harry potter x ravenclaw!reader? Where reader is a muggleborn and loves muggle music, she does this thing where she gives all her friends a song which reminds her of them, even multiple to Hermione (who secretly loves it and listens to those on loop) and ron( who tries to act like he doesn't care but secretly feels loved) but she's never given harry a song, despite him being her best friend. But after one of DA meetings they are alone and harry asks her why doesn't she give him a song (fallin' all in you- Shawn Mendez) and she plays it for him a and that it reminds her of him, AND THEY KISS!!

I'm really sorry if it's too specific, please feel free to change anything! THANK YOU SM!! I LOVE YOUR FICS!!❤️❤️✨

definitely not too specific! i love that you gave me so much to work with, so ty anon! i did switch it up a little bit, but i hope it turned out to your liking!

318 Hours 43 Minutes ˗ˏˋ H.J.P ´ˎ˗

“Be my summer in a winter day, love”

harry potter x ravenclaw!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

REQUESTED: yes requests are open! fandoms: marvel, stranger things, harry potter (any era), scream

WARNINGS: fem reader, not proofread, fluff fluff fluff, muggleborn!reader, reader is described as somewhat of a musical prodigy, modern music, mobile phones, and spotify all exist in this timeline, 7th year, kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lover ig, joking mentions of death, lmk if i missed smth!

A/N: i'm sure there are tons of grammatical errors in here but lets pretend we don't see them!

ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing!

If there was one thing you couldn't live without, it would be music. It was almost impossible to recall a time you had left your dorms without your headphones. Music had just always been a huge part of your life. Growing up, your parents got you into piano lessons, and you were playing Beethoven by the end of the first month. After that, you picked up as many instruments as you could afford, starting with violin, then guitar, the flute, and now the harp. Your parents had to soundproof the house.

Once you got your acceptance into Hogwarts as a witch, your whole world turned upside down. You were sorted into Ravenclaw, which felt very fitting, and were assigned a dormmate, Padme Patil. The two of you clicked immediately and became instant friends. After a few months of hanging out with the Patil sisters, you were introduced to three Gryffindor students in your year; Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. Instantly, you felt some sort of a connection pulling you to them, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

You started hanging out with "The Golden Trio", as you affectionately called them, all the time, and the four of you eventually became a quartet. You had grown especially close with Harry, and the two of you did almost everything together. Well, everything except study.

After one particular study date with Hermione, you were thrilled to learn that she shared the same love for muggle music as you did. The two of you rambled on and on about your favorites, uncharacteristically losing track of your studies.

"The song Rises the Moon reminds me a lot of you!" You mindlessly exclaimed, watching as Hermione's eyes lit up.

The rest was history. You were known to associate songs with the people around you, and you had no shame in telling them. You had given Hermione, Ron, and the Patil sisters a countless number of songs over the years. In fact, you had given them so many, that a few had made playlists to keep track of all of them. Ron was the most hesitant to accept the recommendations, but Hermione told you she had caught him singing along to them in the common room on multiple occasions.

Every once in a while, you would even see another student studying in the library, maybe one you had only said 'Hello' to in passing, and a song would just scream out to you so loudly that you had to leave them a note about it as you left.

It was like your own personal love language, and you loved being able to make people smile, even if they never listened to the song.

The one person close to you whom you had never given a song to, was the infamous Harry Potter, and it was painfully hard for him to ignore. After almost seven years of being best friends, you would think he would have been worthy of at least one song, right?

He watched as you expertly conjured up the Draught of Peace potion the class was supposed to be working on, smacking Ron's hand away when he goes to touch it. Watching you was the only thing that made this class somewhat bearable.

He can't get it out of his head... the fact that you've never given him a song. He's been thinking about it non-stop since you gave that Hufflepuff boy a song in the dining hall a few days ago.

It wasn't news to him that he had been in love with you since 5th year, probably longer than that before he had even realized, but he would sooner die than admit it out loud.

You were the most important person in the world to him, but he was almost positive you didn't feel the same way. He would never be able to forgive himself if he ruined your friendship. So, he just kept his big mouth shut and pretended like there was nothing there.

He thought he was really good at faking it too. He wasn't.

Anyone with eyes could see the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way his smile looked ten times brighter when you were around. It was blatantly obvious he had it bad for you.

What wasn't as obvious was that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you. You may have been much better at hiding it, but anyone close to you could see it clear as day. I mean, it was silly really. The way you were both so stupidly in love and too scared to see it.

Harry snapped to attention as Professor Snape called on him, spitting out to 'straighten his spine and get back to work'. He grumbled something under his breath before following instructions. When he looked back at you, he found your eyes already on him, giggling at the scene he had caused before returning to your schoolwork. He loved hearing your laugh.

As the class ended, Harry gathered his things into his bookbag, slinging it over his shoulder as he straightened his robes. Snape was the first to leave the classroom, followed by a small swarm of students who were anxious to get back to the common rooms for some much-needed free time. Harry looked over to where you and Ron had been sitting, watching you pull out a scrap of parchment with messy little scribbles on it, before sliding it over to the red head.

"I found a new song the other night, and it reminded me so much of you, I just had to write it down before I forgot the title." You smiled, watching Ron look over the writing, thanking you awkwardly as he shoved it into his pocket.

Harry suddenly felt his pockets get lighter.

"I'll be in the library with Hermione tonight. Wants to tutor me for Transfiguration." He said in an annoyed tone, though you knew he was secretly looking forward to it. "You wanna come? Could use all the help I can get."

Harry secretly hoped you would say no.

You packed up all your belongings, making sure not to forget any of your notes, "Yeah, sure! Just have to do a few things first, but I can stop by in a bit." You smiled, the way you always do, as you shoved folders into your bag.

"Alright," Ron nodded, "I'll see you." He said as you waved each other goodbye, Ron heading for the exit. "Oh hey, Harry." He threw out casually as he left the room, calling attention to the boy in the back of the otherwise empty classroom.

You quickly turned around, smiling brightly when you saw him still sitting awkwardly in his seat. "Oh hey, Harry!" You repeated, "You're still here?"

Harry regained common sense then, now realizing he had been staring at you for the past hour, he stood from his seat and walked over to you. "Yeah..." He trailed off dumbly, still in his own thoughts. He head got cloudy as your perfume surrounded him.

He had debated on bringing it up for the past few months, but was to scared of your response. Honestly at this point, he could barely focus on anything BUT asking you about it. He figured that at this point it would be better to just get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid.

"Hey, uh... Could I ask you something?" His voice cracked.

"Yeah, of course!" You finally slung the bag over your shoulder, giving Harry your full attention. "Ask away."

Your voice sounded sickly sweet, and it somehow made him more nervous. "Alright... Well, uh, I was just wondering-" He felt far too vulnerable to look into your eyes, so instead he looked at your shoulder. He had to clear his throat, "I was wondering why you've never given me a song?" He slurred out, trying to act casual about it while his heart was beating at top speeds.

Your smile immediately dropped, and Harry's stomach fell into his shoes at the sight. Now it was your turn to avoid eye contact, looking down at your feet and chewing on your cheek as you debated a response.

Harry felt like he was about to pass out. His hands grew clammy, and he could hear his heart hammering in his ears. The only times he had ever seen you not smiling were when something really terribly tragic had happened, or when your friends were upset themselves. This had to be a bad sign, right?"

Meanwhile, a million thoughts swirled through your head. You had hoped he hadn't noticed the exclusion, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he brought it up. You felt sick to your stomach. How could you lie your way out of this one? You hated lying, especially to Harry, and you didn't want to hurt him. Could you really risk telling him the truth? What if he freaks out and goes running for the hills and all your years of friendship are ruined?

"You know what, it doesn't matter." Harry brushed off weakly, starting to back away from you, "I don't need to know! It's no big deal, just forget I even said anything-"

"Harry, wait-" you instinctually grabbed his hand, making him freeze. You let go to reach into your bag, Harry cautiously getting closer. His confusion increased when you pulled your phone out, rapidly typing on it to pull something up. When you finally found it, you took a deep breath. Once he saw what you were about to show him, there would be no turning back. Finally, you made yourself turn the phone around so Harry could see the screen.

It was a private playlist titled "For Harold", and the cover photo was a picture that Hermione took of the two of you after a snowball fight last Christmas break. Falling all over each other in laughter, completely covered in snow.

You handed the phone to him, limbs shaking too much to hold it steady. He looked below the title to see the timestamp read 318h 43m.

You felt like your stomach was being tied in knots.

"This is why I've never given you a song." You admitted quietly. His expression was hard to read. Brows furrowed and mouth slightly open in shock. "I just... There were too many that reminded me of you."

Harry still hadn't looked at you or said a word, and you started to feel like you'd bounce right off the floor with how much you were vibrating.

Then he stopped scrolling, staring at the title of one particular song much too long for your liking. Even worse, he pressed play. As soon as the song started, you shrunk down into the desk behind you.

Sunrise, with you on my chest No blinds in the place where I live Daybreak, open your eyes Cause this was only ever meant to be for one night We're changing our minds here Be yours, be mine, dear

You busied yourself by playing with your fingers, looking absolutely anywhere but at Harry.

So close with you on my lips Touch noses, feeling your breath Push your heart and pull away, yeah Be my summer in a winter day, love

You started to feel incredibly antsy, regretting ever showing him the playlist. "We really don't have to listen to the whole thing-"

I can't see one thing wrong Between the both of us Be mine, be mine, yeah Anytime, anytime

You squeezed your eyes shut to try and save yourself from some embarrassment, but when you opened them, you found Harry looking at you with the biggest smile you'd ever seen in your life. Your belly flipped.

You are bringing out a different kind of me There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free Fallin' all in you Fell for men who weren't how they appear, yeah Trapped up on a tightrope now we're here, we're free Fallin' all in you

Harry was beaming, putting the phone down on the desk beside him. He slowly made his way closer to you, and no matter how badly you wanted to look away from him, you couldn't.

He was now so close to you that you could feel his breath fan across your lips, and the song faded in the background as your heart pounded. "Is this how you really feel? About me?" He asked as his cheeks turned pink, and you couldn't help but find the silly question endearing.

You nodded your head, deciding that your voice would give out if you tried to speak right now. The eye contact was almost unbearable, and you broke it with a quick glance down to his lips.

The second you did, his lips were immediately on yours, pressing hard into you. You gasped against his lips in shock. You felt like your whole body was on fire.

He pulled away too soon, mumbling a boyish "Sorry about that-", before you chased his lips and pulled them back down to yours, muffling the rest of his apology. This time it lasted.

Your lips felt like they were home against his, moving slow and sweet, like you had all the time in the world. You sighed happily into the kiss, pouring the years of pent-up feelings out for each other. His lips tasted like pumpkin, and butterbeer, and the sweet vanilla chapstick you gave him. It made you giggle a little against his lips.

You melted as he mindlessly cornered you against the desk, his hands gently holding your face like you were made of glass. You wrapped your arms around his neck to ground yourself. His lips curled up into a smile against yours, and you involuntarily matched the expression. It all felt so... right. Like all of the pieces were finally falling into place.

Unfortunately, you both need oxygen, so you were forced to pull away. He rested his forehead against yours, as you share the air between you. You pulled him impossibly closer, nudging his nose with yours, both knowing you felt just as lovesick for each other.

Then your phone dinged. Harry looked down at the message from Ron, reading "Hey, you still coming tonight?"

He picked it up to respond, "Can't, sorry!" before flipping it over carelessly, both of you giggling as he pulled you back for another kiss.

i had so much fun writing thissss ugh this was such a sweet prompt. tysm anon!

[warmaidensrevenge]

It's not a never.

Pairings: Eddie x fem!best friend Plus size reader

A/N: Happy Sunday loves. Here I present the final part in this series. It's a bit steamy if you ask me. So ready your naughty bits. As always thanks for reading. Please feel free to share and comment your thoughts. It really gives me a boost of dopamine that I crave. So anything is awesome. Kay love ya. Byyyyyeeee.

I do not give permission for my work to be posted anywhere else. Please respect all creators. Also, all pictures and songs are from a Google search and found on Spotify. A huge thank you and credit to the original posters and artists.

Word count: 3,824

Warnings: 18+ No minors please. Angst, language, sexual implications, sexual situations, p&v, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex and mentions of alcohol use. Not proof read

Part 4: Right now

Summary: Time goes by. But feelings still remain.

The farewell was in fact unbearable. It hurt Eddie like hell. But what hurt the most was a year after. College life became hectic for you. Which caused letters and phone calls to lessen. 

Then the guys got a big break. It was a small record label with very little rapport. But it was one he had a good feeling about. They made a deal for one full album and a few shows to promote it. 

It was a very busy year that turned into two. Then three.

Before any of them knew it, they were playing sold out shows. 

Things were working out. His dreams were coming true. But he never forgot about that girl with the sweet little smile. Though it has been some time since he saw it. He was fortunate enough to see it again one summer night in that third year.

The band was performing at one of their favorite places one hot night. They loved it because it was on a rooftop. Where they could see most of the city.

Tonight though, Eddie could only focus on the pretty girl with the small smile he almost forgot if it weren't for the prom picture he kept in his wallet.

The second the set was over, he jumped off the stage and ran to you. Obviously dodging the groupies and fans asking for autographs.

You yelped when he embraced you. Surprised when he picked you up a little.

“ Oh shit! I can't believe this!” He said when he planted you back down. 

You giggled. “Hi Eddie.”

He leaned back a little and grinned like crazy. “ When did-” He was cut off by the rest of his buddies.

He took a few steps back to let everyone have their turn with you. To be honest he needed the minute to get over the shock of seeing you. 

One thing led to another and you guys went out for drinks then ended up back at their apartment.

The whole night you guys were hanging off each other. Loving glances were shared and every word you said sounded like a love spell to him. And that didn't end when it was just you two.

Everyone else went to bed and he wasn't tired at all. So why end the night? Who knows when he was gonna see you again.

“ Ehem. So Eddie?” You said, putting your half empty glass on the coffee table. “ How many times do I have to squeeze your thigh to get you to kiss me?”

He laughed nervously.

You gave him a sexy sly grin. “ Common I've been flirting with you all night.”

He cleared his throat and smirked while you moved closer to him. It was true. You were flirting. He was too. And he shouldn't have. 

You reached up to move his bangs to the side. After you rested your hand much closer to his genitals. 

He quickly put a hand on yours. Just in case you decided to touch him further. “ Ummm…” he mumbled and met your beautiful eyes.

If things were different, he wouldn't question a damn thing and take you right here and now. Maybe even on the floor and the kitchen counter. Definitely fuck you in the shower and again on his bed. But he couldn't.

He exhaled. “ I'm kinda seeing someone.”

You practically jumped back. Pulling your hand away in the process. He could see how red you were getting from embarrassment.

“ Crap! Ed- I'm…uhhhh I'm sorry. I should go.”

You stood up and without thinking he grabbed your arm and stood up too.

“ No! I mean. Please don't go.”

You looked at him and shook your head. “ No I should. I've embarrassed myself enough for a lifetime.”

You tried to go but he gently pulled you back and cupped the sides of your face. 

“ Common kid. Don't be embarrassed. I was flirting too.” He hung his head a little. “ I shouldn't have but…it's you.”

He felt your warm soft hands on his. Making him meet your eyes. 

“ Eddie I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come and -”

“ No. You did nothing wrong. It was me. I should've said I was seeing someone sooner…but seriously, don't go. I-I've missed you…So fuckin much.”

You bit your lip and nodded. “ Okay. But you have to sit on the other side of the couch.”

He dropped his hands and held onto yours. “ Yeah, or I'm gonna have to make a phone call and become single.”

Your eyes widened. “ I'm flattered, but probably don't do that.”

You both grinned at one another before returning to the couch. Talking until the sun came up.

For Eddie it was heartbreaking saying goodbye to you that next morning. You were still that funny, sweet, affectionate girl from highschool. You were still the person he could talk to for hours without a care in the world. And he remembered the love that he still had for you. 

What he learned last night was that you were so busy with school that you didn't have time to date. He also found out that college was much harder than you thought it was gonna be. So hard that you changed your major twice.

Eventually, you found something you really saw yourself doing. Career wise that is. And he was happy for you. Just like how you were happy for him and the guys. 

Still, there was still something between you two. Something he wished he could explore. Something that just flowed with you. It was as if you guys picked up from where you left off.

It irked him. It bothered him so much that he actually opened up to his girlfriend about it. 

At first she was quiet, then she got pissed. Eventually, she calmed down and broke up with him. And to be honest it didn't really affect him that much. Sure he liked her. She was fun to be around. But after talking to you, he realized he never had a decent conversation with her. It was just partying and sex mostly. 

It wasn't her fault though. It was him. He never cared to open up to anyone besides his friends. Maybe it was because he thought no one would understand or get him. Get his quirks or quips. They probably wouldn't get his music tastes or like his nerdy side. Or maybe he didn't want anyone to. Perhaps it was because he still had hope for you. Hope that was instilled in him over the best pancakes in the world.

Either way it would be another 4 years until he would see you again.

…

Jeff was getting married. To Connie, in Hawkins. Everyone was invited and Eddie, Gareth and Grant were his groomsmen. They were all his best men cuz he couldn't choose one. 

Which was such a grueling task. Helping with the wedding and planning a bachelor party took up a lot of time. 

But besides all that, Eddie was looking forward to seeing one guest. One very important guest. The pretty girl he's been corresponding to for the past four years. 

He got in touch after you left New York. And kept up contact. He didn't want to disconnect again. Lose you again.

Though nothing was ever said about getting together, he anticipated that after the wedding he was gonna leave with you. Finally getting to that right now you had mentioned seven years ago.

-

He was near the entrance of the church, saying his hellos with the rest of the wedding party when he saw you. 

Everything around him seemed to slow down as you exited the car and fixed your royal blue dress. You looked around and smiled at the people you knew. Then you went to help your mom out of the car. 

He absolutely could not look away. You were a knockout. Absolutely gorgeous. 

What were the chances he could sneak you out of the party and make love somewhere? Maybe he could convince you to leave early. 

He suddenly felt a jab in the ribs. 

“ Ouch! What the fu-” he groaned as he looked at Gareth who was nodding towards Jeff's grandma. “ Oh right!” He uttered, holding out his elbow for her. “ Hello there young lady, I am to escort you to your VIP spot.”

She hit him with an ohh you and took his arm. He looked back to see if he could catch your eye. But it wasn't until the ceremony that he did. 

With a big smile you lifted your hand. Giving him a little wave. He smirked and looked down. Continuing down the aisle. 

Damn! He thought. He really wanted you to be a part of the wedding party.

Originally you were, but you had just started a new job and couldn't get away for rehearsals or any planning. So you opted to only be a guest. Which sucked for him because now he had to look at the happy couple instead of staring at you.

Once he got to the altar he met your gaze again. He knew he must look crazy grinning the way he was. But he didn't care. The girl he was in love with was in the same town, at the same place he was. And he was gonna make sure he left with you.

-

The vows and I do’s were said and the pastor gave the bride and groom the go ahead for a kiss. 

Eddie looked over at you and you had tears of joy falling from your eyes. He pulled out his  handkerchief and took a few steps towards you. Asking for the person sitting in front of you to hand it off. 

You blushed and wiped the tears away while he went back to his spot. Gareth nudged him, but he didn't care. He had to make sure you were good. 

At this point he would do anything for you. He would give anything to be with you. He'd say anything and everything he could just to see you smile. And for a second he pictured what his life would be like with you.

Applause broke out and he clapped along as Jeff and Connie walked back down the aisle together. Once they were at the end, the guys and bridesmaids followed. 

He looked at you again and you were talking to your dad. However, you met his eyes as he passed and mouthed a thank you. 

He nodded and planned on circling back around so that he could get to you. Unfortunately, he had to go in the limo as soon as they walked out. 

Apparently word mysteriously got out that Jeff was getting married. So there were paparazzi and a handful of fans waiting outside the chapel. 

It was a good thing that they had security on standby just in case this happened. 

Everyone was escorted into the car and rushed off.

Jeff was pissed but Connie calmed him down. Saying that to not let it ruin their day. 

Eddie smiled to himself. He was happy for his friend. Jeff had found the girl he was meant to be with. Even with the band getting bigger and the crazy schedules. One of his best friends got to spend the rest of his life with someone who calmed him. Who accepted him for all that he is and truly made him happy. 

Eddie was a little envious of it. Still, he was completely overjoyed for his buddy. 

He wanted that. More than anything, he wanted you. So it was his prerogative to be with you.

-

Everyone had to show their invitations to get into the dance hall. But once in, the music was going and drinks were being served. 

Eddie waited patiently by the door. Nearly jumping up and down. Excited to finally get to talk to you. 

While giving security your invitation you locked eyes with him and smiled from ear to ear. 

You looked away for a second then followed your parents in. 

He said hello to everyone as they made their way down the line to the newly Weds. Finally it was your dad's turn. They shook hands and your mom was next.

“ Why hello there, gorgeous. You are a vision.”

Victoria blushed and gave him a playful smack. “ Stop it.”

He laughed and gave her a hug. 

At last, it was your turn. 

“ Hi Eddie.”

He stood there with his lips together and an eyebrow raised. Giving you his flirtatious smile. “ Hi baby.”

You tilted your head to the side and raised both brows. “ Baby?”

He beamed at you and grabbed your hand. Pulling you closer to him. “ Yeah. You're my baby girl now.” 

Before you could say anything, he pulled you into a long warm hug. Rocking you from side to side. Making you laugh.

Grant cleared his throat. “ Alright Munson, you're holding up the line.”

You pulled away but he didn't want to let you go. He gave your hand one last squeeze before releasing it. His eyes never left you as you finally made it down to Jeff and Connie. 

He smiled as you took Connie's hand and twirled her around. Clearly admiring how beautiful she looked in her gown. Then you gave her hug. Moving on to the groom. He chuckled seeing you and Jeff do your nerdy handshake before hugging.

Afterwards, everyone sat down to eat. Eddie of course didn't want to sit with the rest of the party. Not while you were just a few feet away. He grabbed his plate and his beer and went to sit next to you. 

“ Eddie…Connie's is gonna kill you.” You warned.

He looked up at the head table and saw Jeff and Connie just enamored with each other. Not really paying attention to anything or anyone else but each other for that matter.

He put a hand on the back of your chair and scooted closer. “ I don't think they care.”

He watched you as you glanced at your friends and smiled.

“ Awww I love them.”

He reached up and moved your hair behind your shoulder. Causing you to look at him. “ Want to get out of here?”

You jerked your head back. “ Dude! It's our best friend's wedding.”

-

As the night progressed you guys were practically inseparable. You danced, drank, and talked. It was as if nothing had changed between you two. He made you laugh and you made him nervous. 

It felt right.

Even the approving nods he got from his friends and family assured him this was it. He could do this with you. 

Your parents were about ready to leave a couple hours later and you along with them. What could he do to get you to stay?

“ I-I can get you a ride home later if you want.” He offered.

You shook your head. “ No, I have some work to do so I better get going.”

He frowned. “ But we hardly got to hang out.”

You looked down, clearly to him, trying to think of something. When he came up with something first.

“ I uhh I should probably try and find a hotel for tonight.”

You met his eyes with yours. “ Why?”

He nudged his head towards the door. Where there were paparazzi hanging out with cameras at the ready. “ I was gonna stay with my uncle, but I don't want those guys to bother him.”

“O-oh… ummm well you know my parents still have the pull out in the basement. I could...if you want, I could sneak you out? But what about everyone else?”

He shrugged. To hell with them for the night. “ They're adults, they can figure out something I'm sure.”

You softly laughed. “ Alright. How about you go out the service entrance and we’ll circle around for you?”

He smirked. “ Let's go.”

-

He was laying there in his boxers trying to figure out how to sneak past your parents room and get into your bedroom. Sure it was probably a stupid idea to try and have sex while your parents were across the hall. However he needed you. He craved your lips, and your warmth. He wanted your body next to his.

So he decided to grab something to drink, then see if your parents had gone to bed.

What he found was even better. 

You were in the kitchen grabbing a Popsicle. Wearing nothing but a long shirt and tube socks.

When you turned around you jumped. “ Eddie!” You half whispered. 

He grinned. “ Sorry baby. Was thirsty.”

He went for a glass to pour himself some tap water. Paying attention to your movements. You had gone to sit at the table and started sucking on the ice cream. All the while reading a manuscript. 

He gulped down his drink and went to sit next to you. Pulling the chair as close to you as possible. 

You did your best to ignore him and his advances. But the way he played with your hair made you shift closer to him. 

You had gotten so overcome by his light touch on your thigh that you squeezed your legs shut. You then flipped the page you were working on and licked the Popsicle that was melting all over your hand. Some of the sweet syrup dripped down your chin. And before you could wipe it away he grabbed your hand with one arm and lightly held your chin between his index finger and thumb with the other. He then licked a fat strip from the underside of your chin up to your bottom lip.

He smirked to himself hearing your breath hitch. He had you right where he wanted. 

He stood up and grabbed your hand. Stealing your sweet treat and finishing it off before leading you down to the basement. Of course locking the door behind you. 

When he got you on the bed, he finally took that kiss he'd been dying for all day and everyday for the past seven years

Wet and needy. Tongues dancing together. Exploring tenaciously. With hands doing the same.

He started needing your breast and was surprised by something hard. Curious, he went under the shirt and felt two small metal balls on either side of your hardened nipple. 

He groaned against your lips. “ Fuck baby. I like this.”

You laughed softly and whispered. “ I knew you would.”

He grinned while he played with your piercing. After a bit he kissed his way down your body until he reached your underwear. But instead of taking them off. He moved the damp cloth to the side and spread you a part. 

He was addicted as soon as his tongue touched you. The sweet, sweet nectar that poured from you drove him mindless. But even more so feeling your hand get lost in his curls as the other covered your mouth. Trying to conceal your pleasure.

He stared up at you, enjoying your contorted face as he sucked and licked and swallowed like there was no tomorrow. 

Then he added fingers. Doing a come hither motion. Wasn't long after that. Your body trembled as an orgasm hit. Your pussy throbbed around his fingers. Coating them generously with your wetness.

He waited patiently for you to come down before climbing back up your body and crashing his lips into yours. And when he did you sucked in his bottom lip. Causing him to push his hardened length against your soaked undergarments.

You pushed him up off of you and got on your knees before him. He watched in awe as you wrapped your hair up and freed his cock from its cotton prison.

You teased him at first. Giving his head little kitten licks and kisses. It was maddening. Feeling your slick tongue swirl around the tip before retreating back into your mouth. 

“ Baby please!” He begged.

You looked up with darkened eyes and a less than angelic smile. “ Shhh. You have to be quiet.”

He pouted. Pleading you with his eyes. 

Then you did it. You took the whole damn thing. Making him reach for the back of your head and lifting his hips to go deeper. 

The hum in your throat had his eyes rolling back and toes curled until they hurt. 

A few seconds passed by and he felt your throat close around him as you started to choke. He loosened his grip and let you back off. 

He opened his eyes and focused on you. Watching you catch your breath before taking him in again. This time not so deep. Adding your hand into the mix. 

It was fucking amazing. Every slurp, every gag, every teasing lick around his balls nearly had him cumming. Even more so when you forced him in every once every other stroke. Building up his confidence and his orgasm.

“ Sh-shit baby…got-gotta stop.” 

You let him go with a small pop and had a concerned look in your eyes.“ Everything okay?”

He licked his lips and swallowed. “ Yeah. Fuckin perfect. Just don't wanna cum yet.”

He leaned forward and pulled you into a kiss while helping you up. 

You stood before him and used his shoulders for balance as he peeled off your panties. 

Once they were at your feet you kicked them off and straddled him. Slowly lowering yourself on his shaft. 

Your mouth fell open and your eyes screwed shut and his tip pushed through. 

“ OH MY GOD!” He moaned. 

Your warm tight pussy clinged to him. Hugging him like no other has before. Feeling you flutter around him as you rocked back and forth had him focusing on not cumming. 

He buried his face in your bosom and concentrated on his target. That one special spot that made you cry out his name. That spot that not only drove you over the edge but made him see heaven.

Sure enough he found it. But at this angle he couldn't touch it as much and he wanted to. 

So he wrapped his arms around you and held on tightly as he flipped you over on your back. 

You giggled in the process and stole a kiss and he repositioned himself. When he looked at you, you were grinning up at him.

“ Oh Eddie. So serious.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and rammed himself in. Earning that yelp/ moan. He reached up to cover your mouth as he plowed into you.

“ This. Is. Serious.” He grunted. 

Your eyes got lost in the back of your head as he thrusted hard and steady. Your moans turning into whimpers and sighs as he fucks you into the bed.

And within moments your body and his reacted to the immense pleasure. 

The climax washed over you like a wave of ecstasy.

Once it passes, he rested his forehead on yours panting with you. Letting his hand fall away from your mouth. 

“ I've missed you so much.” He whispered.

You nodded in agreement that he was also missed. 

He kissed your forehead. “ I'll go find something to clean you up.”

He then pulled out slowly and put on his bottoms.

When he came back he had a warm washcloth with him. He gently cleaned between your legs then himself before pulling you to lay in his arms.

You had started tracing his tattoos. Making him smile.

That's when he found himself writing something on your arm.

‘Marry-me-yeah?’

You sighed lightly and snuggled closer to him. Tracing your answer on his chest.

‘Okay’

He raised his head to look at you. " Yeah?"

You nodded. " On one condition...You have to break the news to Grant."

Eddie threw his head back into the pillow and smacked his forehead. " Shit! He's gonna kill me."

You giggled. " Yup."

…

@salenorona23 @browneyes528 @ohmeg @eddiesguitarskills @trashywormeateroffics @eddie-is-a-god @crookedcrone

[onigiriico]

Muu audio drama (t2) - English TL

[ links: Spotify / YT Music ]

Behold, the longest voice drama I’ve ever posted. This thing is almost 2.3k words long. I am in pain /lh

As always, feel free to head to my ask box or my Twitter (now actually with open DMs lmao) for any questions, potential mistranslations, etc.!

Also,, Trigger warning (aside from. well. the usual Milgram things): Towards the end, they discuss another character’s threat of suicide. It’s nothing super graphic, but there sure are... opinions on it, so please proceed with caution if that’s a touchy topic for you!

⬇️ translation under the cut ⬇️

(door opens)

M: Ah, it’s been a while, Warden-san. – Things have gotten tough, haven’t they… Everyone seems to be struggling and the whole atmosphere feels tense because everyone’s struggling, it’s really troublesome.

E: Is that so?

M: But as for me, I think Milgram has become a lot more comfortable! I know now that I can get whatever I want if I ask for it, so I don’t need to be so on edge anymore.

E: …

M: You did say that you and Milgram are our allies, and maybe you were right all along!

E: …

M: Aww, it’s boring if it’s just me talking! We’re talking to each other for the first time in a while, so you tell me about something interesting too, Warden-san~

E: You’re in pretty high spirits.

M: Am I?

E: I feel like you’ve brightened up.

M: Maybe…

E: But following the judgment after your first trial, the situation in Milgram has changed. And in the aftermath, Kotoko has attacked people too… From how I remember you, I would have expected you to feel uneasier than this.

M: Huh? But that has nothing to do with me.

E: What?

M: The ones who are suffering are the ones who have done bad things, right? You know, like, what goes around comes around.

E: …

M: Besides, Kotoko hurt and was mean to the people who didn’t get forgiven by you, right?

E: …Yeah.

M: Wouldn’t it be weird for me to have any thoughts on that, then? After all, I didn’t do anything wrong. You forgave me!

E: …

M: Eh? Is something wrong? Those who didn’t get forgiven by you must be bad people, if you ask me! I believe in you, Warden-san, so I’d hope you feel happy!

E: …Thanks for that.

M: See, you said you forgave me and that’s part of your job, so it’s probably right! Come on, come on, have some confidence!

E: … Speaking of which, you seem to be pretty close to Haruka.

M: …? Yeah! He’s the one I get along with best in Milgram!

E: Do you have some kind of goal with that?

M: Huh? E: Haruka’s loyalty towards you is one thing, but with this kind of relationship, I think it’s only natural to wonder if you’re using him for something.

M: Ehh… Warden-san, do you not have any friends?

E: Huh?

M: Are there any?

E: None that I could think of.

M: Wow, poor thing,.. I’ll teach you! Friends aren’t like that, you know. Rather than using each other for something, we just get along because we’re comfortable around each other. That’s all.

E: Well, I’m sorry about that.

M: Haruka-kun is really nice! He accepts anything I say, he listens to anything I tell him. For me, that’s really comfortable.

E: And that’s… “friendship”?

M: What do you mean? Of course we’re friends! Haruka-kun is happy with it, so it only has benefits for both of us!

E: I, as someone who has no friends, can’t judge, of course, but isn’t that just exploitation?

M: Exploitation…? Um, I don’t really understand, but… I do help him pick out clothes [in return], and I recently gave him a hairpin I didn’t need anymore as a hand-me-down!

E: …

M: We also have in common that we’re both people who were forgiven by you, Warden-san, so I don’t think it’s a relationship that anyone could have a problem with! E: … I already said this to Haruka, but Milgram consists of three trials, and I have only forgiven you this once. I think it’s too early to feel completely safe.

M: Eh~ You already decided to forgive me. I think it’d be uncool to be like, “Oh, actually, nevermind” now.

E: This is just how it is.

M: It’s fine already, isn’t it? You saw me, didn’t you? And from that, you decided that I haven’t done anything wrong, didn’t you?

E: Yeah, that’s right. For the first trial, that is.

M: It’s the same no matter how many times we do this. I’m me, after all. That won’t change.

E: If I keep looking from now on, will I come across something that puts you in a less positive light?

M: Eh?

E: Milgram reveals the truth through videos and music. After deciding whether to forgive you or not in the first trial, I’ll continue to dig deeper, searching for the truth inside your hearts once again.

M: …

E: For example: Things that you hid. Things that you forgot about. Things that weren’t visible through the rest of your strong feelings. Those are things that I’ll be shedding light on.

M: Hmm…

E: Or at least it might be.

M: …I don’t get it, but whatever. I haven’t done anything wrong, after all.

E: Is that so? It’s true that I’ve forgiven you once… but I remember feeling uneasy about it the whole time. Was it really right to forgive you? Aren’t you still hiding something? Things like that.

M: …Why… would you think stuff like that? That’s mean, Warden-san… You saw me, didn’t you? All the awful things that were done to me, that I couldn’t have escaped from without killing someone! I can’t believe you’re saying this to me, after I’ve gone through all of that… Warden-san, you’re mean.

E: Maybe I am. Your pain and suffering has certainly reached me. Or should I call it bullying? One-sided violence and mistreatment… I’m sure it was difficult to handle. It’s not unreasonable to come to the conclusion that murder is the only way for a weak person to get out of that. That’s exactly why I forgave you.

M: Yeah… If I hadn’t done that, I could have died some day.

E: But – are you actually that weak, Muu?

M: Huh?

E: That’s the source of my unease. Are you really that weak? Were you really getting picked on for being a weakling?

M: What do you mean?

E: How did it come to that in the first place? What was the cause? That’s what I don’t know. You could say it was conveniently omitted.

M: …

E: Even you yourself refuse to go there. Is it a topic that you don’t want to touch upon?

M: … Warden-san, I think you’re really doing something bad. Isn’t it a bad thing to act like there has to be something wrong with someone for them to get bullied?

E: Oh?

M: No matter the circumstances, it’s always the bullies who are in the wrong! Isn’t that obvious? Warden-san, you’re so smart, but you don’t even know things like that? Maybe you should take some lessons on morals or something.

E: …

M: Besides, even if I’ve done something wrong, there’s nothing that could justify bullying someone. Warden-san, I thought you were a nicer person.

E: So sorry that I’m not living up to your expectations.

M: If you’re reflecting on it, I’m willing to forgive you, though…

E: Could I ask the generous Muu to spoil me by letting me ask one more question, then?

M: What is it? If it’s a boring question, I don’t wanna.

E: Let’s say you’ve done nothing wrong—

M: Not “let’s say”! I have done nothing wrong!

E: Got it, got it. So, even though you’ve done nothing wrong – you got bullied. Why do you think that is?

M: I don’t know that! I mean, my family is rich, and my appearance stands out [in a good way], too… they probably did it out of envy or prejudice or something, right?

E: Right, right. And here I was with the theory that you were originally in the opposite position…

M: (slams her hands down)

E: …!

M: What are you saying…?

E: Just that it could also be speculated that you bullied someone and the tables turned on you.

M: Do you know what an awful thing you’re saying right now?

E: What are you getting this angry for? You’ve done nothing wrong, right?

M: Warden-san… I hate you.

E: This is just speculation. Don’t get so mad.

M: …

E: So what? Can you not give me an answer?

M: I haven’t bullied anyone. I’d never do such a mean thing! I’ve never hit anyone or poured water over anyone’s head. I wouldn’t do something like that! I’m not lying! I’m not telling you lies! I really haven’t done anything!

E: I see. I’ll take note of that.

M: … Um… um, by the way, Warden-san! I don’t know about this, but…

E: What?

M: You forgave me because I just gave my bullies their payback, right?

E: …Well… I guess so.

M: What was it called again… Revenge… Revenge? That means revenge can be [an acceptable motivator], right? And if you don’t forgive me this time, that’d mean that it’s not. If we leave aside the thing you said earlier about me maybe having bullied someone before – not that I actually did that, of course!

E: Sure.

M: So if I paid back what my bullies did to me, that would be revenge, right? And if you feel like I had no other choice than that, then don’t you have to forgive me?

E: … Uh… I’m not really sure what you’re trying to say…

M: You see, if you think that me bullying someone back after being bullied is the natural course of events, then wouldn’t it be bad to bully me back again in return?

E: …

M: But if you were like, “I won’t forgive you, Muu! Revenge is bad!,” then wouldn’t that imply that it’s also bad for me to bully someone back after they bullied me? Since we’ve all done something bad anyway, doesn’t that mean that I’ve not done anything wrong in the end?

E: …I think I’m kinda… starting to get your point… maybe…

M: … Warden-san, are you maybe not that intelligent, after all…?

E: Well, sorry about that.

M: Well, I guess it’s to be expected. You talk to a rabbit, after all. (giggles) Either way, you’ve understood that I haven’t done anything wrong, so it’s okay!

E: I sure have understood that talking to you isn’t getting me anywhere. But I guess since you made this explanation, I’ll take it into consideration.

M: Ah, but if you don’t forgive me, Haruka-kun will die, so I think it’d be best to not do that.

E: …!

(bell rings, machinery whirrs)

E: So you’ve heard about that nonsense too?

M: Yeah. Haruka-kun told me. So I could rest easy, according to him. That made me happy… It made me really feel our friendship!

E: You know about it and you’re not trying to stop him? Haruka, that is?

M: Why would I? Haruka-kun says he wants to do it, so there’s nothing I can do, right?

E: But you’re calling him your friend.

M: Isn’t it exactly because he’s my friend? Isn’t friendship about letting your friends do the things they want? … Are you about to tell me “that’s not what friendship is”? Then what is friendship? You’re together because it’s beneficial for everyone involved, aren’t you?

E: I don’t think Haruka is benefitting from that at all.

M: No way… It’s not like you could know what’s good for him.

E: …You sure are tough to beat.

M: I really don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Warden-san. It’s Haruka-kun’s personal freedom to decide what he wants to do, and I’m not doing anything wrong. It’s not like I’ve asked him to do it!

E: I see. That’s how it is, huh. You don’t say anything; just because you’re present, your surroundings’ wishes change to benefit you— Oh, so that’s it. Like a born queen. No, it’s like you’re influencing your surroundings not with words, but with pheromones… Just like a queen bee.

M: Pheromones…? I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I don’t like that lewd-sounding stuff…

E: That’s not the nuance I was talking about.

M: Either way, there’s people who deserve to be unforgiven more than I do, so I think you should focus your efforts on them instead. Like, Kotoko-san has done something bad, for example. Ah, but what she did was approved by you, wasn’t it?

E: …You’re making my blood boil.

M: Anyway… I think you would do good to forgive me. Then Haruka-kun will be safe too. Ah, actually, couldn’t you just forgive everyone? Then Kotoko-san won’t run amok, and you won’t have to think about all the difficult stuff.

E: That is… a very attractive proposal.

M: Right? (giggles)

E: Abandoning all the thinking… How nice it would be if I could just do that.

M: … If you ask me, I don’t really get why you don’t do it…

E: Because this is the role I’m playing.

M: But the role was given to you, wasn’t it? You didn’t end up doing this because you wanted to, right? It’s not a dream you’ve had for a long time or anything, right, Warden-san? So there’s no need to let it tie you down. Couldn’t you just quit?

E: What are you…

M: Warden-san, we call you “Warden” because that’s what you are, right? I was assigned to be a prisoner, but that doesn’t mean my heart will become just that of a “prisoner” too. After all, I’m still me.

E: …!

M: Warden-san, are you okay? Are you feeling sick again?

E: (heavy breathing)

M: That’s because you keep thinking too much about difficult things. Just stop. Being the Warden, that is.

E: … Just— shut up, already! Prisoner no.4, Muu! Sing your sins!

[autumnshighlady]

A Lesson in Language

Fëanor x female!reader

part of The Professor Series

summary: challenging your linguistics professor is your favourite past time, until he decides it's time for you to face consequences for it

warnings: smut, power dynamic, daddy kink (only a little bit at the end), rough oral sex (m receiving), hate sex, roughness, Fëanor is a raging asshole

word count: 4.4k

request: Professor Feanor x reader? With fiery smut and snarky student reader ;) I was thinking something like he’s a linguistics prof (since he did come up with a new system of writing) and he teaches this one course that reader needs to graduate but she’s annoyed that he teaches it’s either his way or nothing at all so she argues with him all the time in office hours for her marks and etc?

So since we seem to be imagining everybody as a professor: Feanor. He'd be mean, and condescending, and the gods may help you if you're not good in his class (wth is he even teaching, he's good at everything💀) But if you're his best student, and a bright mind beyond class assignments? You'll want the gods to help you for wholly different reasons.

a/n: Fëanor is a massive douche in this fic ladies pls never let a man treat u like this lmao

series playlist on Spotify here

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

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You rolled your eyes as you doodled in the margins of your notebook, trying to ignore Professor Fëanor’s arrogant voice echoing in the classroom. He was droning on about pragmatics, a topic you had mastered last year already. You hated this class – it was tedious at best, and like watching paint dry at its worst. The only reason you were begrudgingly taking it was because it was your last requirement for graduation, as the class involved drawing up your own research study instead of a final exam. Everyone who was in this class took it for one of two reasons – either they were the same as you and just needed it for graduation, or they were lovestruck morons enamoured with the professor.

Admittedly, he was an attractive male. His long, raven-black hair suited his sharp face, with grey blue eyes that surveyed the class like a hawk, picking on daydreaming students to answer difficult questions. He was always impeccably dressed, and spoke with more confidence than anyone you had ever met. Yet he was arrogant and stubborn, insisting his way was the only way to learn linguistics. He spoke to his students as if they were dumb, incapable of being anywhere near his level of knowledge. And it irritated you beyond belief.

You were well known amongst your peers for getting into arguments with the professor. Dr. Fëanor had a nasty temper that frightened most, but amused you. You were the only student who didn’t hesitate to challenge him and stick up for yourself when he decided he wanted to bully his students. You were confident in your linguistic skill set, marching to his office to argue your grades whenever he gave you a shitty mark. You could tell it infuriated him, how his best student didn’t kiss his ass like he had clearly expected you to.

“Am I interrupting your artistic time, (Y/N)?” Dr. Fëanor’s bored voice sounded a few feet away from you, snapping you back to reality. You looked up, and he was standing in front of your table, glaring down at you. The students beside you shrank back, afraid to be caught up in the professor’s wrath. But you didn’t back down, only sighing and looking up to meet his gaze.

“What was that, sir?” You asked, widening your eyes and faking innocence knowing damn well it would piss him off further.

“You haven’t been paying attention to a single thing I’ve said all week.” He snorted. “How you are my top student is beyond me, with such a short attention span.”

“I’ve been paying attention, sir.” You lied, bringing your elbows to rest on the table. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then you won’t mind a little pop quiz, just for you?”

You shrugged. “Fire away.”

“What are the three airstream mechanisms in phonetics?” His shoulders were tense, a sign of his visible annoyance towards you.

Your answer rolled off your tongue. “Pulmonic, glottalic, velaric.”

“Define a morpheme.”

“The smallest meaningful unit of language. It must have a meaning of its own, either lexical or a grammatical function, and it must be minimal, not containing any smaller units that have meanings of their own.”

“And what are the four maxims of conversation?”

“Quality, quantity, relation and manner.” You smiled, watching your professor’s face get redder as you answered his questions easily.

“Name the distinctive linguistic properties of Quenya that make it differ from Sindarin.” Dr. Fëanor smirked, cocking his head arrogantly. You knew he would ask this question, it was too predictable. He was the master of Quenya, having played a huge role in the development of the language and construction of the Tengwar alphabet. 

But as usual, he underestimated you. You took a breath, pretending to think for a moment before lifting your chin and meeting his gaze once again. “Where do I begin?” You said confidently. “Quenya is a more complex agglutinative language that strings morphemes together into long words using an inflectional system with a flexible syntax, while Sindarin has a much easier to follow language structure. Quenya uses 5 tenses to conjugate, Sindarin has 6 and words often begin with vowels whereas in Quenya, they typically end in vowels. They both use the structures SVO and OVS structures, but Sindarin uses VS and VO, although it lacks the OSV structure that Quenya has. Additionally, Quenya adopted case endings for nouns in nominative and genitive cases, using the dual plural to represent plural form since it lacks a definite article to mark the regular plural. Would you like me to go on, sir?”

The entire class was utterly silent. No one dared breathe in the moments following your monologue as you waited for your professor to reply. You expected him to yell at you, maybe throw a manuscript at your head. But he didn’t move. It began to make you uneasy, and you noticed a strange look cross his face for a half second before he finally spoke. 

“I’ve heard more than enough from you for one class.” Fëanor’s voice was leathally calm, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Keep your mouth shut for the remainder of the lecture, and pay attention.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up your pen and sitting back in your chair as the professor continued his lecture. You crossed your legs, making your skirt hike up on your thighs, but you were too annoyed to fix it. Your professor was an arrogant bastard who couldn’t comprehend that not everyone around him was as dumb as rocks. But your skin flushed as you drifted off into one of your many daydream scenarios of Fëanor bending you over his desk and taking his anger out on you. You just knew he was rough and dominant in bed, having fantasised about being on the receiving end of that fire within him.

Your daydreaming was cut short as the professor began distributing last week’s quizzes back to the students. He didn’t acknowledge your presence as he ungracefully dropped yours in front of you. You noticed quickly a note was attached to it, that read:

Be in my office at 5pm tonight. We need to have a talk about your attitude.

You sucked in a breath. This was new. Not once had he invited you to his office – you were there of your own volition often enough to challenge him about your marks. You wouldn’t be surprised if he put up a sign on his door barring you specifically from entering. You knew he hated your visits to his office, so why invite you now? Talks with your professor about your attitude were done in public, specifically to try and humiliate you. 

You folded up the note and slid it into your pocket, nervousness beginning to churn in your gut. Was he going to fail you out of spite? You’d be unable to complete your degree if he did that. While Fëanor was an arrogant asshole, you didn’t think he was cruel. Or at least you hoped so.

Tears began to well in your eyes as the possibility of failing dawned on you. Perhaps there were consequences to mouthing off to your professor after all. 

*******************

A few hours later, you knocked at the elaborate wooden door to Fëanor’s office, then wiped your face one last time. You had spent an hour in the bathroom attempting to fix your makeup and conceal the evidence of your tears and failing, miserably. Your mascara was wet, giving you more of a smokey eye look than you had intended. Your smudged face was a stark contrast with your perfectly put together outfit – a short brown pencil skirt and tall boots, paired with a tight fitting, slightly cropped t-shirt. You felt ridiculous now, going to your professor’s office like this, but you had no other choice.

“Come in. And close the door behind you.” His deep voice echoed from inside the office, and you pushed the heavy door open. His office was its usual organised mess, manuscripts and books everywhere, laid out across every sitting space available save for the single chair in front of his desk. The room glowed orange from the roaring fireplace off to the side, making it look more like an ancient cave than an office.

You carefully walked over to the chair in front of the desk, clasping your hands in front of you.

“Sit.” Fëanor ordered, finally glancing up at you when you hesitated. “Unless you prefer to kneel on the floor?”

Your face burned bright red as you scrambled into the chair, ignoring the way his insinuation made your thighs tingle with need. He ignored you for a few minutes, continuing whatever he was translating on his desk. You shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do. None of your interactions had ever been like this – quiet, suspenseful, behind closed doors. No, it was always bickering arguments that turned heads in the hallways. Something was different about him.

“Do you know why I really called you in here today?” He asked, still not looking up. His long hair was tied back, except for a few loose strands that hung around his face as he wrote.

“To fail me.” You said quietly.

He barked a heartless laugh. “Gods, no. Failing you would mean I’d have to endure a whole extra semester of your arrogant attitude. I refuse to put myself through that.”

You felt all nervousness fade away, quickly replaced by that hot anger only he seemed to be able to get out of you. “I’m arrogant?” You snapped. “Take a look in the mirror.”

Fëanor’s writing ceased, and his grey blue eyes met yours and narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard what I said.” You fired back, unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth. “You’re the arrogant one here, sir. You try to belittle me every time I prove myself to be smart because you can’t imagine that everyone around you isn’t a complete imbecile.”

You expected the male to snap back, to call you an idiot and ask how dare you say these things to him. Truthfully, you couldn’t believe you were saying these things either. All your arguments had been about the material so far, veiled insults hidden beneath your words. Never were you this open, this bold, about how you felt. 

“Anything else?” He said in a bored manner.

“Yeah, you’re a real prick.” You continued your angry rambling, sick of being looked down on by this male. “You know as well as I do that I’m your best student, yet you treat me like the problem kid at the back of the class. It’s ridiculous, and the only reason you do it is to feel better about yourself. Am I wrong, sir?”

A long pause followed, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. If you weren’t going to fail before, you definitely were now. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You simply sat there, eyes locked with your ill-tempered linguistics professor. After a few minutes, you couldn’t take it anymore, averting your gaze to inspect a loose thread on your skirt.

“Do you know why I’m such an arrogant… prick, did you say?” He stood up, walking around to the front of his desk and leaning against it, crossing his large arms. “Because I’ve earned it. I invented the Tengwar script and am the most knowledgeable person on the Quenya language there is. I have created and invented things that nobody else has, and nobody will ever come close to achieving what I have achieved. I have earned my arrogance, you have not. You’re just a little girl who’s in way over her head.”

You saw red, angrily pushing back the chair as you stood up to challenge him . Fëanor was a good foot taller than you, making you strain your neck to meet his gaze. “Call me a little girl one more time, I fucking dare you.” You hissed.

“Or what?” He smirked. “You’ll cry? Just like you did before you came in here?”

Your jaw went slack, “Wha–”

Fëanor scoffed, pleased with himself. “Oh, please, don’t even try. It was written all over your pretty face. I like it covered in tears, by the way. It’s a good look on you.”

WIthout thinking, your hand reached up and connected with his face, a dull slap echoing throughout the office. “Fuck you.” You spat, turning to storm out before you could face the consequences of hitting your professor.

But Fëanor was faster, his large hand firmly clasping around the hand you just slapped him with and yanking you back around to face him. His other hand grabbed your other wrist, and no matter how much you squirmed against it he didn’t budge. His eyes were dark as he pulled your hands up and across each other, pushing them into your chest as he stepped even closer to you. 

“You wish.” He purred mockingly. “Isn’t that right? Is that not one of the reasons why your attention drifts off in class? Because you’re fantasising about being bent over my desk and fucked until you can’t remember your own name?”

“You think way too highly of yourself–” You tried to defend yourself, but he cut you off as if you hadn’t even said anything.

“You think I’m blind? That I don’t notice how you always wear those revealing outfits on the days you have my class. Don’t play dumb, it’s not a good look on you.”

You thrashed in his grip, ignoring the effect his words had on you. “Let me go right now you self righteous, narcissistic–”

“Kneel.”

That made you freeze. “Excuse me?”

“You really need to learn how to shut up.” Feanor growled. “And that’s what I’m going to do. I’ve had enough of that mouth of yours, it’s time to make it useful for once. Now kneel.”

You were utterly dumbstruck, unable to do anything as your professor gave you a shove, making you fall to your knees on the ground in front of him. The wooden floor made your joints ache, but you knew better than to protest.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Fëanor began, the sound of his belt unbuckling distinct in the background. “Do you think you can follow simple instructions for once?”

“Yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, throat dry with anticipation for what was about to happen.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He paused his movements, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at his towering form. “I’m going to stuff that smart mouth of yours with my cock, and you’re going to take it like the desperate little slut I know you are. If you please me enough, I will bend you over this desk and fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow. And you’ll have learned your lesson to keep your mouth shut when I tell you to, understood? Is that simple enough for you to understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated, trying to keep the shake out of your voice. Your core throbbed at his words, exactly as dominant as you imagined him to be.

Fëanor finally unzipped his trousers, letting them fall to his feet along with his boxers, revealing the thickest cock you had ever seen. Your jaw dropped, but you didn’t even care that you had just boosted his ego. All you could think about was how it would possibly fit.

“What’s the matter?” He mocked. “Too big for you? Scared you won’t be able to take it? You’ll be able to take it because I’ve told you so. Now open.”

You parted your lips, letting your professor slide his cock between them. You sucked on the tip, earning a groan of pleasure from the male above. Forcing your jaw to relax, you took him deeper, aching with the stretch.

Without warning, Fëanor impatiently grabbed the back of your head and pushed you down further. Tears blotted your face as you gagged around him, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him. Clearly, he wasn’t concerned with having you come up for air, forcing you to breathe through your nose.

He set a rough pace, guiding your head up and down his cock as far as it would go without making you gag too much. Your mascara began to run down your face, and you made sure to keep eye contact with him despite the strain on your throat.

“There’s a good little slut,” Fëanor growled, tightening his grip on your hair as he thrusted faster. “I told you you looked better with tears running down your face.”

You couldn’t protest with his cock around your mouth, so you only whimpered, focusing on taking him deeper. You sucked hard with each stroke, letting your tongue run along the vein underneath his shaft as you bobbed your head. Your professor moaned shamelessly above you, a sound that set your nerves alight.

Mindlessly, your hand wandered between your legs, attempting to relieve some of the pressure building there. Your fingers hadn’t even grazed your panties when Fëanor halted his movements, holding your head down at the base of his cock. 

“Don’t even think of touching yourself.” He hissed angrily. “I didn’t give you permission to do so. Try it again, and I won’t let you cum. Got it?”

You nodded around the base of his cock, whimpering. Your jaw was in agony, stretched to the max to accommodate his length. When he finally moved your head once again, you doubled your efforts, determined to make your arrogant professor fall apart. You sat on your hands for good measure, trying to avoid the temptation to ignore his orders altogether.

Fëanor began thrusting his hips to meet your mouth a few minutes later, his pretty eyes screwing shut as he tilted his head back. “Fucking swallow every last drop.” He grunted between thrusts, his grip on your scalp tightening right before his cock twitched in your mouth. He came with a loud groan, shooting spurts of warm liquid down your throat. You kept bobbing your head, sucking up every last drop and letting it slide down your throat. He panted, hips sputtering as you sucked him dry before finally pulling your lips off him. Your jaw ached like never before, but you were strangely proud of yourself. The image of your high strung professor climaxing into your mouth would be forever burned into your mind.

“Looks like you’ve earned your reward after all.” Fëanor grabbed you by your shoulders and hoisted you up onto his desk with impressive strength. You didn’t have time to ask if you should move the papers on his desk before his mouth crashed into yours. His lips were hot and dominating, overwhelming your senses. You barely had time to kiss him back before he was pulling away, attaching his lips to your neck and biting down, making you cry out. He sucked and bit every inch of your throat in a manner you knew would leave dark bruises the next day, undoubtedly an intentional choice on his part.

You felt your shirt being yanked up, Fëanor quickly pulling it over your head along and ripping your bra off then tossing both items somewhere behind him. His calloused hands eagerly grabbed your breasts, squeezing hard. You squirmed under his touch, wanting to get away from the harshness of it but also needing more somehow. Fëanor’s mouth assaulted your breasts, biting the soft flesh firmly before taking your nipple in his teeth and flicking the bud with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck.” You couldn’t help but moan, tilting your head back.

“You like this?” Fëanor teased, lifting his mouth from your breast momentarily before hovering over the other one. “You like it when I’m rough, treating you like a dirty little whore? Leaving marks all over your body so you know that you’re my property, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!” You cried out as he sucked at your other breast. It was overwhelming, his hands were everywhere except where you needed them most.

As if he read your mind, Fëanor pulled away, ripping his shirt over his head to reveal the most sculpted abs you’d ever seen. The bastard stood there for a moment, proudly watching you admire his form. Gods above, you’d never be able to focus in class again after seeing his muscles.

He reached down and roughly tugged your skirt and panties down, exposing your glistening cunt. Fëanor plunged a finger into you without warning, pressing a thumb to your clit and making you see stars. His mouth found your neck again as you squirmed under his touch, a hand reaching around your back and pressing you into his frame.

“You’re a fucking mess,” He growled into your neck, adding in a second finger and stretching your hole. “All for me, isn’t that right? I’m going to break you, my dear. Break you into a thousand pieces and put you back together so I can do it all over again and make you mine.”

You whined, feeling your muscles clench around him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You were approaching your orgasm faster than you ever had in your life. “I’m close…” You mumbled through shallow breaths, legs beginning to twitch.

He smirked. “I know.” Was all he said before roughly pulling his fingers away, right before you could make the final stretch towards the edge.

“What the hell!” You exclaimed, angry. Before you could cuss him out, his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

“What did I tell you about keeping that pretty mouth shut?” Fëanor growled. “I would threaten to stuff it with my cock again, but you’d probably enjoy that too much. Guess I’m just going to have to fuck you so hard you scream and lose your voice.”

He roughly turned you around, pushing you by your neck so you were stomach first down on the desk with your feet still on the floor. You breathed heavily, grasping the edge with your fingertips as Fëanor lined his cock up to your entrance. You forced your body to relax, knowing it was going to hurt at first.

His hands found your hips and he slammed into you, almost knocking the wind right out of your lungs. You barely had time to catch your breath and acknowledge the stinging stretch between your legs before he pulled out and did it again, setting a brutal pace. You began to scream, fully screaming in pleasure and pain as Fëanor pounded into you relentlessly. You couldn’t even think straight, all logical thoughts about there possibly being people in the hallway that could hear you as you cried out over and over again.

Fëanor’s grip on your hips was almost bone shattering, his thick cock slamming into your g-spot faster than anyone had ever fucked you. He was right, your entire body would be sore tomorrow. In fact, you’d be lucky if you were able to walk to class. Fëanor’s thrusts were so powerful, you were sure he was going to split you in half.

And you fucking loved it.

You loved being bent over your professor’s desk, unable to think about anything else aside from how hard he was fucking you. The male you had had verbal sparring matches with for weeks was taking his frustration out on you, and you loved it. You enjoyed being at his mercy, feeling things nobody else had been able to make you feel.

Fëanor grunted, reaching one hand down and rubbing your clit. “You cum when I say you cum, got it?”

You nodded, whimpering as you felt your body try and pick up where it left off. You begged it to keep your orgasm at bay, knowing Fëanor would be less than happy if you came without his permission. So you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to think about anything else.

He thrusted into you for what seemed like hours, to the point where your legs had gone almost numb. You were a sobbing mess, fighting to stop yourself from climaxing all over his cock. The papers on his desk were stained with your tears, and your determination to not beg him for anything snapped.

“Please let me cum.” You sobbed pathetically.

Fëanor only increased his pace on your clit, smirking as he pounded you. “Aw, are you crying again? Poor little thing is so desperate to cum for daddy, isn’t she?”

Daddy. Your brain went haywire. Normally, you were not into the whole daddy kink, but the way Fëanor said it changed something in you. You whined, nodding. At this point, you’d say whatever to get him to let you cum. “Please, daddy, I need to cum,” You cried, body shaking. “I’ll do anything you want, please just let me finish.”

Fëanor groaned behind you, his cock twitching inside of you, evidence of his pleasure with your response. “That was pathetic,” He grunted. “But I’ll let it slide. Cum for me, slut. Cum now.”

Your body let go before he finished his sentence, the dam that had been holding your orgasm back bursting, letting the climax wash over your body. You cried out, voice breaking with hoarseness as your legs twitched violently, your grip on the desk and Fëanor’s hand on your hip being the only thing keeping you from sliding onto the floor.

The world spun around you, and at one point you were pretty sure you lost consciousness. As you came down from your high, Fëanor moaned loudly, pulling out and stroking his cock while jutting his hips forward. Thick spurts of cum landed on your back mixing with the sheen of sweat already there. His loud groan echoed throughout the office as you panted, your entire body feeling both completely wrecked and on cloud nine at the same time.

You tried to speak, but no words came out. Your vocal cords were shot, jaw aching with every movement. You didn’t even hear Fëanor retreat, but he returned with a towel, gently wiping the seed off your skin. You wanted to thank him, but couldn’t. In fact, you weren’t sure if you could even move. 

Fëanor chuckled, bundling up your clothes and setting them beside you. He placed a glass of water to your lips, tilting it back and letting you eagerly drink it up. “You’re excused from Thursday’s lesson,” He said smugly. “Only because I know you won’t be able to get out of bed to get to class. Let this be your lesson learned not to question me, or call me an arrogant prick. Got it?”

You nodded weakly, defenceless, and knowing your linguistics class with Dr. Fëanor would never be the same.

[jake-g-lockley]

hi there! I'd love to request prompt 4 and/or 7 with Frankie Morales, please, I would actually start screaming, hope you're having a lovely day <3

Chocolate Eyes (Frankie Morales x reader) Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be tagged?

Prompts: The hand behind their nape when they’re embarrassed, Almost kissing but someone walks in 0_0 A/N: Hi there!! Thanks for the ask <3! I hope you’re having a lovely day too. Frankie fluff is like a drug to me, so I hope you like this hehe Word Count: 1.6k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your best friend waddled around the room, looking for a dress that she had been begging you to try on. She moved particularly quickly for someone so heavily pregnant and it made you very anxious.

“Slow down Jess, you’re going to push that baby out of you.” you chastised her with a small chuckle.

Jessica yanks the white and blue sundress from her closet with a “Tada!”. You stare at it, wondering whether you could look even remotely pretty from something so beautiful. It had a low neckline, puffy sleeves and screamed summer but you shook your head, feeling that you could not pull it off.

“Oh come on, honey, you’ll look great. Trust me, you’ll definitely turn some heads.” she said, kissing your forehead and wiggling her eyebrows.

You rolled her eyes at her comment. She didn’t mean “some heads”, she was talking about one specific head that you’d pick out of the 7.8 billion heads on the planet. It had been a few years since you saw him, with you going to university. You had given up on him after he didn’t show up to Jessica’s wedding to William Miller, willing yourself to forget about him.

But here you are, a small sad frog playing on your broken heartstrings, trying to piece back together the feelings that you had for Frankie Morales. You missed his curly brown hair that was hidden under his cap and his beautiful smile that was accentuated by a perfect little dimple on his right cheek. You missed his eyes, the beautiful eyes that were the colour of freshly melted chocolate and were full of so much kindness.

You gave Jessica a small smile as she rubbed your shoulder sympathetically.

“Look, this is your chance to get to know all of the cute young bachelors that are going to be at the baby shower. I’m not letting you go without dolling you up. After all, this can just be my practice round before this little princess grows up.” she says, rubbing her tummy.

“Fine, as long as you don’t make me look like a clown.”

“Aye, aye, captain!”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Jessica kept her word and you gasped at your reflection when she turned the makeup chair around. Soft makeup adorned your face, accentuating your features and your hair fell around your head in magnificent curls. A jewelled headband adorned your head and the dress fit perfectly. You gave Jessica a big hug before holding her hand and leading her downstairs for her baby shower that you had been preparing for all day. At the bottom of the stairs you were met with Santiago who gave you the biggest smile and hugged you tightly.

“¡Ay, chica! When did you take your nose out from your books and decided to visit us?” He chuckled as you pout and punched him playfully in the stomach.

“Oh I’d save that punch for someone else if I were you, if you know what I mean.” he said almost immediately and you frowned further, administering another punch, making him groan. “Leave her alone Pope, how’ve you been, sweetheart.” Benny pulled you out of Santiago’s arms and into his, making you squeal.

“All good, Benny, still being a menace?” you smile sweetly up at the 6 feet tall man.

“As always.” he replied with a small smile playing on his lips.

You couldn’t help but look around for Frankie, your eyes searching hopefully willing for them to meet his sweet brown ones, but to no avail. You sigh and help Jessica to her seat, when the front door opens and the atmosphere of the room changes. Your heart stilled the moment Frankie waltzed through the door, every cell in your body screaming for oxygen as you conveniently forgot how to breathe.

He looked different, a little older with a few grey hairs decorating his crown of brown curls. He had ditched his usual hat and casual shirts for a more formal button down and slacks. The crows feet were more prominent at his eyes when he grinned, but they framed the same beautiful eyes that you had been looking for all these years.

He stopped in his tracks when he looked at you but he didn’t look surprised at your presence, but more of your appearance. He took a second to look you up and down and you blushed, a smile creeping up your face as Jessica tapped your hand. William shoved Frankie’s shoulder with his, nudging him forward. It was then when you noticed he was holding two bouquets.

He knelt down in front of Jessica and kissed her forehead, handing her a bouquet of beautiful pink roses which she cooed at. He then slowly stood up and turned to you, his eyes big and wide as he took in your appearance from up close. You wanted to scream at him, hit him and walk away but you were held captive by his matured beauty. His hand found yours and he brought it up to his lips, kissing it gently, sending an array of butterflies to attack your insides.

“Hi.” he whispered and you didn’t realise how much you missed the sound of his voice.

“Hi.” you said back as you clutched the hand that he kissed close to your heart.

He handed you a bouquet of blue dyed Gardenias and you took a second to glare down at Jessica who was busy sipping on her juice and grinning at her husband.

“They’re beautiful, Francisco, thanks.” you whispered and he raised a hand to the nape of his neck and blushed.

You couldn’t help but grin at his bashfulness, letting him stir you aside as guests started to pile into the house with gifts and well wishes for Jessica. He plucked a flower from your bouquet and tucked it behind your ear, letting his hand slide down to graze your jaw and tip your chin up to meet his eyes.

“You look heavenly.” he breathed.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” you say, feeling yourself get dizzy from all of the attention he was giving you.

Your sweet dream was broken when Santiago yelled, “Catfish, you simp, come here we gotta toast!”

You rolled your eyes at your boys and smiled down at the beautiful bouquet, your heart feeling content for the first time in a long time.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You busied yourself with carrying the gifts up to the nursery, arranging them in piles so that the Millers could have a proper look at them once the party was over. A soft knock sounded at the door and before you could say anything, Frankie opened the door and slipped inside. You smiled at him and he carefully approached you, sitting cross legged beside you.

“Sorting the gifts, huh? Anything good in here?” his first full sentence to you in years made you look up from your work instantly.

“Other than burp clothes and tons of nappies, nothing that we could use.” you chuckled.

Frankie reached out and grabbed a big teddy bear, observing its face before hugging it close to his chest. The action made your heart yearn bad and you stifled a smile as you watched him snuggle his nose into the bear’s head.

“How’ve you been, miel?” he asked, tilting his head so that his eyes met yours again.

“Could have been better, you?”

“About the same as you.” he replied, sighing into the teddy.

“Feels like I’m missing something.” you decided to casually take a leap.

“Me too, miel.”

Frankie straightened his back and scooted closer to you, the smell of his cologne enveloping you in sweet memories. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows, almost as if you were pleading with him to do something about the gap that was between the both of you. Slowly, he got closer and closer, until you could count every single one of his eyelashes that framed his eyes perfectly.

If you tipped your head slightly to the right, your lips would have been on his and you would have felt complete but the door swings open for a second time, causing the both of you to jump away from each other. Benny Miller stood there holding a bottle of wine in one hand and his tie in the other and you mentally cursed him for his perfect timing. His eyes were wide as saucers as he noted the way your hand magically clutched onto Frankie’s thigh.

“Andddd that's another moment ruined by Benjamin Miller. You’re welcome folks.” he said, giving you both a two fingered salute and scurrying away before Frankie could come to his senses and beat the living daylights out of his best friend.

You found yourself giggling, remembering the other moment ruined by Benny that included his brother and your best friend attempting to get some alone time together.

“Oh that bastard, I’m going to kill-” Frankie attempted to stand up but you pulled him down, tired of waiting any longer.

“Shut up, Frankie.” You breathed before letting yourself fall onto the carpet and pulling Frankie down with you, causing his lips to come crashing down against yours with a shocked groan getting caught in his throat. He immediately took hold of the reins and kissed you back, years of tension easing from the way his lips moved against yours in a slow dance.

He pulled away only when he started to suffocate, refusing to leave the safe sanctuary of your soft breaths against your face. He kissed your forehead, nose and cheeks before lying down beside you and staring at the impressive mural that William had painted on the ceiling of the nursery. He laced his fingers with yours and kissed the back of your hand again, before clutching it close to his heart as his breathing slowed.

“We should do that more often.” you whisper into the air.

“We really should.” he whispered back, a smile gracing his face. 

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~~~

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Otacon x Reader

Warning

Highly cursed at the halfway point. Spoilers for End of Evangelion and I wouldn't recommend that sane people watch it just to try to understand what the hell is going on. Yes there are parts where people turn into orange liquid followed by screams and upbeat happy music about suicide. Also do not look up the hospital scene for this movie (which it is infamous for). You have been warned.

_______________________________________

Otacon

Your smash main is Snake, you're a weeb or you fall in love easily and are used to being hurt by others.

First Date:

None. This man is busy raising a child with Snake.

Second Try:

The two of you meet on a fan board and quickly exchange numbers. Soon he invites you over to his house for a date. You asked where he lived but he said he would prefer to pick you up. You wait outside until you feel what seems to be an earthquake. You go to run but then you look into the sky. "IS THAT A GIANT ROBOT!" The "vehicle" pulls up and sure enough, Otacon is waiting for you. "Good evening. You look wonderful..." He then handed you a bouquet of flowers and you came inside.

Man, he really was an otaku. His home consisted of a bedroom that was really more like a storage space, a bathroom and a kitchen. "Make yourself comfortable, I'm going to bring some refreshments." You looked around for a spot to sit down, his room being like that one photo of Yoshihiro Togashi but notably much cleaner. The walls were stacked from the floor to the ceiling. You would have to tell your date that piracy was also an option. Most of it was just anime so you knew better than to touch it.

There was a small CRT and just about every console you could think of. Even the bad ones.At the far end of the room was a computer. You didn't really understand how that stuff worked but you figured his setup must be very expensive since all you had was Windows 95. You saw a purple creature on the desktop. "What's a bonzi buddy?

"You then noticed that Hal had come back. "I brought you a bento and some pocky. Only the best for my little waifu." He then blushed and turned the television off. "Sorry. I forgot that I was playing Policenauts on my Saturn earlier.."He then asked Alexa to play his spotify playlist which consisted of nothing but Hatsune Miku.

After you were finished eating, he took you by the hand. "Allow you to show you my prized collection." He brought you to his glass stand filled with various figures. It had a little bit of everything. Transformers, all the Gundams, some Code Geass. Even this weird one he called Zone of the Enders? "Yeah, I'm a huge fan!" He then looked around to see if the almighty Mr. Kojima was watching."

But this... This is my favorite." It was a giant build of EVA 01. "I never knew you liked Evangelion..." He then pulled out a copy of End of Evangelion. "Would you like to watch it with me? I have the renewal edition..." You gazed into his eyes and kissed him. "Wow..." He then turned on his hello kitty DVD player and inserted the disc.

The two of you started frenching during the komm susser tod sequence. You began to stroke him while the lyrics "It all returns to nothing" played. "Looks like someone's snake is solid..." He then thought to himself while the screams of those being turned into orange juice could be heard. "It's just like one of my Japanese amines!" You gave one final pull, yelling "It all CUMS TUMBLING DOWN, TUMBLING DOWN, TUMBLING DOWN"

________

Having finished, Hal shut off his VR machine. Ever since David had left him to go on a date with a woman, he hadn't felt the same. He thought back to when he asked him if love could bloom on the battlefield and then started to sob into his arm. "WHY DOES EVERYONE I LOVE LEAVE ME!?" Little did Snake know but Otacon had created a program where he could be with him in a dating sim. He would later sell it on steam and become as rich as Snake did from the fortnite cameo, bringing him into the spotlight. They would later get back together and become the ultimate power couple.

[bubblessunshinehoney]

I have a request if you don't mind. Steve Rogers constantly telling everyone to not pick favourites amongst avengers recruits but then the reader comes around. They get close to each other and eventually start dating and he very much realizes he's glad he did pick a favorite after all

Rule n1: no favourite allowed

A/N: Hey there, I'm so sorry I took so long to write this request. But between some mental health issues and physical health issues, the past months have been hard on me. I'm getting through it slowly but surely and finding my muse back. I hope you will like it!

TW: none, just fluff. Written on my phone. No beta read, English is not my first language, all mistakes are my own.

Don't be shy: reblog, comment and like !

Love,

Cloudy !

Dividers : @firefly-graphics

Steve was very clear about it: "no favourite allowed. They are recruits, agents, they are all equal".

Everything was going well, everyone was following this number one rule, even though, Sam, Nat or even Bucky had some preferences with the recruits. Then you came, and it was clear, everybody loved you.

You became quickly friends with Nat and Wanda, Sam loved to bicker with you and you could even make Bucky snort a laugh. And there was Steve, he tried to keep his distance, try to be professional.

Yes you were an amazing recruit, you will become their new best agent and of course, you got along with everybody so it was a big plus.

But Steve didn't understand what was happening in his head and his heart. You were sweet, you listened to him, carefully, following his orders, doing your best and being the best. He was proud of you, he appreciated seeing you get better to hand to hand combat, and he loved to see you get along with his friends and his family. You started to come around more in the compound and participated in every evening: movies, games, pizza nights...

He missed you when you had to go on missions without him. He didn't sleep well at night, waiting to have news about the team, about you.

On your side, you liked Steve. A lot. A all lot. He wasn't like other guys you've met. He was polite, a true gentleman...a good friend and a good mentor. You felt safe with him, you knew he would be there if you needed him, like all of the Avengers.

It was nice to have found true friends.

You knew about his number one rule and you lived to see him struggle to keep it at bay for you. You wanted him and you knew...he had a crush on you... especially after one mission where you've been hurt. You had to spend one week at the medical bay, and Steve came every day to see you, for 4 hours. Every day he came with flowers and something to eat, he gifted you some books too, knowing you loved to read, he gave you a Spotify playlist, with all his favourite music. He was blushing hard for this one, feeling like a teenager and stupid. You loved every single attention and your crush for the captain was even bigger.

"Steve...forget about this rule, it's stupid.", declared Bucky. " You're clearly falling in love with her and she likes you too. Stop being the captain for a minute and be just Steve. You deserve it."

The Captain sighed, heavily. He knew his best friend was right. He couldn't deny it anymore, you had stolen his heart in the best way, made him feel more alive than he had ever felt.

You came to the game night, like always with some pastries made by you. When you arrived, nobody was there...except for Steve, who was dressed casually but nicely, his hair was trimmed.

"Hey Cappy!", you cheered. He smiled at you.

"Hey, sweetie ", you blinked at the nickname. Never in you're 2 years working with him, he has ever given you a nickname. You loved it. You smiled and gave him the box full of pastries.

" I baked cinnamon rolls, your favourite."

He took the box from you and kissed your cheek. "My favourite", he whispered, making you shiver.

You smiled up at him and he smiled back, his eyes full of love and you blushed.

"So...its just the two of us?", you asked.

Steve smiled wider and nodded slowly. "If you want it to be just us, yes. I would love to have a date night with you."

"And what about your number one rule, captain?".

"You have the answer in your question. I'm the captain, I make the rules".

You laughed and patted his cheek, then stroked it with your thumb, making him lean into your touch. You couldn't realise that it was true. That he finally caved and accepted that...the attirance was mutual.

You got on your tiptoes, his eyes following you and you slowly pressed your lips against his. Steve kissed you back, tenderly, holding the small of your back. You felt sparkles in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, passing your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Steve held you close to him, putting the box on the table, to hug you close.

"It's not always too bad to pick up a favourite", he mumbled against your lips, making you giggle.

"Damn right, stevie".

He kissed you hard, and you gasped, holding him tight.

"Damn right, sweetie.", he answered, before kissing your nose. "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

You smiled, your Steve, always the gentleman. " I would love to be your girlfriend, boyfriend."

The end !

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 6/7 - First / Previous / Next

Day 6: Sleep/Nap + Psychometry Track: 'Touch' - Sleeping At Last (Spotify / YouTube)

This time it was Quinlan’s own racing heart that woke him. 

His dreams had been filled with blaster fire, flashes of his parents blending into recognized red armor. The screams of his Mother echoed around him as he picked up the broken helmet, saw his own reflection in the visor, his eyes burning yellow- 

The screams became his own. 

He heaved in air, awareness spreading out with the Force into the dim room in search of the threat. He had tried to sit up, felt pain flare in his abdomen and caused him to stall halfway, curling to lean on his uninsured right side. 

“-nlan, focus on me. I know you recognize my voice you joke about it being familiar all the time-“

“Fox?”

He hadn’t even noticed Fox come in, or maybe he had been in the bunk next to him? He hadn’t sensed him in his panic though he had been searching for threats, which Fox definitely wasn’t. If anything Quinlan latched his focus on Fox now and felt only safety, a comfort in the strength of another. 

“I’d say who else could I be but I guess there are at least a couple thousand possibilities,” Fox’s voice became sharper again, falling back on familiar humor at the sign that Quinlan was successfully anchoring himself. 

Another few breaths and Quinlan managed to croak out “Lucky guess then.”

Fox snorted, standing from where he had been kneeling in front of Quinlan. Slowly he reached out, hands barely brushing Quinlan’s shoulder in a clear direction for the Jedi to lay back down, which he did with a soft groan. 

“You should drink something,” the clone Commander pointed out. “Can probably eat now too if-“

“My mother. It was about my Mother.”

Fox pulled up short, half a step from turning away to grab the mentioned water and food. It was the middle of a sleep cycle, so he hadn’t been far when Quinlan’s choked scream woke him, but now he felt almost disconnected as Quinlan opened up in a very rare moment. 

A moment he was sharing, though quietly, as if Fox would push it off- no. As if Quinlan was giving Fox the option to push it off, that he didn’t need to stay and listen. 

But Fox had always listened before, even to things he definitely knew were ridiculous from the man before him. Why do anything different now?

At least, that was the reasoning Fox used as he returned to his spot from earlier, sitting and eyes tracking over Quinlan to check no bandages had come undone in the panic. 

“Your… Mother?”

Quinlan’s head gave the shortest nod but hadn’t managed to look to Fox yet. “She was… murdered. Both of my parents were, sacrificed by my great aunt to Anzati. I was four. They gave me her medallion, the one she wears in every memory I have. And-“

At this, his eyes closed, and Fox watched the signs of Quinlan slowing to find a semblance of control and balance, something honestly quite rare for the straightforward man to do. 

“And they gave it to me knowing full well I was what they described as ‘the best example of psychometry they’d ever seen’. I held the medallion and I relived their deaths like they were my own until Master Tholme found me.”

Fox blinked. He didn’t know truly what to do with any of that information. Surely he couldn’t change the past and had no similar experience of even having a parent to begin with. This wasn’t something he could fight physically or even parse out verbally. But before he could grow any more uncertain with the want to help but no path to understanding how, Quinlan continued with all the calm he shouldn’t have if Fox was to believe he was okay. 

“Sorry if that is a lot. You asked about her and it’s only an explanation of why I panicked. It was long ago, and I deal with it as best I can. I’m telling you not because I think you change anything about it Fox, but just cause you asked,” dark features finally pulled away from the ceiling to land on Fox. “All you had to do was listen, which you did. So, thank you.”

Fox didn’t feel like he should be thanked. Like he hadn’t done anything to actually help, though Quinlan always made it clear that Fox didn’t ever owe him anything. Thus he found himself nodding, agreeing as best he could in the heavy silence. 

Fox could be snippy, strong-headed, and fiercely loyal, pointed himself in a direction and slipped and fought his way to the end with everything he had. And though Quinlan told him thank you, Fox decided he could definitely do more than just sit here looking dumb to receive it. 

He didn’t owe it to Quinlan, he wanted it for himself. 

He reached out, fast before he could rethink it, and took Quinlan’s hand in his own. The Jedi didn’t even flinch, simply gave a short inhale and let his eyes flutter close. Fox had no idea how anything Jedi truly worked, but Quinlan had explained his need for gloves and how his psychometry worked before. Recalling that, he had wondered if Quinlan was strong enough to pick up memories or imagery, and decided he at least wanted to try. A chance to help Quinlan in some way even if it wasn’t with a blaster or armor. 

Face scrunching up slightly in concentration and a thought of how insane this all truly sounded if he thought too long, he pictured Dex’s. He thought about how it had been one of the first places Quinlan ever convinced Fox to eat at. He even recalled some of that meeting, how excited Dex had been, how the food quickly become something Fox loved, and then how it ended with Fox dangling off a speeder while Quinlan attempted to help him and also steer with the Force. 

He really did collect the insane one this time didn’t he? Maybe even give Rex a run for his money in the crazy General department.   

Quinlan suddenly laughed, choked but a laugh nonetheless. So perhaps it wasn’t that insane to think that even without being able to use the Force, Quinlan could reach out and find Fox instead. Like he always seemed able to do.

“Cody is the one with the crazy General,” Quinlan murmured. “But thanks for the nomination.”

Fox thought of some of the stories Cody had told him and snorted softly as Quinlan laughed again.

“I- I can’t tell what you are thinking exactly, it is more an impression and imagery thing, and people are always complicated. But you definitely have no contradictions in the feelings of ‘you’re crazy’.”

Fox rolled his eyes, though at least he hadn’t thought of anything too embarrassing or made a mockery of holding Quinlan’s hand for no reason. “It’s because it isn’t complicated, just a fact. You are crazy.”

“Crazy about you.”

It had been said teasingly, familiar in Quinlan’s antics of flirting playfully with Fox, in which the commander would normally quip back at him. But after everything, Fox being confronted with how much hearing Quinlan say goodbye hurt, how his heart plummeted when Quinlan had collapsed so lifelessly in his arms, how every step carrying him back made him fear he may never again hear those flirting comments again, and thus never feel the resulting small flutters of hope that they could be true; after all of it, he finally put a few thoughts to his feelings. A few realizations that his priorities and wants may have shifted without him ever really noticing. Like the shadow he was, Quinlan had slipped in close and before Fox knew it he found he didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again.

In a blink, he decided he wanted Quinlan to stay with him.

“Fox?” 

And in another blink, he realized his mistake.

“Sorry, I-” he pulled his hand back, every intention of moving away, under the guise of getting Quinlan or drink or maybe even an excuse to check the ship again. But he had barely let go before Quinlan’s own hand wrapped around his, anchoring the clone in place.

“No, Fox, it’s okay. You don’t have to leave,” Quinlan’s voice was low, raw in a way Fox had never heard before. “I want to stay, want you to stay, if you do too.”

Quiet. Neither of them was known for being quiet, especially not when they were together. But now it filled the small room, cushioned them both in silence that spoke louder than any words. Shifted to still and watched as they both took soft breaths.

Fox moved first.

Slowly he slid towards Quinlan, who moved the blanket back like he had been expecting it. And maybe he had with whatever Jedi nonsense Fox still scrunched his nose up about, but what was important is actually how his own stomach flipped over itself as he was now on his side, one arm naturally stretching out along the bed which Quinlan quickly accommodated, laying still on his back to not agitate his injuries.

Again they stilled, Fox’s eyes drifting over the dreadlocks splayed out across the small bit of pillow between them. Now he was close enough to pick apart the smallest scar almost hidden by Quinlan’s eyebrow, how those yellow tattoos complemented the deep color of his skin, a complexion even darker than Fox’s. 

“Don’t forget to breathe, Commander.”

A joke, one that shocked a scoff out of Fox as he tried not to show how he began to consciously breathe again. “And don’t you dare irritate your wounds. I spent way too long patching them up for you to aggravate them again.”

Quinlan’s eyes had shut and left Fox the illusion of privacy even as he could watch the rise and fall of Quinlan’s bare chest. The hand that had come to rest between them looked wrong now that it was empty, and there was still that little space between them.

Fox shifted closer, fingers drifting over the back of Quinlan’s hand. The Kiffar man hummed quietly, shifted his hand above Fox’s and moved closer as well. Naturally, they tucked close together, and Fox found his nose pressed to soft locks and Quinlan's head turned slightly to ghost breath across the low hollow of Fox’s throat.

“So, you really carried me all the way back?”

Fox steadied himself in the note of humor, even if Quinlan’s own voice still had those unsure feelings hidden in it. It didn’t phase Fox, especially because of how his own emotions were still as confusing as ever and thus he focused on that familiar banter.

“Yeah, dragged your self-sacrificing Jedi ass back here and I still haven’t heard a thank you.”

“Awe, would my clone in shining armor like a kiss for his efforts?”

Fox rolled his eyes and sank a bit closer. “I think the painkillers are still affecting you, you sound delusional.”

“Not at all, Fox,” Quinlan hummed. “So much not that I may actually pass out from the pain.”

Fox tried to hide his smile. “Can’t be that bad if you didn’t say anything, di’kut.”

“You would’ve gotten up, and I didn’t want you too.” Quinlan's eyes opened lazily to glance towards their entwined fingers, smile small but bright. “Not a chance Foxie, not for anything.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“All for you Fox. A true menace or you wouldn’t like me.”

Fox felt the other man sag against him. His voice had slurred, being awake finally becoming too exhausting for him. And Fox selfishly accepted the moment, relished in the touch of someone he found he trusted explicitly for the rare seconds he would have it.

Only to realize… he didn’t have to steal the moment. Vos had gifted it to him. Was giving him the chance, the choice, the option. Told him exactly what he wanted, and gave the Fox the moment to back out or get up and leave. To keep the distance they had carefully crafted with their quips and side missions and drunk sabacc games. 

Quinlan’s thumb brushed over the back of Fox’s hand.

Fox stayed.

[whatsnewalycat]

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 26: This Must be the Place

Word Count: 4.5k+

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: swearing, pregnancy, fluff fluff fluff, love notes, smut, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, unprotected PIV sex, gave javi some gray sweatpants bc he deserves it and so do we

Chapter Summary: Our heroes spend the morning together.

Notes: Chapter title from "This Must be the Place" by Talking Heads. This is the last chapter!! Holy shit! I'm putting this out earlier than anticipated because I'm getting antsy about it and I really like it as is. Seriously I'm going to go cry now, because I'm feeling sad and proud and excited all at once. I'll *probably* write more with these two in the future, though. That sounds fun. If you liked it let me know, pleaaaase, I'm a whiney baby that loves reassurance!! OK THANK YOU SO MUCH!

[ Masterlist for Series ] [ Taglist ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

Peña Ranch, Laredo, TX  November 29, 1998

Your eyes blink open to late morning light pouring onto the bed. As they attempt to adjust from the darkness of sleep, you clamp them shut, rolling over to throw your arm across Javier. 

Except, he’s not there. Your arm flops onto something crinkly instead. One eye cracks open and finds a pile of papers folded in half where your boyfriend usually is. Their ragged edges are intact, proof that they were yanked out from the spine of a spiral notebook. 

You pick up the bundle and blink both eyes open. 

“READ ME” is scrawled on the top fold in Javi’s messy script. You take a deep morning yawn and wriggle upright, propping yourself up on a stack of pillows. The comforting scent of brewing coffee wafts into the bedroom. Javi is humming along to the radio in the kitchen. Pans clatter and cupboards slam by his hand as you unfold the stack of papers and start reading. 

—

December 5, 1993 

I can’t stop thinking about you. How are you even doing this to me? 

Yesterday I went to your apartment building. Your bedroom lights were on and the blinds were closed. I sat outside for an hour, knowing you were there, unable to bring myself to do anything about it. 

Even if I could have gathered the courage to knock on the door, what would I have said to you? 

I like the feel of your hand in mine. I like your laugh. You’re beautiful. Do you want to go on a date with me? 

Those words shouldn’t make a man like me nervous, but they do. So nervous that I left San Antonio without letting them leave my mouth. 

—

December 1, 1994 

It’s been a year since I kissed you. 

I had to leave. I’m sorry. Duty calls. 

Maybe we’ll meet again. Sometimes I hope we don’t. It’s for the best. You’ll find someone better. 

—

June 4, 1998

I can’t tell you this. So I’m writing to you. I know you’re engaged, and you’re happy with Dan fucking Baker. Even though it makes no sense to me. 

But I’ll be damned. Every time I look at you I remember exactly what you felt like. What you taste like. I crave your lips on mine again.  

—

June 13, 1998

When I’m with you, we’re opposite poles in magnets resisting the inevitable. The pull is so strong, I ache. You feel it, too. I can tell. 

Your lips, your touch, the perfect way I fit inside you. I can never unlearn these things. I’ve tried. They’re etched in my bones. It’s fundamental, as central to my being as breathing. 

I long for you, love. It’s torture. 

— 

June 25, 1998

I am in love with you. 

So, here I am, writing to you, imagining I had the guts to say it. 

This is absolute fucking madness, cariño. But I woke up next to you and saw you there and I knew. 

— 

July 30, 1998 

I don’t know where you are, but I saw you. I can feel you. I don’t know how I know, but I know. You’re scared. I’m scared, too. I’ve never been so terrified to lose someone. 

When I lost my mom, I didn’t get to be scared. One moment she was on her way back from the grocery store, and the next she was gone. In an instant, the sun in our lives burnt out. 

You would have loved her. Everyone did, she was just that kind of person. She had a wit about her. Lit up any room she walked into, but nobody fucked with her.

She loved deer because of their polarity and intuition. They’re gentle, fierce, cautious, adventurous. They shed and regrow their antlers. She said they’re symbolic of duality, listening to your gut feelings, renewal and growth. She would have loved you, too. 

There are so many things I want to tell you. I should have listened to you. I didn’t let you come with me. You trusted me to protect you, and I didn’t. I’m so sorry. 

I promise I will find you. I love you and miss you so much, cariño. Please hold on a little bit longer. 

Tell baby Peña I say hello and that I love them, too.

— 

August 1, 1998 

I’m watching you as you sleep in our bed. You’re battered, bruised, stitched together… but you and the baby are ok. It’s a fucking miracle, cariño, I swear. 

I introduced myself to your parents in the hospital waiting room last night. Your dad looked at my extended hand like there was shit smeared on it. They’re right to not want anything to do with me right now. 

It’s a good thing their approval means approximately jack shit to you. Because I am never letting you go. 

— 

November 29, 1998

Today’s the day I give you the letters I never thought I would, so I can show you how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you. 

Come out to the kitchen, baby. 

— 

You sniffle and rub the tears out of your eyes and set the unfolded stack of love letters down on the black duvet, then scoot to the edge of the bed. The floor is cool on the soles of your feet, one then the other. Javi starts singing “I Just Want to Dance With You” by George Strait. Your heart swells with love. You grab your fuchsia robe from the back of the desk chair and tie it around your body as you emerge from the bedroom and follow his voice. 

He’s leaning on the kitchen island over a newspaper crossword puzzle, one hand holding a pen as the other slides his wire framed glasses up the bridge of his nose, singing, “I caught you lookin' at me when I looked at you; Yes, I did, ain't that true? You won't get embarrassed by the things I do; I just wanna dance with you…”

You greet him with a giddy smile, padding across the floor towards him, “Good morning.”

A smile stretches across his handsome face when he peers up at you from the newspaper, “Good morning, beautiful.” 

He sets the pen down and pushes off of the counter, meeting you with an outstretched hand. You take it, and he pulls you close, placing one hand on your waist. He guides you in a clumsy waltz to the tempo of the music. 

You giggle at him as he presses his forehead to yours. The lyrics of the upbeat ballad drift from his mouth, hot on your cheek. When the song ends, he keeps his fingers interlaced with yours and leads you to the kitchen island, where you take a seat on a stool across from him. 

He goes to the coffee pot and pours you a cup, then sets it down in front of you. Steam curls out of the white ceramic mug that reads CAVE WITHOUT A NAME. You wrap a hand around it, humming with glee, “Thank you, baby.” 

“Did you sleep good?” he asks, a grin spread across his face as he leans his elbows onto the newspaper. 

He is up to something.  

“I did,” your face flushes as your fingertip runs along the circumference of the steaming mug, collecting condensation, “I, um- I read your notes.” 

He brings his coffee mug to his lips and takes a sip, then sets it down and asks, “Did you like them?” 

You nod and your mouth gapes open as you try in vain to formulate words that could possibly explain the love and devotion bubbling inside you. Every moment you spend with him makes you love him even more. A feat you didn’t even think was possible. Yet, here you are. He wakes you up with love notes, dances with you in the kitchen, smiles at you with those fucking dimples, and you’re falling in love all over again. 

The euphoria that cycles through your veins when he’s touching you. The dread that clutches your heart when you imagine existing without his presence. The deep ache of adoration in your chest when you stare at him long enough to feel sentimental about it. All the ways he occupies your body and soul. Every ounce of you knows that this is it . 

Everything you can think of falls flat. Your face feels hot and your heart flutters. Happy tears prick in your eyes as they meet his and your eyebrows draw together, “You really wrote all of those?”  

He reaches across the countertop and closes your hand in his, nodding, “I did.” 

“Oh, Javi-“ the lump in your throat chokes you up and you wipe away the tears spilling onto your cheeks, “I’m sorry for crying, I just-“ you sniffle and pout at him, “I love you so much. I don’t even know how to explain.” 

“I love you too, cariño,” he rubs his thumb along the back of your hand affectionately. His smile hasn’t faltered, even as he tells you, “I think I’m going to get you to break your record today.” 

The record he speaks of is the number of times you’ve cried in a day. For the past week, tears have become a common reaction to overwhelming emotions. The pregnancy hormones are mingling with your recent life changes, on top of your predisposition to being a crybaby already, and have made you a sappy, teary-eyed disaster. 

Yesterday, he found you outside watching Pickles wriggle around on his back. Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, face wet from bawling. When he asked what was wrong, your answer was, “Nothing, he’s just so cute I feel like my heart is going to explode.” 

Your record is 10 cries in one day. You’ve been awake for about a half an hour and have already cried twice. It’s an impressive start. 

You sniffle again and wipe the stagnant tears away, then start laughing because you can’t even continue to take him seriously. He’s just fucking beaming at you. 

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” he starts laughing, too, then makes his way around the counter to you. 

His rough hands cup your cheeks and you shake your head as you grin up at him, “I just think you’re really great.”

“Yeah?” his smile widens, and you nod in response. He leans in and presses his lips to yours. The kiss is a sweet peck, and you link your arms behind his neck to draw him in again, lingering longer this time. He inhales sharply as your tongue meets his, flipping your stomach upside down. His touch trails back to the hinges of your jaw, and he brushes the sleep-mussed hair from your face as the kiss deepens. 

A soft moan rumbles in your throat and you get to your feet, arching your back into him. His hands find your waist and pull you closer, and you can feel his cock hardening against you under the loose constraints of his lazy Sunday morning sweatpants. But he pulls back, speaking to you between needy, wet kisses, “Wait- mmm, gotta- gotta show you something-“ 

You pout and look up at him as you bring one hand down to his tented pants and rub your thumb in a circle against the tip of his length, “Can it wait?” 

He throws his head back as a hiss sucks the air from his lungs, then brings his eyes back to yours and shakes his head, “Can’t wait.” 

“Are you sure?” you bat your eyelashes and continue to tease him, feeling a bead of pre-cum wet the fabric between his cock and the pad of your thumb. 

A huge smile spreads across his face as he shudders, then pulls you back in for a smoldering kiss. He shakes his head as he gasps against your mouth, “So impatient, cariño.” 

“You want me to stop, baby?” you ask innocently, then roll your tongue against his and wrap your hand around his sweatpants-bound cock. He grabs your wrist gently and laces your fingers with his, then brings the back of your hand to his lips, where he plants a kiss. 

“What I want-“ he lowers himself onto one knee and pulls a little black velvet box out of his pocket. Every cell in your body comes to a standstill. He releases your hand so he can open it, revealing a gold band with a solitary sparkling white gemstone, “Is for you to marry me.” 

A surge of adrenaline floods your bloodstream, making you lightheaded, and you breathe, “Wh- what?” 

Your heart pounds impossibly fast in your chest as he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes and asks, “Will you marry me?” 

Tears brim your eyes for the third time this morning, cheek-burning smile breaking out on your face when you answer him, “Fuck yes I will.” 

“Yeah?” he laughs and his smile is all dimples and perfect teeth when he plucks your hand up and slides the ring onto your finger. 

You laugh through your crying and nod. He gets to his feet and cups your cheeks again, thumbs wiping the tears away, and he kisses you with heat, guiding you backwards until you butt up against the dining room table. 

You cease kissing and throw your head back as laughter bubbles from your throat, “I can’t believe you just let me keep fondling you when you were going to ask that!” 

A smile stretches across his face as he chuckles and shrugs, “You’re very persuasive.”

Your eyebrow quirks, “Oh yeah?”

“But I couldn’t wait any longer,” his face softens into a loving gaze and your heart aches as it melts in your chest. He takes your left hand and holds it up so he can look at the ring he just adorned on your finger, and questions, “Do you know what today is?” 

Your stomach flips and you nod, “I met you five years ago today.” 

“That’s right,” the corners of his mouth upturn and he plants a kiss on your hand, “I fell in love with you five years ago today.” 

Your eyes sting as tears flood them again, the deep well of adoration and love you have for this man just too much to bear, and you pout, “This really isn’t fair, you’re trying to make me cry now.” 

His eyes fold into crescents as he laughs heartily, then presses his forehead against yours, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too, Javier,” you raise your hands to his face, thumbs scraping against the stubble he hasn’t shaved off yet this morning. He kisses you slowly, a series of lazy, wet lingering pecks. 

His hands trail down to your waist, then over and under your ass, palming the cheeks over your thin cotton robe. 

His nose nuzzles against yours and he hums in contentment, “Where were we?” 

“I think,” you drop your gaze to his tented pants and smirk as you bring your grasp around him, circling the dark gray wet spot with your thumb, “We were going to the bedroom.”

He groans at the touch, then shakes his head as he guides you onto the table and nudges your knees apart, “I want you right here.”

You let out a soft coo when he tugs on the sash of your robe until it’s undone and falls open, exposing your naked body. He cradles your head like it’s made of something delicate and priceless, then drags his tongue across yours, sending molten heat dripping down your spine. His lips press against your jawline and he hesitates. 

You whisper, “Kiss my neck.”

“Are you sure?” his eyebrows press together and he pulls back to meet your eyes, searching for reassurance. 

Recently, you both learned that touch to your neck is a trigger now. He has been cognizant not to touch you in the area since an incident, in which he innocuously put his hand to your throat during sex, led to your hyperventilating on the bedroom floor. 

Throughout your recovery after those two days in hell with Dan as your keeper, Javi has been fucking wonderful. 

When you wake up in the night, screaming and crying, thinking you’re still in that closet, he holds you, rocking back and forth, singing quietly as he strokes your hair and lulls you back to sleep. You do the same for him sometimes. 

In the first few weeks, when you would be alone for an extended period of time while Javi and Chucho were out working, panic attacks found you. You would call Javi from their home phone and he’d have you tell him all the things you could see that start with a certain letter, then he would talk you through grounding exercises. 

If it weren’t for the support you receive from him and your therapist, you would be a catastrophe. As opposed to what you are now, which is simply a mess. 

You nod and tilt your chin up, exposing the column of your throat, “I want it. I trust you.” 

“Will you tell me if it’s too much?” his touch falls to your ribcage and ghosts down your sides to your hips, pricking your skin with goosebumps. 

“I promise,” you breathe, and it turns into a gasp when his tongue massages a circle into your pulse. Your whole body shudders when he seals his lips against you and sucks gently. He migrates down your neck, leaving a trail of saliva shiny on your skin, sending your heart racing and your center vibrating with lust. 

“Oh, Javi, that’s so good baby,” you whimper to the ceiling, raking your fingers through his hair. His lips emit a low hum against you, moving to your collarbone where his teeth catch your skin. Your back arches into him, moaning in approval of the sharp sting. He soothes the bite with the gentle caress of his tongue. 

Rough hands skate along the tender skin of your thighs. The contact floods you with a neediness, and you grab at his shirt, whimpering, “I want you, Javi.”

He brings his lips to your ear and purrs, “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Come on,” you pout and reach for his swollen member, but he redirects your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“You need to learn patience, babygirl,” he chastises, then flicks your earlobe with his tongue before grinding it between his teeth. A spring of pleasure flows down to your cunt. You moan in response, pelvis thrusting forward with a mind of its own. He whispers, “Does that sweet little pussy need attention?”

The words slither around inside you, making you squirm, and you nod breathlessly, “Y-yes.”

His free hand splays across your chest, “Well, that’s too fucking bad . Gonna take my time with you,” he warns as he pushes you back gently until you recline onto your elbows, “Gonna make you beg for it.” 

His hot gaze meets yours as his velvet tongue flattens on one of your pebbled nipples. His head swivels back and forth, dragging his tongue across the sensitive bud at a torturously slow tempo. Another shudder runs down the middle of you. 

“Fuck- “ you gasp, arching into the contact, head falling backwards for a moment before you return to meet his love-blown eyes. 

He responds by taking the nipple between his front teeth and tugging ever-so-gently. You moan from deep in your throat at the ripples of ecstasy that shoots across your body. Your cunt clenches around nothing. He moves to the other tit and works away, lapping and nibbling down on your nipple until you’re writhing beneath him, a constant stream of whimpers falling from your mouth. 

“Fuck me, please, Javi, please- “ 

“I will, cariño,” he promises, planting a hot, wet kiss on your sternum, then your belly, never breaking eye contact, “When I’m ready.” 

His tongue draws slow, lazy circles down the soft skin of your abdomen. The sensation rolls across your body and liquifies. He has you shivering and gasping at each touch. 

You huff, "Now?" 

He chuckles at your frustration, then instructs, “Scoot towards me.” 

You follow his order, wiggling forward until your glistening pussy is right on the edge of the table. His hands run down the backs of your thighs, and he spreads you open wide, on display for him. 

His eyebrows press into a crease and his lips form an "o" and he drops to his knees at the sight, purring, “I haven’t even touched this pretty pussy yet and, fuck, you’re already so wet.” 

“So fucking wet,” you whine, rolling your hips towards him, wordlessly begging him to touch you. 

His hot gaze locks on yours, looking up from between your legs as his tongue drags up the middle of your sex. Just a tease. A taste. You ache with want. 

“Fucking amazing, baby,” he breathes, and his gaze falls from yours as he gives his full, undivided attention to your cunt. His soft tongue starts rolling across your clit and you ascend to a different plane of existence. Those same molasses circles he drew all over your body, leaving a shiny trail of saliva to where he is now. Over and over and over again as he groans against you. 

The throbbing of pleasure keeps accumulating, condensing, slowly and steadily pushing you to new heights. Your face gets flushed and sweaty as your heart pounds in your chest. You roll your hips against his tongue, trying to get more. 

He rises to his feet and brings you closer, pressing his forehead to yours, cradling the back of your head with one hand as he pulls his sweatpants down with the other. His pants drop to the ground in a gray heap, releasing his thick, gorgeous cock. His lips capture yours with force, and he growls between messy kisses laced with your arousal, “See- how fucking- good you taste, cariño?”

"I love the way I taste in your mouth," you pant.

His thumb slides hard against your overly sensitive clit. The stimulation feels like an electric cattle prod to your pussy, sending your body bucking and shuddering. The pain is layered, though, and a deep want lays beneath. 

"Please, baby," you whine, grabbing at his shirt and tugging at him, "I need you, please-" 

You bite your lip in anticipation as the head of his cock nudges your entrance. His nose nuzzles against yours and he continues in a gravelly tone that ricochets down your spine, “Is that what you want, baby?”

Your lips form a pout and you nod, then gently thrust your hips against his, dipping him inside just enough to pull a rumble from his throat. The electric sharpness of his touch on your clit is overtaken by a wanton need for him to fucking destroy you. 

“Yes,” you whisper, tilting your pelvis against him, “Fuck me, Javi.”

He slowly drives his hips forward at your admission, filling you, sending waves of pleasure surging from your cunt to the tips of your toes. A moan is ripped from your throat and you throw your head back. He starts to fuck you, pumping into you deep and merciless. 

His lips find your neck again. He lays hot, wet kisses on the delicate skin. You run your fingers through his hair and gasp, “That’s fucking perfect, Javi, holy shit,” then tug at the front of his shirt, "Take it off."

He ceases movement, fully sheathed, and sits up, pulling the shirt off over his head. The shirt takes his new glasses with them and they clatter to the floor and he winces. You giggle at the clumsiness. The gentle jostling of your body around his cock trickles ecstasy into your center, and you gasp at the sensation. 

A sheen of sweat glistens atop his skin and he's panting as he meets your eyes with a grin. He looks happy. And in love. You probably do, too, because that's how you feel. The way your heart swells almost fucking hurts. 

You beckon him closer, and he follows, leaning in slowly to press his plush lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, arching your back into him, digging your fingernails into his skin. He throbs inside you, making you gasp. His moan vibrates into your lips, and he starts pumping into you, faster, more frantic now. 

The way you're huddled against each other, whimpering between kisses, reveling in the divine pleasure each movement, each touch, brings you both. As it always does, it feels like you were made for each other. 

As if he can read your mind, he rasps, "I fucking love you."

"I love you, Javi. So- fuck- so fucking much," you pant, pulling his lips against yours again. 

He moans in approval and brings his hands to your waist, trailing up your back to your shoulders. He gets a grip on you here and leverages you down on his cock as he thrusts forward, setting a brutal pace. Your whole body buzzes and tingles, and the kisses grow more desperate. 

His hips snap into yours, bringing you up higher and higher as your muscles tighten and your body starts to quiver. 

“Javi-“ a choked sob escapes you as you start to ascend towards bliss, “I’m fucking cumming- oh, fuck-“

"Fuck yes, cum for me, babygirl," he orders through gritted teeth, "Wanna feel you squeeze me-"

You come completely undone, overtaken with ripples of ecstasy from your center. Your legs clamp down around his hips as your body spasms, and you can hear Javi moan in response to the sensation, pumping into you with reckless abandon a few more times before he spills inside you. 

Slowly, your muscles slacken and soften, but before you can release his shoulders from your grasp and lay back on the table, he whispers breathlessly, "Hold on tight."

"Wh-"

His hands move to your ass and you squeal when he picks you up. He carries you into the bedroom as you giggle into his neck, then you both tumble sideways onto the mattress. 

"Oh, that's so much better," he groans and sprawls out. 

You curl up into the crook of his arm, "You're the one that wanted to- nay, insisted that we- fuck on the table."

"Mmm," he hums and closes his eyes with a small smile playing on his lips, "Just wanted to eat your pussy for breakfast at the kitchen table."

This makes you laugh, loud and untethered, "Worth it?"

He chuckles and nods, eyes still closed, "Worth it." 

There's a flutter inside your belly and you gasp, "Oh my god, Javi."

"What?" his body tenses and his brow furrows. 

It flutters again and your eyes well with tears, "She's moving. I can feel her moving."

A dimpled smile stretches across his face and he sits up, placing a hand on your small, but still noticeable, baby bump. 

"I don't know if you'll be able to feel her kick on the outside," you tell him softly, then chuckle, "She's only a papaya right now."

"That's ok," he mumbles, smiling down at your belly, "Little Miss Rosemary Peña will be able to kick my ass before I know it."

"Probably," you tease. 

He grins at you and shakes his head, then lays back down, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to cuddle you closer. A comfortable, warm silence embraces the two of you, and your fingers trail along his chest, his belly, his face. Writing love notes on his skin. He plays with your hair and watches you with love sparkling in his dark eyes. 

You're home.

[ The End ]

[monkeythefander]

Intruality Week 2024 Headcannons💚🩵

It’s Intruality Week 2024 here on Tumblr and since Intruality is one of my favorite ships I wanted to participate. Here’s some headcannons I made based on some of the prompts for this event. @intrualityweek

The prompts I chose to write for are the following:

- Wonderland/fairytale

-Realization

- Best friend’s brother

- Music

- Butterfly

- Flowers

- Sharing clothes

Content warning(s): mention of darker fairytales (nothing specific or detailed), implied food mention (because two characters are baking), mention of butterflies. Let me know if I missed anything else.

Click below the cut to read the headcannons

——————————————————————

- To try and bond with each other, Patton and Remus decide to read fairytales together; specifically the darker ones since Patton knows Remus likes darker stories. The moral side is a bit creeped out at first by the tales, but he becomes a bit calmer as he sees how much Remus is enjoying reading together.

- As the two sides continue spending time together and grow more comfortable around each other, Patton has a realization. He has a crush on Remus. The moral side grows fond of Remus’ quirky behavior and finds himself unable to hold back a smile around Remus.

- Patton is hesitant to confess his feelings to Remus though. After all, Remus is his best friend’s brother. Would Roman be comfortable with Patton dating his brother? Considering Roman and Remus don’t always get along, Patton doesn’t want to cause more tension between the two brothers. To deal with his feelings, Patton decides to turn to music for comfort. He makes a Spotify playlist that he titles “Best Friend’s Brother” and puts a bunch of songs that describe his feelings about Remus in the playlist. The moral side then listens to the playlist whenever he wishes he could confess his feelings. (Continued in next bullet point)

- One day, Patton and Roman are baking together and Roman asks if he can put on some music. Patton agrees and hands the creative side his phone to put on some music. Roman scrolls through Patton’s Spotify to pick a playlist and stops in surprise at one of the playlists he finds. Roman then asks Patton why he has a playlist tilted “Best Friend’s Brother”, and Patton feeling like he can’t hide this from Roman anymore tells the princely side about his crush. Roman is surprised at first, not expecting someone as sweet as Patton to have a crush on someone who could be so creepy. However, as the romantic side, Roman knows love works in mysterious ways, so he decides to be supportive of his best friend. After all, the princely side has noticed how happy Remus seemed to be whenever he was spending time with the moral side. Roman encourages Patton to confess and Patton nervously agrees. The moral side ends up confessing later that day, and Remus says he has a crush on Patton too. The duke proceeds to pick up Patton and spin him around a few times out of happiness, before placing him back down. The two sides then agree to be boyfriends.

- One month into their relationship, Remus wants to do something special for Patton. Remus decides to make a butterfly garden in the imagination with the help of Roman. The duke knows Patton likes butterflies, so he wanted to give Patton a nice place to sit and watch butterflies. Patton was very happy with the garden and gave Remus lots of thank you hugs and kisses.

- The butterfly garden has lots of flowers in it, so Patton likes to make flower crowns for himself and the other sides as he watches the butterflies. Patton always uses flowers that are wilting or dead for Remus’s flower crowns, which the duke loves and appreciates.

- Patton lets Remus wear his cat hoodie whenever the duke wants to borrow it, which is often because Remus likes how the hoodie makes him feel closer to his boyfriend.

- ———————————————————

End Notes: Thanks for reading! As always, if you liked any of these headcannons and want to make fanart or fanfiction based on them, you can do so as long as you ask me first, and then credit/tag me in the post so I can see it.

-Monkey💜

AO3 Link to headcannons: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57338440

[chaotictarlos]

You took the best of my heart and left the rest in pieces

ship: Tarlos | fandom: 911 Lone Star | author: chaotictarlos| read on ao3

Rating: Explicit Warnings:  Angst, Carlos Reyes needs a hug, canon divergence, before season 3 and during, feelings of being unwanted, self-doubt, Grace is Carlos’ bestie, break-up sex, anal sex, m x m smut, mlm, canon whump, ex-lovers, lots of feelings, canon whump, tk strand whump, internalized homophobia

Word Count: 23,520

Summary: An exploration of emotions. 

To Cassi @ronensass who is my angst bestie and lets me send her songs (and send songs in return) and random thoughts about tarlos - I’m sorry that this took so long to get out.

To Ali @sapphire11 who became one of the biggest supporters of this fic as I wrote it. Thank you for all the encouragement and love that you gave me.

To Giggles @detective-giggles who is just a fantastic person and always listened to my ideas and lets me scream in her inbox about so many different things and sends me the best plot bunnies.

To Noxy @noxsoulmate who always listens to my spirals and allows me to scream about different things and ideas and who always helps me put my ideas into the proper order.

To @lightningboltreader who was so encouraging and allowed me to scream with them about this fic and was always excited when I posted something about it.

To @thebumblecee @mooshkat and @cowlos-reyes has listened to me complain and stress over this fic many times.

To everyone in the TWP discord who has been encouraging and so kind.

Thank you to everyone who's sent an ask about this, who has taken the time to send motivation, and have been excited for this fic to come out.

Author's Note: Title from In the Stars by Benson Boone. Cassi sent me this song and I’ve been listening to it a lot on my drives I thought of this idea so here it is. Remember this is slightly canon divergent so not everything might line up with canon but I did the best I could to make it mostly canon. Though it did, at times, take on a mind of its own. This fic means a lot to me. I spent 6 months writing it and it grew to be this epic -what I think - a masterpiece and I have a few others planned to go on with this fic. I hope you guys enjoy it. I would love to know your thoughts so please drop your thoughts in a comment, send me a DM, or an ask. I'm so nervous to post this dnsndj I hope you all enjoy it and take time to read it. I know it's long.

I am writing a TK POV and a sequel where it explores them getting back together. I hope to have those out soon.

I have also made a Spotify playlist for this fic! Take a listen as you read!

----

Oh, it hurts so hard

For a million different reasons

You took the best of my heart

And left the rest in pieces

- In the Stars by Benson Boone

Past Sundays would have found Carlos awake early and in the kitchen, making breakfast for him and TK because it was their favorite day. After TK got hurt again, they had made a promise to each other that they would always set aside one day of the week that would be their day. A day that they would set aside for time with each other, a day where their attention would only be on each other and they would ignore - within reason - outside forces. It took a lot of begging, graveling with their captains, and promises of picking up an extra shift if needed, but they were both able to get Sundays off so they could enjoy the act of just being together. It was important to both of them that they had one day to stop and enjoy each other’s company and remember that they were important to each other - not that that fact was often forgotten.

Carlos would always start with making a pot of coffee and let the smell of it fill the townhouse. It was a dark roast that both he and TK were fond of. It always made Carlos chuckle to make it because he knew that TK was going to load it down with sugar and cream, ruining the taste of it in Carlos’ opinion, but he was still fond of how TK did it; he had given up on trying to convince TK to get one of the sweeter coffees so that he could add fewer things to it. Carlos would make himself a cup and enjoy the morning paper before he would start breakfast.

Sunday had become pancake day for breakfast. It hadn’t always been that way when they started setting the day aside for each other, and Carlos couldn’t remember what had prompted them to decide that they were going to have pancakes each Sunday, but it was enjoyable. Carlos liked to challenge himself and each week he would come up with different ways to make the pancakes so that they wouldn’t grow tired of it.

Eventually, the smell of coffee and pancakes drifting through the townhouse would wake TK and he would wander into the kitchen, most often blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. TK would mutter a good morning, sometimes complaining that morning came too fast, and Carlos would wordlessly hand him a mug of coffee and kiss his temple. He would urge his sleepy boyfriend to go back to bed and tell him he would bring breakfast to bed when it was down. 

After a few more kisses were exchanged, Carlos would watch TK shuffle back to bed with a soft smile on his face. He would finish breakfast, make two plates, and put them on a tray to carry up and into the bedroom. It was always a 50 / 50 chance whether TK would be awake and drinking his coffee, or asleep with his cup sitting on the nightstand beside him. If he was sleeping, it was never tough to rouse him again and convince him to wake up for breakfast - and more kisses, of course.

They would eat and laugh together and then later, with their dishes cast aside, they would enjoy each other in bed before taking an after-breakfast nap and then spend most of the morning cuddled in each other's arms. The afternoons were always reserved for going to the Reyes’ for Sunday dinner. 

It was always a time when they could just be together and enjoy being in love. Even when the townhouse burned down and they had to move in with Owen for a while, they still found ways to make their Sundays special to them. They might have looked different, but they were still filled with love and taking time to be together. It was the one little bit of normalcy they had when everything went up in flames.

But all that was before.

READ ON AO3

tags: @strangefurychaos @ronensass @sapphire11 @first-kanaphan @angeltk @noxsoulmate  @beautifulhigh @welcometololaland @rangergurlgleek1211 @detective-giggles @tarlos-spain @lonestardust @bubblesandroses8 @thebumblecee @mooshkat @importantbailiffpaperpony @tarlos-spain @ramblingdisaster73