#the minute he said he had a cat I was down bad

[evermorecountsastherapy]

sorry for the spam reblog of pathetic bbg wizard cat dad content. I'm currently losing my mind over him. hope this helps 🥰

[chuluoyi]

✎ unconcealable

- gojo satoru x reader

your boyfriend may not show it, but the six eyes are his burden to bear. you know it firsthand when he falls into your arms for the first time

genre: teen!gojo, fluff, hurt/comfort, flashback and fast-forward to dad!gojo later

note: hello hello i’m alive~ i have this little thing of fluff/comfort pampering in my head throughout my vacation and it’s been a long time since i last wrote about teen!gojo so here it is :D will proofread later when i get the chance!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Back in 2006—

“Satoru, move away—”

“Nuh, uh! I’m staying! You’re too soft~”

“Satoru, If Yaga-sensei walks in… he’ll think we’re doing something indecent!”

“Mmm, don't care~”

This is the gym. Anyone could walk in. And yet your boyfriend of three weeks, Gojo Satoru, claimed his place by resting his head on your lap and squeezing his eyes shut so comfortably… like a cat.

You sighed, vexed and almost giving up— and then you noticed just how good-looking he was. Not that you just realized it now, but his long eyelashes, his smooth skin, white hair...

You have snagged a heartthrob. Or at least he could be if it wasn't for his questionable tendencies.

“Satoru, I’m being serious,” you griped, blinking back your pounding heart and starting to get anxious if anyone would see the two of you on the floor, with him over you. “Get up. Now.”

He knitted his brows together. “So stingy... Can’t your dashing boyfriend get five more minutes?”

“No. Up. Now.” You learnt by experience that the more you indulged Satoru, the more you would be inclined to comply as well. So before he dragged you into that hole...

“Hmph! No!”

“I’ll really flip you if you don’t move—!”

And that’s finally when he cracked his eyes open, totally pouting. “So mean! My head is hurting, you know! I just want to rest a bit!”

You were somewhat taken aback by his little outburst but he really got up this time, and then he stalked away, mumbling complaints.

"Some girlfriend you are... so not considerate..." he pursed his lips together, seemingly hurt as he made his way out.

That almost annoyed you greatly, and you were about to retort back when to your shock, he suddenly clutched his head and staggered. "Ahh—"

"Satoru!"

You sprinted to him and caught him as he wobbled, supporting his weight.

"Are you okay? What happened?!" you were so spooked that you went down with him to the floor again. And you immediately pulled him to you when he heaved a shuddering breath.

"I'm okay—" he said in a pant, pressing his eyes together so tightly. "I'm okay, I'm okay! Don't—"

"You're not, you idiot!"

Something with his eyes. It just dawned to you that he didn't wear his sunglasses today, and by instinct, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing him close to your chest.

"Is it hurting badly now?" you worriedly asked, keeping him tight in your embrace. "Do you want me to get you something?"

Contrary to your worries, what Satoru was more focused on was the exponential warmth that enveloped him. He had a migraine for a while there, but you so easily anchored him, making it somehow hurt less.

"You said Yaga-sensei will catch us and think we're having sex," he sullenly accused to hide the sudden blush spreading quickly on his face. "You didn't care about me just a minute ago."

"That's... a minute ago!" you hissed. "Now I'm worried!"

Your response made him smile despite himself. Satoru found comfort in the darkness of being squished against your boobs... perhaps way more than he thought he would.

"Then let me stay like this for a while. I'll be okay in a jiffy, 'kay?"

"Hmm," you hummed, absent-mindedly stroking his soft hair. You started to feel bad for chasing him away earlier, and squeezed him. "Does your head hurt often?"

"Whoa, it's only when I'm like this that you'll touch me so openly," he responded with a mock sigh, and you fought the urge not to roll your eyes. "Poor me."

"Poor you indeed. So answer me, does it, or does it not?"

"Nah, it's just how it is sometimes. Just some side effects of my eyes, you see."

"Why don't you wear your glasses today?"

"...Nanami broke them after I ate his last doughnut."

"You..." you almost giggled, and yet so exasperated at the same time. But the way Satoru squeezed your waist to hug you in return made you spare him.

You two stayed like that for a while, and when the bell rang to indicate the start of the next period, you asked him again. "Are you okay now?"

"Mm-hm, yeah, much better."

"Then let's go back to your class. I'll help you go there."

"Ehh..." But Satoru, ever the stubborn one, just buried his face into you, holding on tight and not letting go at all. "No."

You frowned. "Why—"

"Don't wanna move~ your boobs are just too good..."

"—? What—"

"They're soooo soft. Seems jiggly too? Ah, my pain is healed! Oh! When we get married, will I get to bite them too—"

"Satoru, you!"

Long story short, you two missed the next period just because Satoru nagged you to stay with him... and at the end of it all, the ones who opened the doors to the gym were Nanami and Haibara, who immediately went to report to Yaga and red-faced respectively.

Back to present—

"Time for your teardrops!"

Satoru squeezed the bottle of eyedrops, lining it up with the striking blue eyes of his six-year-old son, an cute little pumpkin who was a carbon copy of him in every way, as he laid his head on his lap.

"Mmngh," his son squirmed as the water made contact with his sensitive eyes, and squeezed both eyes shut as soon as his papa was done.

Having inherited his eyes, the boy had started to feel pain whenever he accidentally overused them. Satoru knew the feeling well, and as much as he tried to humor him, something inside him prickled whenever he saw him getting teary-eyed due to the pain.

"Still stings?" he asked with a frown. "Want to use blindfold cover your eyes, hmm?"

Your son mumbled, "...no."

"What do you want then?"

"...I want mama."

Satoru snorted, pinching his boy's plump cheek fondly. "Same, kiddo. I want mama too."

The little boy cracked his eyes open out of spite. "You always bother her everyday."

"It's not as if you do not but whatever." Satoru pursed his lips as he stared at his boy. "If only I can put those rotting grandpas in elderly home, your mama can be freed from missions."

The kid snuggled close to his lap, seeking comfort, and suddenly, he felt flash of warmth burst inside him, realizing that his little munchkin wanted him to make him feel better.

"Look, I'm not mama, but I can do this too—" he hoisted his son, and hugged him close, hiding his little face into his sturdy chest. "Here you go. Better?"

The little baby that forever connects him to you. Satoru loved his son as much as he loved you.

He had no one to really comfort him in the early days of misusing his eyes— they only told him that it was the price for the greatness he would possess. Until you did. You didn’t speak of power or strength. Each time he suffered from those migraines back then, you would hold him close.

And so, he'd be damned if the same thing happened to his precious son. He wouldn't let him be told that—he would do his best to soothe him, to make him feel safe.

"Tomorrow we're getting kikufuku, yeah?" he said with a smile, patting his son’s back gently. "And ice cream too."

"Mmm... 'kay..." the boy replied. "Papa... sleepy..."

"Then sleep, kid. I'll wake you when mama comes back, yeah?"

You. The baby. The two of you were always the center of his world. As he too drifted off to sleep beside his son, he thought that chasing after you was most definitely the greatest decision he made from that blue spring that would never return in his life.

Epilogue

"I'm home!"

Your mission ended with a bang as you completely obliterated the cursed spirit. You went home with a spring in your steps, thinking that your silly husband and cute son would be waiting for you in this afternoon.

But no one greeted you back, and you found yourself walking to your master bedroom, only to be floored by the sight.

Satoru had dozed off so unguardedly, but he had one protective arm over your son, who was also sleeping. They looked like a pair of twins, and the way your son curled up to your husband melted your heart so much that it brought a wide smile on your face.

Click! Click! You took several photos so you would be able to look at their sleepy state whenever you wanted. But as you marveled at the photographs, suddenly a sneaky hand yanked you—

"Whoa—!"

"Shh, you'll wake him up, mama," Satoru sleepily grinned as he smooched your face. "You took so long, I missed you."

"I finished one day early," you huffed, but then your expression softened as you gazed at your sleeping son. "Seems like both of you are getting along well while I was gone~"

"I fed him mochi and cookies, of course he'll be obedient."

"—! I told you he'll get cavities soon if you don't limit the sweets intake!"

"Oh? Then we just have to have another baby who won't get cavities just as you wish then~"

"That's not how it works! Satoru, you—!"

[kentopedia]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[mariamlovesyou]

tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:

plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."

contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."

on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."

rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."

"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."

"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."

rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."

"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."

"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."

plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."

before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.

on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."

"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."

a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.

she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.

[auroralwriting]

his little finger

spencer reid x fem!hothead!reader

part two here

spencer has you wrapped around his finger; you'd do anything he said without question. your team can't quite understand it. little do they know you and spencer have an unsaid.. thing.

warnings: reader has a hot temper? is that a warning? | words: 1k short but sweet!

You were known to have a confident personality. You never let anyone shake you, that's why the team loved you so much. You were the sole, beating heart of Aaron Hotchner's team; you never let them give up. Not only, but you were kind of a badass. You knew how to profile amazingly, and you could hold your own if an unsub got a little too rough.

Something else you were known for? A hot temper.

Okay, maybe it could go a little bad sometimes, but you truly meant well. Like that time you accidentally made a teenage boy cry. To be fair, he was a potential unsub. He actually was the unsub, so not all was a total failure.

Today was different for you. The coffee shop you frequented before work was closed due to issues with the electrical systems. That put a chip in your day. How was one to thrive without coffee? Next, you forgot your badge at home, making you late for work since you had to retrieve it to even get into the building. That put a dent in your day.

Derek was known to be a funny guy. Not the kind of funny guy you'd actually laugh at, but the kind who kind of pissed you off sometimes. Yeah, that kind. While he meant well at heart, it just royally pissed you off. You couldn't help that!

You leaned your elbows on the table, listening to the coffee pour into your cup. "Hello my little fox," Penelope greeted, her face frowning when she saw the look on yours. "What's wrong?"

"Bad day so far," You muttered. "Everything's just going wrong."

"It's only seven," Derek said as he walked in, smile on his face. "Come on, sugar. Go on and sit down at your desk. I know how you like your coffee." You thanked Derek quickly as you went to your desk. It was right next to Spencer.

Oh, Spencer. The boy who fell hard for you, who made you fall for him. Neither of you knew that, though, your crushes remaining secret still. "Y/n," Spencer frowned, "what's wrong?"

"It's alright, Spence," You forced a small, pathetic smile. "Just a bad morning."

Spencer gave you a half smile, "Positive attitudes actually give you a higher likelihood of having a better day by ten to thirty percent," Spencer rambled, "and that actually is the same for social connections, being a twenty to forty percent. You're on the right track."

You loved Spencer's rambles. They were adorable. "Thanks, Spence." You smiled.

A few minutes later, Morgan came to your desk with your coffee in hand. "For you, sugar." He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. You quickly took a generous sip.

It left your lips quicker than it entered. You spit it out into the trash can next to your dest, face turning sour at the taste. It was so bitter, so salty. "What the hell, Morgan?!" You cried out, "What is this?"

"Salt, sugar." He teased.

Your face turned hot, "How old are you, six?" His face slowly fell as you became angrier, "Genuinely, how old are you? Because last I checked, children don't have jobs."

"Hey," Derek tried to calm you down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to actually upset you."

"Oh, of course you didn't!" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your lips. "You just don't get when people don't want you to make them feel worse!"

Derek's face fell into a frown. You didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but you couldn't stop your words. "Y/n," Spencer said firmly, "Sit down, now."

Before you could even think, you followed his command. The whole event caught Penelope, Emily, Rossi, and JJ's attention. JJ was quick to rush over, grabbing your coffee. "I'll get you the right one, it's okay." She comforted as Emily quickly lead Derek away. Rossi and Garcia decided to mind their own business, smart.

You groaned, head in your hands. Spencer was quick to kneel by you, taking your hands into his own. "Y/n," He said softly, "Take a deep breath. I know, I know." You followed his instructions, inhaling and holding it like he demonstrated, softly letting it out after. "Good job, sweetheart, do it again for me, okay?"

After a few more times, your face cooled off. You closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."

"I know, he knows, too." Spencer assured. "He knows he was out of line. You reacted the same way anyone would. It's alright."

Spencer raised his hand to your face, softly brushing your cheek with his thumb. JJ walked over, unsure if she was ruining.. something?

"Hey, I got you your coffee," She hesitantly spoke. You looked up, reaching out quickly.

"Thanks," You mumbled, taking a cautious sip. When you realized the taste was right, you took a bigger sip, sighing at the warmth flooding down your throat.

Spencer gave you a small smile, "See? It's okay now."

You nodded with a smile, thanking him softly. He went back to his desk, re-opening his report. You did the same, clicking your pen open.

"Okay, now what the hell was that?" Derek asked, the previous team members crowding around Rossi's desk.

"I felt like I was walking in on them," JJ mumbled awkwardly. "The tension was so strong I thought it was gonna slice me clean in half."

Emily smiled, "I bet they're in love or something, only love can make a person react like that. She would've bitten anyone else's head off." Everyone mumbled in agreement.

"I bet two weeks," Rossi said after a moment.

"Nah, knowing Reid, it's gotta be more like three." Derek shook his head.

Emily laughed, "I bet a week and a half. Y/n's too badass to not admit it first."

"I don't think they ever will until we do for them." Penelope sighed, knowing how stubborn both individuals were.

"I say one week, solid." JJ nodded. "I felt that tension."

Hotch's voice came out of nowhere, "Four days."

Everyone turned around, shocked. "Hotch, you sure about that?" Derek asked, a slight tease in his voice. "You know them."

"I do," He nodded, "Four days. You'll see I'm right."

[thewispsings]

Hello, can please request something Charles Leclerc and dating a very successful actress like an Emmy winner kind of actress, and him being the perfect trophy husband, and everyone's obsessed with them

trophy husband | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x horror actress!reader

summary: charles leclerc is the perfect trophy husband, even if he can’t quite bring himself to watch your movies.

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, landonorris, and 693,928 others!

charles_leclerc: some of my favorite posters so far 😍 make sure to go watch MaXXXine July 3rd, staring my beautiful wife!! ❤️

view comments below!

user1: i still can’t believe they are married 😭

user2: HERE BEFORE MAX!! I MADE IT 😫😫

maxverstappen1: are you going to be able to make it through the whole movie this time?

charles_leclerc: probably not!

user3: LMAO CHARLES JUST ACCEPTED IT 😭😭

user4: i remember there was a time when charles used to swear up and down that he could sit through yns movies..he’s grown 🥹

user5: to be FAIR; i can’t really sit through a y/n movie either. they are always so fucking terrifying, i have to take like 30 minute breaks each minute 

user6: the queen of horror will do that to you 😭

user7: charles supporting y/n even though he’s too scared to watch any of her movies is so funny

user8: i just looked at my bf and sighed

pierregasly: so excited 😁

user9: do you think they’ll do another y/n movie, movie night without charles 😂

user10: don’t make it sound like they didn’t invite him?? he CHOSE not to go because he was too scared to watch the movie 😭

yourusername: thank you for the support love 💚

charles_lecerc: HEHEHE ☺️ of course my love anything for you!! ❤️

user11: did this mf just giggle through comments

user12: sometimes i question my high standards, but then i see charles acting like this with y/n and i remind myself i should NEVER settle for less

landonorris: i stand with you Charles. her movies are way to scary. i will be streaming without watching tho 👏

charles_leclerc: thank you Lando 😁

yourusername: my two favorite scaredy cats 🫶

charles_leclerc: i should be your ONLY favorite scaredy cat 😕

landonorris: don’t be jealous Charles, we all know you two only want each other 🙄

user13: HELP LANDO 😭😭

user14: get yourself a man who supports you as much as charles support y/n 👏👏

liked by charles_leclerc, and 53,829 others!

ynupdates: y/n at the MaXXXine premiere today! she had on a total of three different dresses tonight and she looks gorgeous!

view comments below!

charles_leclerc: 😍😍

charles_leclerc: WOW 🤩

charles_leclerc: 🤤🤤🤤🤤

charles_leclerc: beautiful☺️☺️

charles_leclerc: 👏👏

charles_leclerc: holy 😘😘

charles_leclerc: obsessed 🥰🥰

charles_leclerc: MY wife 😻😻😻

charles_leclerc: gorgeous😘

charles_leclerc: stunning ☺️

user15: oh this? nothing just charles showing everyone that he is IN FACT the standard!

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, and 729,038 others!

yourusername: so excited for you all to see MaXXXine, i’m really proud of it 🥹

view comments below!

charles_leclerc: you should be proud gorgeous ❤️ it was an amazing movie!

maxverstappen1: you didn’t even watch it?

charles_leclerc: I HAD HER DESCRIBE IT TO ME.

charles_leclerc: you looks stunning! 😍

yourusername: thank you cutie ☺️

charles_leclerc: you think i’m cute? ☺️☺️☺️☺️

user16: is charles aware y/n is already his wife??

charles_leclerc: of course i’m aware! i would never forget the day y/n said yes 😡

user17: bad move think just because they’re married charles would stop acting like he’s trying to get at her

user18: i think it’s so crazy to see a man ACTUALLY love and appreciate his partner; like it’s shouldn’t BE crazy. it should be the standard, but yet.,.

lewishamilton: great movie as always! 🔥

yourusername: thank you lew 🫶

user19: “lew” 🥹🥹

landonorris: someone put y/n in a romcom please.

user20: lando does NOT fuck with the horror

user21: NO BUT PLS YNS AMAZING IN HORROR BUT IS IT A CRIME TO WANT TO SEE HER HAPPY IN A MOVIE FOR ONCE

user22: charles x y/n romcom when??

oscarpiastri: amazing movie! 10/10 loved it 🤩

landonorris: if course you like horror you muppet.

oscarpiastri: not everyone sticks to comedy’s because their scared of a little blood…

user23: READ HIM TO FILTH

user24: i’m so excited to shit my pants watching this movie!! (i hate horror but will watch anything yns in)

. . .

notes: can i just say how much i hate summary’s?? like i hate WRITING THEM, love when fics have them tho, but i feel like my summaries never make sense and they take me FOREVERRR

[kayesfanfics]

Hi can I request a femreader/ nightcrawler story where the reader is shy and anxious, while Kurt misunderstands this as her thinking he’s a monster?

But in truth she’s been trying to confess her feelings to him but she always backs out last minute in fear?

Thank you!

A/N: The way I’ve probably imagined this scenario at 12 years old laying in bed at night. I also made the reader friends with Rogue, Jean and Ororo since she’s closer to their ages

“Sugah, yer lookin’ more nervous than a long-tailed pussy cat in a room full o’ rockin’ chairs!” Rogue tapped your shoulder as she walked into the lounging area, where you were having morning coffee with Jean and Ororo. “What’s gotcha all riled up, huh?”

“Kurt’s playing basketball with the others outside...in shorts.” Jean quipped before taking a sip of coffee, a playful grin on her face. Ororo chuckled at the embarrassed face you made, as if someone just walked in on you changing.

“Jean!” You whined, face turning redder when Rogue started laughing.

“Oh, Y/N! We’re just teasing!” Jean giggled as you pouted at all of them finding your embarrassment amusing.

“I just don’t see why you haven’t told him about her feelings yet!”

They all knew you’ve had the biggest crush on the fuzzy blue X-Man, Nightcrawler, ever since he joined the team a few months ago. He was always so nice to everyone, including you, and he seemed to always say the right thing at the right time. He even made your morning coffee sometimes when you got up late, knowing everyone’s coffee order by heart by now.

The boys were outside playing basketball with Jubilee and Roberto, showing the younger ones how it was done. You watched out the window at the court, seeing Gambit and Wolverine battling for the ball before Kurt teleported between them and snatched the ball from them, tossing it into the basket and laughing when they both started yelling about the “no powers” rule. You smiled before realizing you were staring, clearing your throat and turning to Rogue.

“You know I get too nervous around your brother, I can’t even ask him to pass the salt at dinner!”

“Yer always nervous, that’s fine! But y’know, he totally likes you too. I can tell.”

“No he doesn’t.” You shook your head in denial.

“Yes he does.” All three women said at the same time, side eyeing you or rolling their eyes.

“My dear, Kurt is a very charismatic man, but he goes out of his way to make you smile every chance he gets.” Ororo set her hand atop of yours. “I even see a flash of disappointment when you flee from his advances.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a bit guilty about making him feel bad. You were a generally nervous person, but your anxiety sky rocketed around him, your heart always felt like it would explode out of your chest when he got close to you or touched you. It was difficult to hold eye contact with him, your nerves getting the best of you and looking down at the floor while you spoke to him. You’d give him a scared smile when he handed you things, your blood running cold when his hand brushed up against yours during those exchanges. You often found your eyes wandering to him when he wasn’t focused on you, it was easier to look at him when you knew he wasn’t aware of you checking him out. You loved the way his tail squashed playfully as he joked around with Morph, how his ear would twitch like a cats when he heard someone new enter the room, how his fangs gleamed when he smiled or how his bright yellow eyes sparked with mischief during a fight.

“Okay…you know what? Todays the day, today I need to confess to him! If I don’t today, I never will cause I’m a baby and will back out.” You stood up confidently.

“Yeah! Go get em, tiger!” Rogue cheered as you walked away, then lowered her voice. “She ain’t gonna.”

“I think Y/N can do things she sets her mind to.” Storm defended you.

“Wanna put ten bucks on it?” Rogue raised an eyebrow and cheekily grinned.

“…you’re on.” Storm nodded, shaking her hand as Jean spoke up, saying she’d bet alongside Storm that you could do it.

“You know I can still hear you all?” You crossed your arms from the window, getting a closer look and watching Kurt dodge Roberto’s lunge. Your friends all laughed as you shook your head, trying to get ahold of your nerves.

How were you supposed to tell the most handsome, heroic, sweetest, most amazing person ever you were in love with them? Kurt was genuinely the kindest person you’d ever met, giving you butterflies when you watched him comfort a mutant child during a fight, or how he helped his teammates so gently when they were injured. You couldn’t fathom how people were afraid or disgusted by him, he was the most gorgeous man in the world. How you could see a tinge of indigo under his blue fur when he blushed or bruised, how sculpted and chiseled he was yet also was so soft to look at. When he wore sweatpants and a tank top after training one day, you swore you would have a heart attack right then and there seeing how attractive he looked in the outfit. You adored sneaking peeks of him working out alone, his muscles bulging when he did push ups or pull ups on a bar, how flexible and agile he was and how effortless he made it look. You’d stand outside the door until you felt you would get caught staring, not wanting to seem like a creep.

You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when the door opened, Wolverine carrying Jubilee, pretending to be limp and passed out in his arms.

“What happened?” Jean asked as the girls all stood up from their little coffee and gossip session.

“She tripped and scraped her knee trying to get the ball from Logan!” Morph snickered as they all filed inside.

“I’ve been attacked! He pushed me and now I’m severely wounded!” Jubilee whined dramatically as Logan set her down on the counter. You waited for Kurt while you listened to Jubilee and Wolverine bicker about the seriousness of her cut knee, feeling your heart skip a beat when he finally walked in, chatting with Hank.

“Um…hey, Kurt?” You spoke quietly, but Kurt’s ear twitched and picked up your shy voice.

“Yes, Miss Y/N?” He asked, stopping and letting Hank go ahead of him.

“I…um…could you find a first aid kit, please?”

You blushed when you heard your friends laugh behind you and Storm and Jean handed Rogue money, knowing Kurt was looking past you at them, wondering what they were doing. You felt like a dork backing out of confessing and asking him to do something you could easily do, but you changed your mind at the last second that you weren’t ready yet.

“Sure.” He smiled, before bamfing off. You turned and glared at your friends, before walking walked over to Jubilee, seeing blood dripping down her shin and gravel from the court embedded inside of it.

“Ouch, let me clean that for you.” You said and wet a paper towel, ignoring Logan saying how she was fine and it was part of growing up and being a kid. You kneeled down and patted down Jubilee’s injury, soaking up the blood and wiping out any gravel from the wound.

“Here you are, Y/N.” You heard a familiar sweet, velvety voice beside you. You looked over and saw Nightcrawler holding out a first aid kit from the nearest bathroom, a charming grin on his face.

“Oh, um, thank you Kurt.” You smiled at him shyly, before quickly turning your attention to Jubilee. You didn’t see the look of rejection in his yellow eyes as the irritated twitch of his tail at that, before he sighed and bamfed off again.

*a couple hours later*

“Mein Gott!” The mutant shouted in surprise, also not paying attention to where he was going before tumbling backwards at the collision. You were on your way to training, focusing on wrapping up your hands to look where you were going. Now, you knocked down the last person you wanted to. You felt bad seeing the gorgeous man on the floor because of you.

“Kurt! I’m so sorry! Here, let me help!” You held a hand out to him, but he got up himself.

“It is fine.” He said simply before walking past you, then suddenly pausing and turning to you. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure.” You fidgeted with your hands nervously, anxious for the question.

“Do you…have I offended you in some way?” He asked, his eyes flashing with a bit of sadness.

“What? No? Why would you think that?” You asked, worried your timid behavior had finally kicked you in the ass.

“You tend to just brush me off, I’ve noticed. Lately you don’t really look at me, you respond with few words to me. I just thought…maybe I did something to scare you? Disgust you? Perhaps I…you think I’m a monster?”

You stared at him in the hallway, shock freezing your thoughts for a moment. How could he ever think your awkwardness around him could be because you thought he was disgusting? That he thought you found him frightening? You hadn’t realized how not making eye contact or responding curtly would come across to him, a man who’s been persecuted and attacked his whole life for how he looked. He was the most admirable, amazing person you’d ever met and you made him feel like a monster.

“Kurt, no! Not at all! I just…I do like you, I do! You just…make me very nervous. More so than I usually am…”

“How? Do I intimidate you?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I do not mean to-“

“It’s not that, really. I uh…I just really admire you, I guess. You make me more nervous than the others because…because I really like you…a lot.” You looked down at the floor, shyly looking up into his eyes. His face relaxed when he finally understood what you meant.

“Oh…I apologize for thinking so little of your actions. You are understanding and non judge mental, I should never have assumed what I did about you. How about I take you out to apologize for my ignorance?” He flashed his fangs at you in a charming smile, slowly approaching you before he was close enough to hold out a hand to you.

“I-I…okay.” You took his hand and sheepishly smiled up at him, allowing him to guide you down the hall. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like I-“

“No apology necessary, Y/N, really. I’m just glad we’ve come to…an understanding.” He grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. You blushed and giggled at the action

[rosielovesf1]

spilling secrets on stream | LN4

what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none!

author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦‍♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!

also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶

“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that. 

“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.” 

Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen. 

“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?” 

After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game. 

“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home. 

“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself. 

“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress. 

“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando. 

I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back? 

Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.” 

He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run. 

All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together. 

“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy. 

No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home. 

Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.” 

Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source. 

“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped. 

“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time. 

Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions. 

He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth. 

“Did they hear me?” 

“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him. 

“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.

Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.” 

He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?” 

“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop. 

“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement. 

“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.” 

“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?” 

She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online. 

“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.” 

“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?” 

“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on. 

“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side. 

“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”

@landonorris: kiss me more 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭

[januaryembrs]

THERE'S NO SIGN OF LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [3]

Description: The one where you grieve Emily together (+ the one where you kiss him)

word count: 7.9k

trigger warnings: okay so this chapter is exactly how it sounds, heavy in themes of grief, depression, anger, slight ideation of the world being better without bugsy (as if), DRUG USE (once and not addictively and not by Spencer!), mention of Spencer being horny, mention on blood and drinking.

authors note: this was just supposed to be a little filler chapter for the next one where the real juicy shit happens and long story short it became nearly 8k words of pure angst until the last minute when I decided to stop hurting you all. please don't hate me, promise a big boy chapter is coming up.

previous chpt | next chpt

'Doctor, look into my eyes.

I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life.'

The team had fallen into chaos since Emily died. Hotch thought that just five little stages of grief weren’t quite enough to summarise what they were going through.

Morgan was pissed off by the smallest things, had flipped shit just that morning because the printer had jammed. He'd gone through two mugs and a keyboard in just two weeks in his tempers that had certainly seen better days.

Penelope’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears she was trying her hardest to choke down, to wipe away so fast she could pretend to still see her computer screen, but Hotch didn’t need to be a profiler to see the way her sleeves were smudged with mascara, sodden through 24/7. 

Rossi seemed resigned, tired, his breath smelled faintly of the strong whiskey he saved for special occasions, his hair unkempt, as though he hadn’t slept until the early hours, or if he had it had been unrestful. He took more frequent breaks, came back smelling like the cigars he kept in his desk drawer for the bad days, and he sighed as if the world beat down on his back, like he’d been asked to choose between stopping world hunger or saving the environment. His chest was heavy. His face was tired of losing so many friends he loved.  

Spencer was working himself to the bone, his desk piled with books (even more so than usual), his fingers twitching by his side more often, as if his brain cells had been dialled up to a thousand percent, which was saying something when it came to Reid. In fact the only thing out of ordinary was the fact he was constantly checking his phone, the sight of which had Pen dropping her coffee on the rough carpet, which she had promptly then excused herself with watery eyes over. Yes, he actually knew how to use technology, which he had been so vehemently against for years, until the team realised it was because one very important member of the team had been using her sick days for three weeks now. 

They knew he was looking after her, that he would bring her dinner and make sure the cats were fed, but they had no idea she had all but moved in with him, Niko and Sergio included. 

Yet he found himself checking the screen every twenty minutes or so for signs of an update, even just a thumbs up or a little sign that said seen under his good morning texts. He was scared he’d wandered too far into boyfriend territory, it certainly felt that way when he would come home to see her bundled on the couch, nose deep in one of the books he would leave out for her, how her eyes would light up just the tiniest amount to see him home. She rarely cooked, he knew she didn’t even touch the food in his fridge no matter how much he reminded her she needed to eat when he wasn’t there, to which she usually just nodded at him and buried her head in his arm to escape the scoldings. 

Things were different with her here. He knew she was vulnerable, lost, he saw it every time she came crawling into his bed from where he’d set her up in the spare room, or when Sergio made himself home on her lap and she squeezed the cat to her chest in quiet tears. Usually he would have squirmed out of her grip, he had always preferred Emily, but these days he just let her sob with a docile blink at where Spencer watched her from the other end of the couch, and pretended not to notice when his fur was sodden and messed up. 

Spencer had felt something for her before, the weeks, months even leading up to Emily dying, but with her here, needing him all the time, holding him tightly when he needed to grieve himself, making herself at home in his personal space, he was sure she knew it too. There was no way she didn’t know how he felt. 

But the topic was too heavy, too complex to bring up with her mourning her sister, it would rip the carpet out from beneath her feet, and no matter how heavily, besottedly, how deeply Spencer felt he loved her, he would never do that to her. He couldn’t. 

He had always loved mind games, but loving someone so much you couldn’t not tell them, only to not tell them because you loved them so much felt like a whole paradox even he couldn’t wrap his big brain around. 

So they stayed where they were. She had good days, though they usually looked like said reading on the sofa with nothing but a strong cup of coffee in her stomach. And then she had bad ones. And the bad ones made him scared, so scared he had no choice but to get help. 

Penelope came over the Friday evening with Spencer after work, kitted out entirely with nail polishes and gems, the box set of Barbie movies, a hot chocolate mix she swore by, three tubs of ice cream, face masks, Teen vogue with a Never have I ever section ‘Begging to be answered’ and of course, her Pièce de résistance, her makeup kit and joke fluffy handcuffs for them to tie down Reid and give him a makeover. 

“Hello my handsome gentlemen,” She greeted Niko and Sergio who rushed to the door on instinct, knowing Spencer always gave them each a big handful of treats upon arriving home, “Auntie Penny is here for a super girly evening, no boys allowed,” 

“Am I not invited?” Spencer asked, faux hurt flashing on his face as he shut the door behind them, though his eyes were quick to scan around his living room for any sign of her. There wasn’t, not even a single pillow was out of place, and he knew it had been another day of skipped lunch and breakfast.

“You are, of course you are, I just didn’t want them to get jealous,” She whispered, her brown eyes taking in the too perfect apartment and the lack of the Prentiss girl, “Is she sleeping?”

“No,” He said without checking, because he knew she rarely slept nowadays unless she was in his bed with him, “I’ll go get her,” 

“Okay,” Some of the joy died out of her tone when she heard his voice soften sadly as she set her bags down on the kitchen counter, “I’ll get the hot chocolates ready!” Penelope tried to recover in that perky tone she used to cover up when something hurt her. 

He just hoped this had been the right decision, that he wasn’t pushing her too hard. 

Knocking softly on her door, he let himself in when he heard a small murmur on the other side, and as he suspected, she was curled into a small ball under one of his blankets, her hair wet, her pyjamas in the laundry basket. She had one of his shirts on and some boxers he had noticed had gone missing, but he would never hold it against her. 

She had showered while he was gone at least, and her breath was minty fresh as he crept over the woolly rug and kneeled one leg on the bedside. 

“Hey,” He started softly, sweeter than honey, his cadence somewhat hopeful as he leaned over her and stroked her hair that was still damp. “You got up! Did you eat anything?” 

She looked up at him with tired eyes, but she reached out with both her arms to embrace him gently, like she’d been waiting all day to have him near again. 

“I had a couple biscuits and some coffee,” Her voice was raspy, and it was the first he’d heard her speak in a few days. “I’ll try better tomorrow, I just was a bit tired today-”

“No, no, that’s great,” He rushed to comfort her, to stop the apology that was coming his way whenever she didn’t take care of herself the way he wanted her to, “Penny’s here to see you. She’s here for a girl’s night, if that’s okay?”

Bugsy attempted a smile, though she seemed hesitant, but he thought that was probably just the way her expression was these days, like everything hopeful had been sucked out of her. 

“I’ve missed Penny,” She said, and he knew she meant it. She nodded finally, and he leaned over her to give her a proper hug for putting on a brave face, feeling her nuzzle into his chest at the contact. She sniffed the air for a second, before whispering into his ear, “Is that chocolate?”

He chuckled, stroking down her back and pulling her up into a sit. He’d gotten used to her being pliant under his touch, and he only wished her being so receptive to his advances would be under other circumstances. 

The urge to grab her face and kiss every bit of hurt out of her was growing harder and harder to shove down with every day he saw her so soft and wounded. He wasn’t good at knowing what to say, but for her, he was trying to be. The only alternative was kissing her silly, until the pit she’d crawled into was warm, just warm all over, and she came back to him in one piece. 

“Yes, it’s chocolate. Now come on, before she starts the movie without us,” He breathed gently, helping her out of bed, pretending he didn’t hear the way her joints cracked with the first sign of movement in hours. “Wait a second, pants,” He reminded her, tossing her some sweatpants from the floor, which she shoved on blindly. He didn’t mind her walking around like that if it meant she were comfortable, but he didn’t want her to give Pen a scare. 

A ghost of a smile teased on her lips as he led her out the room with two hands on her shoulders, seeing the blonde woman light up like the fourth of July at the sound of the two of them approaching. 

“Bug!” Penelope called, mid way through distributing a hefty amount of whipped cream and marshmallows on top of three mugs. Spencer watched the second her eyes widened slightly as she took in the girl’s appearance, trying frantically to cover it with an even wider smile, rushing to hug her tightly. He saw the minute she realised she felt so different in her arms; lifeless, heavy, rooted to the spot, like any contact with someone other than the gentle Spencer-touches she was used to made her lock up. 

She looked sick, like she hadn’t known fresh air in weeks, or like she’d pulled three all nighters in a row, or like she would be able to watch a ten car pile up and not bat an eye. She looked dead. She felt dead in Penny’s arms. 

The thought of it made her squeeze her tighter, until she felt two arms cuddle her back firmly. 

“I see Spencer has been treating you well,” Pen said, because she was avoiding the subject of Emily, and the way Bugsy looked exhausted, and the way she saw how scared Spencer was when he’d come into ‘the bat cave’ that afternoon to ask for her help. 

Bugsy attempted another smile, nodding slightly as the blonde drew back from their hug, and she saw the worry she tried so desperately to hide as she took in her face. 

The girl’s skin was dull in a way they’d never seen her before, her expression tired, her bones creaky, like someone had reached down her gullet and plucked her soul right from out of her chest, snatched it there and then. Penelope saw why Spencer looked so worried. 

“He’s been great,” Bugsy replied simply, her eyes finding Spencer’s where he shadowed behind her, worried she would faint on the spot from all the movement. She’d not been eating anything other than what he encouraged down her throat, but he supposed a handful of biscuits were better than nothing. 

She felt the bottomless pit that used to be her heart rip open just that bit further, the way it had done slowly the past few days, eating away at her skin. She knew she could never ever repay Spencer for everything he was doing, knew the odd few times she’d managed to collect herself enough to be there for him when he cried could never amount to how he hovered over her every second he was home. 

But where she should have felt guilt, there was nothing, there was just nothing left of her. 

He seemed to notice the slip, the way he always did, and she never did tell him how perceptive he was as he stroked over the back of her hair, leading her with a warm hand on her upper back to the sofa where Pen had already laid out the movie selection, had already grabbed the hot chocolates that were quickly melting onto the coffee table, where Niko was waiting with an eager pink tongue to collect his share, where he settled her down and wrapped her in a blanket as if he was swaddling a baby, where he let her take the middle and him and Pen on either side as Fairytopia lit up his living room with hot pinks and rainbows and flowers and magic. 

And even though she had yet to crack a smile, a real one at least, she seemed content, not entirely uncomfortable with the evening as Penelope commandeered one of her hands to paint her nails a shiny blush colour  ‘to match the evening’. Spencer thought for a minute she might have just needed some girl time, something no matter how many cuddles and sweet words he whispered could never give her. Maybe that was all she’d needed. 

Maybe she would get through this without entirely crumbling.

It wasn’t until the next day when even showering was too big a feat for her, when she had only two mouthfuls of the blueberry pancakes he’d made her before she apologised with watery eyes that he realised how stupid he was for believing it. 

It wasn’t until she said she wanted to move back home by herself that he really started panicking. 

JJ took her out for a picnic in the park the following weekend. The guilt was eating her up alive about hiding Emily’s secret, and from what Pen had told her, she wasn’t doing good. She wasn’t even doing bad; she was barely hanging on by a thread. Hotch had said she would be a flight risk with her sister gone, had said they would need to keep an eye on her as much as they would the rest of the team, but for Emily’s safety she couldn’t tell her the truth. JJ could only stand back and watch as the girl they all knew crawled into something dark inside herself and barricaded the door closed. 

Spencer had taken the nice approach with her, never forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to or asking too directly, as had Penelope. They’d both tried letting her open up by herself, which had only resulted in the girl taking about five steps back and even starting to shut out Reid, something which they all saw tore him up even more than seeing her wasting away in his spare room. He spent more days at hers, crying harder than she had seen him even when he was struggling with opioids. Crying for Emily some of the time, but mostly crying for the fact he was entirely helpless now she had moved out, like the one thing that had held him upright until then had left in a guilty mess of ‘sorry’s and dead eyes.

So she instead took the approach of telling Bugsy she needed help. Because if there was one thing that had always been able to bend her will, it was someone else needing her. 

JJ thought about reminding Spencer that Bug would come back if he took the same route, if he just told her how badly he needed her instead of her feeling like she was simply a burden on his life. But she knew he wouldn’t hear it, he would only blame himself more. 

So she’d told Bug she was struggling with looking after Henry alone while Will was working away, that he’d been asking for her since she’d come to his second birthday party with the biggest stuffed whale toy he’d ever seen. It was a white lie, Will was home more days than she was, but Henry had been asking for ‘the bug lady’ every time he played with his teddy. And it worked like a charm. 

So they sat in the warm April breeze, Bugsy reading on her stomach as JJ carefully nudged a punnet of fat, red grapes her way, hoping she would take the hint and swallow a few. 

It wasn’t until Henry came diving over to them from where he was collecting snails by their shells that Bug even showed any sign of pulling herself out of the book. 

“Buggy!” The little boy called, his tongue struggling with the complexity of the ‘gsy’ sound, and she looked up at him with a tired smile on her face that JJ saw right through immediately. “Buggy, look,” 

She held out her hand, and he gently placed a common land snail in the palm of her hand, no bigger than a quarter, who happily slid over her fingertip with a squishy sensation. 

“Thankyou, Henry,” She replied, her eyes trailing over the shiny slime he left behind over her palm, his tiny antenna eyes googling up at her. “What should we call him?” 

“Sid’d’snail,” Henry replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, crouching next to her to watch him crawling over her chipped pink fingernails.

“Hi Sid,” She chimed, and JJ watched her face drop into a completely emotionless expression the second Henry’s back was turned to find Sid a friend. 

She felt it clawing at her throat to come out, Emily’s alive, Emily’s alive, come back to us please, please come back to us because Emily’s still alive. JJ was watching her rot in front of her very eyes, and better yet she had the power to stop it with those very few words. 

She could put an end to all of this, she knew how badly it had hurt when Ros died, her older sister, her whole world ripped from her the way Emily’s ‘death’ was doing to Bugsy. She would have given anything for someone to have turned to her and said ‘Jennifer, your sister is still alive. Jennifer, it was all a trick, a hoax, a ploy to keep you safe. Jennifer, Ros is still here, alive and breathing and living her best life in Paris of all places.’

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t betray Emily like that, and knowing, no matter how much of a relief it would come, would put Bugsy in more danger with Ian Doyle and whatever other enemies her sister had made at interpol than she could have ever realised. 

So instead, JJ just ran a gentle hand over her hair that warmed in the sun, and started braiding parts of it absent-mindedly, like they were two girls in a playground waiting for hometime.

JJ stayed quiet, and watched Bugsy get worse. 

Aaron came over to her apartment at 8am sharp. He’d found JJ and Penny in floods of tears in the women’s bathroom when they were due to start the presentation of the latest case and they were nowhere to be seen. Spencer had become detached, quieter with every day that he checked his phone and saw no reply, but had mentioned he’d seen them go into the bathroom together as he got his morning coffee, only for their boss to see the two of them clinging to one another with wet cheeks and before he could even ask, Penelope splurged that Bugsy hadn’t messaged in four days and was refusing to open the door, and that even Spencer asking so sweetly, something that was usually her kryptonite, had failed to draw her out. 

Aaron was convinced if this didn’t work he was kicking down the door himself, even if it meant filing paperwork for a necessary home visit. 

Aaron Hotchner, surprising to no one, was soft on the youngest Prentiss girl. He’d watched her grow for four years straight, had come to her of all people in his hour of desperate need, and felt every second of her grief as if it was his own because he, like JJ, knew he had the power to stop it all but couldn’t. 

He called her name through the door first, her real name, loud yet anxious, along with a firm knock. When he heard nothing back, he rapped on the wood louder, “Bugsy, I know you’re in there. The team are worried about you, they’re worried you’re hurt,” 

Nothing. 

And it wasn’t just the team that was worried, it was him too, if his heavy fists banging even harder were anything to go off of. 

“Bugsy, if you don’t answer I’m sending for the SWAT team and asking them to ram this door down,” He said, with not a trace of a lie in his tone. Because he wasn’t lying, not by a long shot. 

He heard footsteps then, and she appeared through a small crack in the doorway, not open enough for him to see the mess in her living room, but enough to see the way her entire face looked like a cadaver. 

He fought back against the guilt choking him from the inside out.  

“Stop yelling,” She murmured, almost bitterly, “You’re scaring the cats,” 

“You’re scaring us,” He countered back, in a tone that was a little too mean, but from what he heard, soft and gentle wasn’t working, “Please, just let us help you, stop pushing everyone away,”

“That’s a little pot calling the kettle black there, Hotch,” She said in an equally harsh tone, her face scrunching into a frown, and she nearly slammed the door on him right there and then. 

“Get your work out clothes on, we’re going for a run,” He ordered, and it was only then she notices his sport shorts and trainers. She scoffed in his face. He was quick to shove a foot in the door before she actually could swing it shut on him, ignoring the way he nearly yelped as it trapped between the wood, “I’m not asking,” 

“Fuck off,” She spat, and he bristled at her choice language, but he saw the way her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was a roadkill on a sidewalk waiting to be put out of her misery; she didn’t want to be prodded and poked at and ordered around, she wanted out. 

She wanted to go quietly, without a fight. And it was for that reason, he put up more of a struggle. 

“You are coming outside with me, even if I have to drag you down the street myself because this is not how it ends for you.” Aaron barked back, forcing the door open with one of his large hands as if it was nothing.

“Of all people, I would have thought you would understand, Aaron,” It was like she had slapped him in the face, though he thinks maybe that would have hurt less, and it was only then he saw her eyes had welled up, and her bottom lip was quivering. It was a horrible sight, it twisted his guts like he’d been stabbed by Foyet all over again, but it was better than the nothingness that was there before. 

“Ofcourse, I understand,” His voice softened, his hands coming up to gently rest on her shoulder like she was breakable china beneath his palm, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to want to hide away and never face a world without Haley ever again? I can’t, even now, imagine the rest of my life with her gone,” His throat clogged with emotion he fought off, because he refused to have both of them crying in her living room when he was meant to be the one pulling her out of it, “But I do it because Jack needs me-”

“No body needs me,” She said emptily, ignoring the way Sergio wrapped his tail around her leg and meowed loudly as if to tell her otherwise. 

“Yes we do,” Hotch insisted, seriously, damn near ready to shake her on the spot to knock some sense into her, “We need you, and better yet we love you. You may have lost your sister, but you still have a family waiting for you, Bugsy,” 

And that was it, the single crack that broke the dam. Before he knew it she had launched herself into his arms in a fit of tears, clinging to him tighter than he thought she could for someone who looked so weak and perished. 

He just held her close, feeling his own stray tears drip down his nose as his shirt got wet through. In another life, maybe he and Haley would have had a daughter, and maybe she would have reminded him of Bugsy, maybe his heart would soften to putty just the same way it did with her. The same way it did for Jack. 

And eventually, when she dried her face, and quietened Sergio down, she went to put on her gym gear and one of Spencer's hoodies she’d stolen and felt too guilty to give back, and they went for a run.

If there was one thing Rossi knew better than his whiskeys, it was how to cook a good carbonara. And if there was one thing Bugsy needed more than anything at the moment it was a buttload of carbs and cheese. 

Aaron had been taking her running every morning since that day, and even she had to admit the fresh air and exercise did her good, made her feel stronger and less like the women they find in body bags at the beginning of a case, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could get through the rest of this. 

It wasn’t going away overnight, not by any means, but she looked healthier, and her exhaustion meant she got more sleep too, but what remained was a hunger that she was filling with cereal and instant noodles that Rossi knew he had to put a stop to immediately. Instant noodles should have been outlawed with crack and underaged drinking, he would proudly tell her. 

So he invited her over for a cooking lesson, or as he would put it, she could watch him cook and eat as much as she wanted at the end, if she promised to never buy those awful microwave ramen ever again. And she’d agreed, because she felt her appetite coming back every day (and she knew where he kept the good white wine).

“Now as entertaining as this is watching you drain my stash of Sémillon, why don’t you chop up that pork and I’ll get started on the sauce.” He handed her a sharpened butcher’s knife, and the thin slices of seasoned ham, turning to use the stove for just a few moments, “You’re gonna add the cream in until it becomes thick, like cough mixture running off your spoon,” 

“Thick and creamy, you got it,” She chimed in, her fingers slicing the meat into strips, “Did you want this as diced or Julian?”

“Do you mean julienne?” 

“That’s what I just said,” He chuckled into the pot, his chest warming to hear some of that old bratty teenaged sass returning to her tone. He bet she would have run rings around him if she was his kid. 

“Diced, if you would,” David said, using a wooden spoon to stir in the thick cream little by little until the container ran empty. 

“Yes, Chef,” She hummed in response, flipping the chopping board around to begin slicing them the other side, “So, I’m guessing if I asked to try some of that Sauvignon I saw in the fridge, your response would be- oh motherfucker-”

David frowned, “Maybe not so harsh on the tongue but-” He turned around when he heard a hiss, and he quickly understood why she’d thrown the expletive out there. 

Her hand ran red with thick blood, dripping quickly down her arm, ruining her shirt. He didnt even care that his hand carved indian wood chopping board was permanently stained, or that the meat was contaminated, or that the blood trickled a little too quick over his floor, only that her eyes seemed suddenly far away as she did nothing to stop the cut gaping. It had caught her in a trance, one she was not even aware she had been sucked into until he grabbed a towel and headed for her. 

“Emily, no! Emily please, I need medical in here, we have an agent down! Emily, please, please don’t, please- Someone get medical, she’s bleeding-”

David’s hands grabbed a hold of her bloodied palm, wrapping it tightly in the cloth, so harshly it knocked her out of the daze she was in, dragged her out from the last time there was blood all over her hand, when it had been Emily’s blood, when she could do nothing but freeze like she had now. 

“I’m fine,” She said on a reflex, even though he hadn’t asked, he had just acted, pulling her towards the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit, “David, I’m totally fine, it’s just a little scratch,”

“You have to let me go,” Emily had gasped. "Let me go, Bug,"

“David, I’m fine, stop worrying,” She said again when she saw him fussing, hoping he couldn't see the way she’d started shaking, and if he had, she wondered if she could play it off as the adrenaline rushing to fix the wound. 

She knew she was on thin ice with the lot of them after her talk with Aaron. Like he said, they were her family, and family’s took care of one another. She couldn’t live with herself if she kept burdening them so much, kept them from grieving their partner just as much as she was; she loved them too. 

Bugsy was trying to get better, she really was. Sometimes it was just a little difficult, like now when she could still see Emily’s butchered body infront of her as if she were little more than that joint of pork she’d been julienning. 

“It’s okay to get hurt sometimes, kid. You don’t have to lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt if it does,” David said, sitting her back on the breakfast table, holding the bloodied cloth up where he was unravelling a spool of bandage and some rubbing alcohol. 

She shut up then, and she wondered if she was really that see through or if David was just that good at his job. They stayed silent, except for the moan of pain she let out when he doused her hand in the solution, pulling the skin closed tightly and wrapping it taut enough for her to feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. 

“It’s okay if you need a little help once in a while,” He continued, his movements gentle and careful, worried he’d spook her with the first real conversation they’d had in a long time. Rossi had always been closer to Emily than he had her, and maybe it was the fact he lost the few chances he had to be a father, or just the fact she reminded him so much of her older sister, but being with her felt like part of the wound in his chest was the one being treated. “Rather than being afraid to ask for help, remember this: When you ask someone to help you, you are actually doing them a tremendous favour by giving them an opportunity to feel needed.” 

“Is that a David Rossi original, or did you get that from one of your self help books?” She sniffed, hoping he didn’t see the way her expression had fallen, or her throat caught with an apology, or how she hid it with a small smile. 

“Richard Carlson.” He replied, pinning the end of the bandage in tight enough it wouldn’t snag. He sighed, looking at the girl who started guiltily at her fingers, reaching behind her for the corkscrew, “I’ll go get the Sauvignon, you order us a pizza. Just please god, no pineapple, that’s just as bad as instant noodles in my books. That’s like asking Da Vinci about bitcoin, it’s madness,” 

And that was the first time she properly laughed in weeks. 

While Derek was more than equipped to schmoozing the ladies when he wanted a date with them, he had not been ready for this when he’d asked Bugsy to go to the club with him.

She had been doing better, Rossi had said. She had seemed stronger, that was what Hotch had told him. Spencer said they’d even gone for coffee together. He left out the part where it felt awkward and almost like they were seeing an ex, though that of course would be impossible, because they were never dating. At least as far as he knew anyway. 

It had been going fine, they’d gotten two rounds of drinks, had been chatting and she’d even been giggling the more the alcohol hit her. She was looking more like she used to, and it almost all felt like a horrible dream hearing from the rest of the team the state she was in. 

He’d turned his back for a second, for two damn seconds, and she’d been whisked away by some frat boy, and come back to him with a crazy happy look in her eye that he didn’t notice until an hour later. 

“Where did you go, kid?” He’d asked, and she’d shrugged like it was nothing. 

“Needed the bathroom,” She said, and he hadn’t even noticed it was a lie until the light struck her eye for more than a couple seconds and he saw just how dilated her pupils were, like the blackness swallowed her iris whole, and the way she buzzed on the spot with more energy than she’d had in months. 

She was supposed to be getting better, and she was trying, really she was. 

But she couldn’t stop seeing the blood on her hand, couldn’t stop seeing Emily’s face now she could actually sleep again. 

Spencer was half way through his fourth re-read of War and Peace, in its original Russian translation, when he got the knock on the door. 

It was 10pm, he muttered to himself, who was bothering him at this time. 

But of course, as luck would have it, it was the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about, the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past three years. 

“Spencerrrrrrr!” She chirped, and immediately alarm bells were ringing in his head, her fingers linked with Morgan’s as if he’d all but pulled her to his apartment from the cab. 

She wasn’t stumbling, and she smelled a little like alcohol, but not so much that her inhibitions would be completely destroyed, so he knew it wasn’t that. And Derek looked guilty, a serious kind of guilty like he’d suggested they take a drive on a motorbike with no helmet, or go chasing unsubs unarmed. 

It wasn’t until she flung her arms over his shoulders, and he’d pulled her inside, Morgan following behind with a nervous clear of his throat that he realised what it was. 

“Spencerrrr, I missed you! I missed you so much, Spencer!” And usually he’d love the way she said his name, but this time it was tainted, too false, too electrified. It barely even sounded like her, he hated the way his heart still pounded out of his chest at the fact she pressed herself so close in that little clubbing top of hers, those tight jeans. 

“What did she take?” He ignored her little hums of a song he couldn’t hear, the way she pushed herself even further into his body in a way he knew too well felt like a warm hug throughout her entire being. “Morgan!” 

Spencer had never snapped at him, not since his own days on whatever it was he was doing, and Morgan ran a hand over his face as she nuzzled her nose into his neck. 

“I don’t know, I swear. I turned my back for two seconds to get us another drink, and next thing I know this senior is hitting on her and she’s shoving gum in her mouth and coming back towards the bar- I don’t know what it was, I swear I thought it was gum, man,” Derek rushed, hating the look of desperation in Spencer’s eyes as he yanked her away from him with a small mewl of protest from her mouth. 

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me,” He murmured, and she did, and he saw almost immediately the way her pupils were the size of saucers when she stared at him, crazed and intoxicated, “Do you remember what you took? I need to know so I can keep you safe,”

“You always keep me safe, so safe with Spencer,” She giggled to herself, trying to pull him back to her, but he wouldn’t budge, not until he got a real answer, “Come on, I’m going to be fine, it was just a little Molly, nothing to worry about. Kid even gave me a half for like ten dollars because he said I was reeeeeal pretty. Do you think I’m pretty Spence? I think you’re pretty, I think you’re super pretty,”

They felt themselves sigh in relief, because while still a drug, half of one pill shouldn’t really do much, especially if it was the cheap stuff going around frat houses that the DEA was having a field day with. 

Morgan looked at Spencer, where he let her shove her face against him once more, wrapping his arms around her back and feeling her sigh in relief that she was back there under his warm touch, and they shared the same thought. 

This never happened. 

Because if it did, it meant opening a can of worms Spencer had tried for years to shut tight. It meant acknowledging that the reason Morgan came to him and no one else was because he knew Spencer would know how to handle her when she was coming down in an hour or so. It meant acknowledging why Spencer would know that, and why they hadn’t acknowledged it the first time around. It meant their jobs would be on the line, and so was hers, and as much as she was struggling at the moment, they knew she just slipped up, and that this wasn’t who she was. They knew she could be better, that Spencer would force her to get better, because if the only other option was having her turn into who he used to be, then he was handing in his notice first thing Monday morning. 

That wasn’t an option in Spencer’s books, nor was it in Morgan’s. 

So Morgan left with a little pat on the back of her head, claiming she was a little troublemaker, though he hadn’t quite sounded as teasing as he’d intended and more bitter, and leaving Spencer with her to minimise the damage. 

Bugsy let him lead her to the spare room that once was hers, but she didn’t quite care enough to say anything other than, “I missed you so much,” As she pushed her face into his neck more. 

He sighed, sitting her down on the bed, knowing where she’d left some of her makeup wipes in his bathroom. 

“Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” But she whined again, making a grab for his hand, which he quickly avoided, feeling mean for it the moment he saw her face scrunch in hurt. He stroked her hair behind her ear, watching her melt under his touch, and it almost felt like nothing had changed, like she had never moved out, and like she hadn’t just burst back into his life after popping a bit of molly and turning his evening upside down, “I missed you so much, too, Bug,”

And he wasn’t lying. Not even a little bit. 

She looked up at him with those dazed pupils, as big as dimes as they batted up at him dreamily, and some awful part of him always wanted her to be looking at him like that, like everything he ever did in his life was perfect and he was a god among men. Like she was seeing her favourite movie for the first time on the big screen, when in reality he was just wiping her makeup off her face and handing her spare clothes to change into so she could sleep off the come down. 

It wasn’t until he tried to leave again to go get her some water that she put up a real fight, one that couldn’t be fought off with a gentle touch (he tried), and she was quick to grab his wrist, tug him closer to her. 

“Bug, I’m getting you-”

“Come lay down with me, let’s talk. I love talking to you, why haven’t we talked in so long?” She said like every barrier she ever put up had come tumbling down and her mouth was a free for all for her every thought. 

Spencer smiled despite himself, his honeycomb eyes soft as he shuffled to lay beside her, and they stared at one another, heads against the same pillow, and she looked soft than an angel laying on his bed waiting for a response. She looked happy for the first time in a long time, and he hated how much it suited her. 

“You moved out, remember, bug? You said you wanted to go home and I didn’t want to stop you,” He said gently, like he didn’t want to upset her. But she just giggled and shook her head like he’d told her a joke. 

“Oh, yeah. But I didn’t really want to go home. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you forever,” Bugsy giggled to herself, wiggling her toes inside her socks and running a finger up his arm gently as she lay on her side, “I missed you so much,”

His brow furrowed, “What do you mean you didn’t want to go home?” But she wasn’t listening, she was tracing over his face with her fingertip, running over his nose gently, past his full lips that quivered under her touch, “Bug,” 

“Hm?” 

“What do you mean you didn’t want to go home? Why did you leave?” He asked again, and she looked back up at him with a shrug, shuffling closer to him, so close he could feel her breath fan over his cheeks. 

“I thought here with you was my home. I wanted it to be.” She said, her fingers finding their way into his nightshirt, “But I felt too guilty being so sad all the time, like I was getting my sad all over you and you couldn’t do anything about it because I was the loser girl with the dead sister you had to look after,” 

His eyes burned with emotion, and he willed himself not to cry, because suddenly it made sense why she had pulled away so fast. She looked at him like he’d hung the damn cosmos in the sky; had he not even paid attention to the letter she’d written Emily. She felt like she was dragging him down, the way she felt about everyone in her life, and decided to cut herself free before she took him with her. And look where that had landed her. 

He felt like a fool. 

“No, no,” Spencer whispered, pulling her into his arms, because he was scared that come morning she would take a million steps back and up and leave him all over again, “That’s not true, that could never happen, you hear me? I liked taking care of you, I wanted to take care of you.” 

“Really?” She asked hopefully, her face soft and dream-like, “I liked taking care of you too, when you would let me,” 

It was true he had tried to push his own feelings on the back burner, besides the few times the dam had cracked and he wound up with his head in her lap receiving the brunt of the affection that evening. He didn’t know why he ever doubted she would have wanted to do that; when he had his migraines she had done nothing but love on him until he felt full to the brim of her warmth. 

He felt himself chuckle, and she shuffled entirely into his arms then squashing out any last molecule of space left between them, and his hand slid over the back of her head, fingers rubbing softly into the nape of her neck which only made her moan loudly, entirely unaware of how sensitive her skin was from the molly. 

“That feels nice, Spencer,” She hummed, her thighs straddling his own as she squished herself against him more, “You feel so nice, I love you so much.” 

He would be lying if he  said the sounds she was making didn’t shoot straight to his dick, and hoped more than anything that she couldn’t feel how it pressed against his stomach angrily. His heart beat rattled loudly, and he swore she had to be able to hear it.

“I love you too,” Spencer sighed, wishing he could have said this to her sober. Wishing she wouldn’t shut him out so easily, wishing he’d pushed her walls a little harder. 

Then she did something he wasn’t expecting. It took all of two seconds for him to close his eyes and hum in content, where her hands were playing with the soft of his waist, and his fingertips stroked her jaw gently, but in a quick movement she planted her lips on his in a soft, sweet peck that he barely had time to register was happening before he pulled away in shock. 

She kissed him. She had kissed him. 

And he wanted her so badly, wanted her in every way it was possible to have someone, wanted to kiss her so hard his face went blue and his lips went numb and his throat burned with lack of oxygen. But he would never dare do anything when she was like this; vulnerable, intoxicated, unaware that the pill she’d taken had acted like a truth serum.

“We’re so silly,” Bugsy giggled, and for a moment she looked twenty two again, like the girl that had answered the door to him in college in nothing but her boxers and a shirt, with her metal music playing so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears minutes after she’d switched it off. She looked like his Bugsy again. 

Spencer chuckled with her incredulously, feeling his face on fire from her action, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest that had been immovable for months, because as hard as her come down would hit her, things seemed different now, like they actually had a kicking chance of getting through the grief together. 

But before he could say anything else, her eyes had fluttered shut under the warmth of his palm, and she had drifted off to sleep. 

He guessed he’d have to tell her tomorrow. 

–

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[ynsvnte]

Oh! Nerdy Boy! - Lee Heeseung

Genre: smut (18+ MDNI!!) fluff, college, classmates to fwb

word count: 1k+

warnings: unprotected sex. Fingering, nipple sucking, pet names creampie. Swearing. Teasing. Kissing

pairing: nerdtutor!hee x fem!reader

Masterlist

You tapped your pen lightly onto the table, stressing over the question. You didn’t get it and recently you’ve been failing this class. Only if you had a tutor. You could just ask the nerdy boy. Lee Heeseung, but you don’t want to seem like a loser.

“I’m failing..do I really have a choice?” You asked yourself. You were desperate to get your grade up. Having someone smart like him wouldn’t be so bad. You get up and start walking towards him. “Hey..” you spoke up. Catching Heeseung’s attention, he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” He said ever so gently. You could melt right away. “So I kind of, well not kind of, I have an offer for you..” you spoke awkwardly. Heeseung hums signaling for you to continue. “I was wondering. If you could perhaps Yknow…umm tutor me..?” You were panicking inside. Please say yes.. you thought to yourself. You were lost in your thoughts, overthinking, heeseung response cut your thoughts off.

“Sure..” Wait, really? you were shocked. “Oh my gosh! Thank you so much I’ll make sure to pay you!” Gosh you were so excited, now you don't have to seem like a disappointment to anyone.

And ever since that day heeseung has been tutoring you every week. Your grades were decent, but you still wanted to be near him. Having spent a lot of time together, made you want him closer and closer. You would try to tease him. By of course the classic wearing tiny shorts. That would have your ass barely covered with a tiny tank top, that would barely hold your tits in. Sometimes you wear normal shirts but without a bra leaving your nipples bare free for him to see.

Heeseung of course took notice of your teasing, but he never said anything. Not wanting to seem rude. But after months and months of teasing. He hasn’t done anything yet. And today will be that day. Just like any other day heeseung came over to your place where you both had the tutor sessions. He knocked on your door until you opened. With of course clothes that could barely hide your nude body as a whole. He greets you stepping foot inside and heads to the living room.

“Soo…” Heeseung says, as he sees you reach out for your laptop. He can see your panties. Smirking at the sight of them. You sit back down and open up your laptop. And so the tutor session begins. But not 15 minutes in and you’re already “dropped” your pen so you bend over reaching for it. Giving heeseung a nice view of your ass. So he takes the chance grabbing you by your hips and settles you onto his lap. Pressing his raging boner against your clit.

“You think I wouldn’t notice sweetheart..hm..?” You were speechless.. “Aweee cat got your tongue, you seem so bold to wear such skimpy clothes and yet don’t have anything to say?” He teases you. Fuck you can feel yourself getting wet. “I-I’m sorry..” Pathetic.. Heeseung would've punished you. But you look so cute and all flustered. He grabs you and flips you around, caging you between his arms while you're trapped between him and the sofa. Heeseung begins pulling down your skirt revealing your soaked panties. He also removes your top, leaving you only in your underwear. Heeseung kisses you harshly, making you moan into his mouth. The kiss doesn’t last long before heeseung goes down and starts sucking on your nipples, making you gasp.

“F-fuck..hee-“ heeseung moans onto your chest. He’s busy sucking one while his hands play with the other. Heeseung boner is raging. So he pulls away from your tits. And quickly removes his own clothes. While he’s naked and returns back to you. Gripping you panties..

“Can I?” He asked to which you nodded. He removes your panty. Heeseung smiles at the sight of your cunt. He grazes his finger on top of your cunt, collecting your wetness, before plunging in a finger inside of you. You moan out loud. Already going dumb.

“Hee- fuck feels so good…” you start playing with yours tits. Pleasure taking over your body. You. And feel your high coming really fast. To which made heeseung pull out his fingers, making you whine.

“Ah no no. You won’t be coming on my finger. Instead you’ll be coming on my cock..” Jeez this man. Heeseung grabs his cock and begins stroking the base. Moaning before he gets to your entrance..tip near he looks up at you

“You ready?” You eagerly nodded making him push himself inside of your tight hole. You gasp out loud. His size being a little above average. He still pushes until he’s fully inside of you. He waits waiting for you to get used to his size. He leans in kissing you to make you feel better. He pulls away watching your face for any sign of discomfort. That’s when you speak. “You can move..” and so he does. At first his thrusts were slow. Before he begins to pick up his pace.

“Fuck yn..such a tight little pussy, all for me..” he buries his face into your neck. The sound of skin slapping is so loud the neighbors can probably hear it. Along with your moans. Your eyes are rolling back for too much pleasure. You can feel your high coming again..

“M-hm so close..” you moan.. “Shh hold it longer for a bit…I want to cum together..” you could only nod your head. Enjoying the pleasure of his tip hitting your g-spot over and over. But sooner heeseung can feel that he is close too. “Yn..holy shit I’m close..” he speaks near your ear. He quickened his pace. Making you both moan out loud. And soon enough you feel him fill you up. You moan at the feeling of his cum inside. Also slightly cringing from it leaking out of you. Heeseung is full of sweat, but lies on your chest. Gasping for air.

“That was good…” heeseung said.. to which you only nodded your head too. He looks up at you smiling.. “This isn’t a one time thing right?” He asked you..

“No…why would it be..?” You giggled..

“Good..I loved the way your pussy was sucking me in..” he said shamelessly

“Oh my heeseung!!” You said flushed. He smiled at you enjoying your reaction.

Author’s Note: first ever smut hehe umm it’s 1 am and need to sleep so goodbye I hope you like? I suck at smut sooo bare with me PLEASE!!!

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[willow-moon-23]

German Shepherd and His Black Cat

Aaron Hotchner X Fem!Reader

Summary: The team gets a surprise when a woman storms out of Hotch's office after having an loud argument. When she keeps reappearing the team starts asking who she is.

Part 2

Word Count: 2044

The team stands around one of the desks staring at a motorcycle helmet placed on one of them. They had left for lunch not long ago and when they got back Hotch’s door was closed, there was a new object in the bullpen, and there was shouting coming from Hotch’s office. The first thing out of Morgan’s mouth when he walked in was asking if anyone knew about the motorcycle in the garage. No one knew who it belonged to.

After a very long tense shouting match, Hotch’s door flies open. In the doorway was a shorter woman with dark blue hair and in a leather jacket, combat boots, and dark make-up. “You don’t get to decide that for me, Aaron.” A woman storms out of the room, obviously mad. “It shouldn’t matter anyway.” She says, walking away from him.

“Yes, it does matter.” Hotch storms out of the room after her.

The woman turns back to him with a frustrated huff. “No, it doesn’t! You should already know my answer.” She shakes her head, walks down the steps, picks up the helmet by the front, and flips it to hold by the chin strap. “This conversation is getting nowhere. At this point, we are both just becoming irritable with each other, and it's making things worse. Call me when you have a level head, Aaron.”

She starts to walk away, but Hotch catches her arm. In less than a second and without looking at her hand, she flips her helmet so she's holding the chin and swings her arm back before she freezes. Hotch drops her arm, realizing what he did. There was a tense pause before a harsh shiver ran down her spine.

She bows her head and relaxes her entire body, her arm dropping lazily by her side. The heat dies from her voice as she speaks softly now. “Bad time to grab me like that, Aaron.” She lets out a harsh breath, shakes her head, then walks out the glass doors.

Hotch runs a harsh hand over his forehead as he watches her go. He turns to his team and sees all of them staring at him, eyes wide and all varying looks of concern.

“Hotch, did she almost swing at you?” Morgan speaks up first.

Hotch shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have grabbed her.”

“She almost swung at you!?” He reiterates.

“She wouldn’t have actually swung at me, but yes, she reacted to me grabbing her like she would have anyone else doing the same thing.” Hotch sighs and retreats to his office without another word to his team.

Once Hotch closed the door behind him, the team looked at each other, confused about what had just happened. None of them said anything for a minute before they all devolved into questions to each other to see if anyone knew who that woman was.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the conference room working on a case they had taken the day before. All of the team, including Hotch, were scouring the files not being able to make any new connections.

Morgan, who was facing the window into the bullpen happened to look up at the sight of movement. “Uh, Hotch?”

“What?” Hotch looked up at him. Before Morgan could answer the door to the room opens and the woman from before was standing there. Hotch stood up to walk up to her. She wordlessly holds out a large file for him to take. As he reaches for it she pulls it back and levels him with a glare.

“I’m not doing this for her. Gods forbid I do something because I love you and want to see you succeed in your career.” Her tone was still flat with a hint of that anger from before. “I’m still pissed at you but that doesn’t mean I’m going to keep you from doing your job.” She places the file in his hand.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t. Thank. Me.” She interrupts him. “Just do your job and come home.” With that, she turns around and leaves. Before she closes the door, she leans back in. “And just for the record, I already refused her offer. I happen to like my current job.” She closes the door behind her and walks out of the bullpen for the second time that day.

“Did she just say she loves Hotch?” Prentiss asks.

“What offer?” Reid asks.

“Drop it.” Hotch says as he sits down and begins to go through the file she gave him. Prentiss raises her hands in surrender and they all go back to their file.

Later that evening, the whole team was getting ready to head out to confront the unsub after they made a connection through the files that Hotch was given. The glass doors to the bullpen open and the same woman walks through. She walks straight up to Hotch.

“Erin told me you would be going soon.” She reaches up and adjusts the strap of his vest. “Don’t make any unnecessary moves. Keep it clean and come back to me, ok.”

Hotch nods. “I will.”

She pulls the front of his vest so he leans down to her. “I mean it, Aaron.” She sighs. “After you get back, I’m expecting you and your team at the house. Don’t be late or I will come down here and drag you all to the house. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hotch softly smiles at her.

She nods once. “Good.” she straightens up and fixes his hair once before looking him in the eyes. “Two hours.”

“Not a minute later.” Hotch finishes her sentence.

“You already have to make it up to me for this morning, better not make things worse for yourself.” She gently pushes his chest.

Hotch gently cups her cheek. “I promise to be home.”

She nods once and leans up and kisses his cheek before leaving.

“Okay, Hotch? Who is that!?” Morgan walks up to him.

“That would be my wife.” Hotch watches her get in the elevator.

“Your wife!?” Morgan glances back at her. “She looks like she could eat you alive!” He looks back at Rossi to see if he knows anything about this, Rossi shakes his head.

“She is definitely a force to be reckoned with when she’s mad. And when she's patient.” Hotch shakes his head. “Let’s go. We better make this quick.”

The arrest was quick, everyone was back at the office in less than an hour which meant Hotch had another half hour to complete his reports and head home with his team in tow.

“I hope you all are hungry.” He tells his team.

“Why?” Spencer asks.

“Because when (Y/N) gets upset with me she cooks, and she invited you all over. So I’m willing to bet there is a meal waiting for us.” Hotch pauses. “It also might be an apology for not properly introducing herself to you all because she was mad at me.”

“I’m still not over that that is his wife.” Prentiss glances at Morgan.

Hotch resists the urge to roll his eyes at her comment but motions toward the door. “We should get going. She should have everything ready by the time we get there.”

Hotch unlocks the front door and lets his team in the house. The second they walk in they are greeted by (Y/N) standing in the kitchen doorway wiping her hands. They all notice she's changed out of her riding gear and into something a bit more comfortable, a crop top and jeans. The team was surprised by many things about her, but most surprised by the amount of scars she had littering her midsection and close to her collarbone and shoulders. They also didn't expect to see a piercing with a small moon charm hanging from her belly button.

She gives them a small nod and waves them into the house. “Come in, I’m finishing everything now.” Her tone was short and slightly clipped.

Hotch walks over to her and kisses her temple. “Take it back a step, Colonel.”

She closes her eyes for a moment before looking at the team. Her voice is a touch softler now. “Apologies for my rudeness. I’m (Y/N). I actually have the upper hand in this situation, as I know who all of you are. It’s a pleasure to properly meet you all.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” JJ steps forward. “Did Hotch call you colonel?”

(Y/N) nods once. “Yes. I am a colonel in the military. I’m special forces.”

“Special forces?” Morgan asks.

“Yes. I assume your technical analysis tried to search for me earlier and found nothing?” (Y/N) raises an eyebrow at Penelope.

“How did you know?” she at least looked a little ashamed to be caught.

“My files are all hard copies, but the ones that are in the system are under lock and key and I get notified when someone tries to access them.” (Y/N) says flatly. “I can tell you more about me while we eat. Come, sit. I’ll have everything out in a moment.” (Y/N) walks back into the kitchen and leaves the team to follow Hotch to the dining room.

(Y/N) has the table set for everyone and as they all sit she brings out plates for each of them. They all thank her for the meal and begin digging in. As the meal goes on there is some lighthearted conversation before Morgan begins asking her more pointed questions.

“So how long have you two know each other?”

“Since we were kids,” (Y/N) answers after she takes a drink of her wine. “We were neighbors growing up.”

“When did you join the military?” Rossi asks.

“Right out of high school. Aaron didn’t want me to go but he knew there was no real stopping me.”

“How long have you two been married?” Prentiss jumps in.

“Three years. We decided to give ‘us’ a chance after I got back from a mission that nearly killed me. A few months after that we agreed we were both ready and married before I went back to base.”

“How does Jack feel about all of this?”

“Jack loves (Y/N).” Hotch jumps in. “He’s known her since he was born.”

“He’s the sweetest boy.” (Y/N) smiles softly. Penelope squeals at the comment. “My job doesn’t let me have a lot of moments a home lately. But you all know the hardships behind that. I’m just glad for the moments that I can be home with them.” She turns to Hotch with a gentle look.

The rest of the dinner was spent the same, the team asking her questions and her answering to her best ability. There were a few questions that she couldn’t answer because of safety concerns, but the team understood that and let it go in place of asking something else. By the time the team was satisfied with their questioning, it was well past sundown. Rossi was the first to leave, quickly followed by Reid. The other four stayed for another hour before leaving for their houses.

Hotch stood beside (Y/N) in their kitchen as she finished drying the dishes they had just done. Once she put the last bowl away Hotch gently took her hand and pulled her to face him. Her eyes softened when she faced him. Hotch pulled her close so he could wrap his arms around her.

“I’m glad they got to meet you.”

(Y/N) leans her head against his chest. “I’m glad it’s no longer a secret from them.”

Hotch runs a hand through her hair. “Agreed.”

She leans back to be able to look up at him. “I suppose the next meeting would be you and my team.”

“If you think that would be safe. I know you need the security more than I would.” Hotch looks down at her with a look of mostly concern for her safety, but with a hint of hope that he could finally meet the team she praises so much.

“Honestly, I have been thinking about it more now. After what happened on the last mission, I would want them to know you. To really know you, and not just know your name.”

“Ok, we can arrange a time to have them over.” He leans his forehead against hers.

“Ok. I’ll let my captain know.” (Y/N) grins. “The boys are going to have a field day with this.”

[alilreader]

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader, Getting Flustered

requests open!!!!!!

“This never happened, do you understand?! If I find out you mentioned this to anyone, I’ll…” prompt by thepromptswhisper

contains: idk mild smut? they makeout. gets caught. sneaking out. characters are 3rd years, 18yos. probably doesnt follow canon due to me not knowing if theyre still in dorms by 3rd year.

warnings: mild smut, snacks, teasing

You giggled to yourself, quietly of course, as you snuck through the darkened UA dorms. Excitement filled your veins as you thought about your actions.

"He's gonna love this..." you let your mind wander, as you clutched the handmade treats closer to your chest.

The truth is, you'd had a little something of a crush on a certain blonde for awhile now. He constantly crossed your mind at the most inopportune times.

That's what led you to sneaking around, just to visit his dorm, at 3am.

You'd known he was up, especially as your phone buzzed in your pajamas' pocket. No doubt a message from him. You confirmed this, as you gently removed your phone from it's place in your pocket.

💥Bakugou: Y/N, if you send me one more cat gif im going to blow you up 💥Bakugou: Serves you right going quiet on me 💥Bakugou: Y/N?

As you read the last message, you felt a twang of guilt from leaving him on delivered for so long. In reality, it'd only been about 15 minutes from his first message.

You chuckled lightly, at his clinginess. He would never admit it, but you knew deep down he cared about you to some extent.

Slowly, but surely, you eventually found your place in front of his dorm room. You rapped your fist on the door lightly, careful not to wake his neighbors.

You could hear a muffled groan from the other side, and even the clatter of objects as his footfalls neared the door. Your anxiety spiked for a split second. Had this been a bad time?

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, a grumpy looking Bakugou met your gaze. His crimson eyes softened at the sight of you, a slow blush rising to his cheeks.

You couldn't help but admire his build. His muscle glistened with sweat, the small lights littering the dorms basking him with a beautiful grace.

His bicep flexed as he held the door open, the divots catching your attention, as you followed his arm up to his face with your gaze.

"What the hell are you doing out here, dumbass?" the broad shouldered man grumbled, all the while looking mildly pleased to see you.

Your smile brightened, as you held out your goodies, a peace offering.

He scanned the box of treats, before inviting you inside, taking them in his grasp. You excitedly followed behind him, the scent of his room hitting you like a truck.

Due to his quirk, he produces a huge amount of sweat. While this is good for combat, it's rather embarrassing for his ego. For you, however, you just recognized the smell as him.

You scanned his room appreciatively, looking over the decor.

"Bakugou! I didn't know you were a collector!" you gasped, excitedly as you looked over some of his All Might merch. You knew he was a fan, but a nerd? Wow.

Before he could think much about it, munching on his new snacks, he found himself mumbling, "'S Katsuki..."

A bright blush quickly rose to his cheeks, heating him as he realized the weight of his words.

Sure, you two were close, known each other even before UA. But this was a new level of closeness.

Your grin widened at the new bond, "Right, Katsuki," you said, turning around. At the sight of him, blushing furiously, head in his hands, you couldn't help but blush yourself.

As if sensing your amusement, his flustered state turned to one of mild anger. You knew it wasn't directed at you. You couldn't help but laugh as he spat his words.

"This never happened, do you understand?! If I find out you mentioned this to anyone, I’ll…” he trailed off, thinking.

"You'll what, Katsuki?" you teased, almost jumping in place with excitement.

You were met with a growl in return, as he fought not to blow little explosions in your face. He floundered for a response, before settling on one that would fluster you just as much.

"You'll have to kiss me," he smirked, watching your face light up a cherry red.

"Um.. but to do that.. I'd have to actually tell someone... and then.. that must mean, um do you NOT want to kiss me than?" you mumbled, more to yourself thn anything as you stuttered out your response.

He grumbled at your stupidity. Of course, you'd take it literally and not as an invitation.

Without a second thought he was across the room, quickly covering the space between you. With each step he took forward, you took one back. It wasn't long before he had you pressed up against his desk.

His hands found themselves on both sides of your body, trapping you. "I see the way you look at me, always so observant. It's like you like me or something..." he whispered into your ear, sweeping your hair away.

"W-what? That's crazy!! I-I observe everyone! Equally!" he laughed, as you stumbled over your words.

He pressed a small kiss to your earlobe, so softly, you barely registered it. Your face was heated, so warm he could feel it radiating off of you.

To say you were embarrassed was an understatement.

His right hand found your chin, clasping it between his index and his thumb. You found yourself leaning into his grasp, eyes falling shut as you relaxed.

"Your face is a dead giveaway," Bakugou mumbled, with the confidence of a thousand men.

Before you could respond, or even open your eyes, you felt a hot mouth on yours, pressing you further into the desk.

His left hand found your waist, as your hands found his hair, tugging at small strands.

He nibbled your lower lip, wanting to be let in. You obliged, and found his tongue meeting yours.

The hand nestled in his hair soon found his back, as you traced every muscle. You could feel him smirking against your mouth, but all you could think about was how amazing he was at kissing you.

A twinge of jealousy filled you, as you thought about who he had practiced with. This just made you kiss him harder, a wave of possession washing over you.

Your mouths mended together as if they were made for each other. Your tongues, perfectly in sync.

His hand brought your waist closer to his navel, your chests pressed together. A moan was pulled from your throat.

As you were learning each other's bodies, you were broken apart by a knock at the door, followed by a disgruntled voice, "Break it up.. Y/N, come on out."

Your face flushed in embarrassment. "Yes, sir..."

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) — part four

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader (jeno x reader as well in this part) GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 19.8k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. here’s part four!! i hope you enjoy it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D  PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy

NEED TO CATCH UP? here’s a link to the fic masterlist :)

“Honestly? I think you’re fucked.” Seulgi announces plainly, and you gasp. “Casanova got you, and you’re hooked. It’s over for this friend group as we know it.”

“We—I’m not—girl, fuck you!” you huff, throwing a piece of popcorn at her.

“I’m right!” 

“Your pessimistic ass can sit over there and shut up while the rest of us try to fix this.” you huff, crossing your arms.

“Babe, I don’t know if this is fixable, though.” Yunjin chimes in gently, and you frown deeply. “He clearly doesn’t want to stop any time soon and, evidently, neither do you.”

“I tried,” you croak out, and Yunjin shushes you sweetly.

“I know—”

“He wanted to talk to me in person!” you bemoan, throwing your hands up.

“Should’ve said no.” Seulgi replies with a shrug, and you glare at her.

“I did, actually.”

She shrugs again, inspecting her nails. “Should’ve meant it.”

You stare at her for a moment before slowly bringing your finger up to point at her. “Now you look here, wench.”

“Wench is outrageous.” she snorts, but you ignore her.

“I’ve had enough of your mouth!”

“And I’ve had enough of the adultery, actually, yet here we are.” she counters, and you pause, shocked. “Like how much longer are we going to hear about you and Haechan sneaking around, and how much longer am I supposed to smile in that poor girl’s face like I don’t know everything I know?”

The room is silent in the wake of Seulgi’s outburst, and you look down at your hands uncomfortably. There’s nothing to say, frankly, because she’s right.

“And Chae, I’m really shocked at you; you’re the closest person to Winter and you’re okay with all this?”

Chaewon blinks, stunned by the sudden shift in attack, and discomfort settles on her face. “This isn’t about me.”

“Yeah, she’s just being a good friend—”

“To you. Don’t we think Winter could use a good friend or two?” Seulgi stresses, and you sit up in your spot on the couch.

“Seulgi, you’re literally here. You’re here! You’re here with the cheater! The adulterer, the man-stealer, and you’re here with her enabling friends and you, up until just now, have been one of the said friends!” you counter, and Seulgi just huffs, crossing her arms in her spot. “So don’t act like you’ve been against this all along when in reality your conscience developed, like, five minutes ago.” 

The air is thick with tension now after you’ve finished speaking, and it’s Seulgi’s turn to look uncomfortable.

“I just feel so bad for her.” she admits, and you sigh heavily. 

“I do, too. You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to fight this. He’s just so…”

“Annoying?”

“Insistent?”

“Irritating?”

“Determined.” you settle on, rolling your eyes at your friends’ unhelpful suggestions. “He’s determined. He’s confident practically every single time he comes up to me that he’s gonna get me and, I don’t know, I guess it makes my resolve waver.”

“I feel like if you didn’t like him, this wouldn’t be an issue. It’d be a hell of a lot easier to reject the advances of a man you decidedly do not want.” Seulgi says, sounding much calmer than before, and some of the tension in the room dissipates.

“I feel like we established she likes him, like, the night before she tried to end things.” Chaewon chimes in, and you immediately exclaim in protest.

“I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to.” Yunjin interjects, looking at you with a “duh” expression. “It was obvious.”

“To everyone but me, I guess.” you mutter petulantly, and your imminent sulking session is interrupted when all of your phones go off around the same time, and you all look at each other in confusion. You reach for your phone and open it, reading the notification. “Speak of the devil.” you chuckle as your friends open their phones to see Haechan’s message to the group chat.

haechan [20:09] guys my job gave me a voucher for a free wine tasting and i can bring friends 😎 who wants to go with me tomorrow?

“Oh, a wine tasting sounds fun,” Chaewon says, intrigued, and you purse your lips in thought.

“I don’t know if we should get two secret lovers in the same friend group tipsy at the same time.” Seulgi says slowly, and you frown at her.

“It’s a couple glasses of wine,” you explain with a roll of your eyes, “not twelve shots of Casamigos.”

Your phones go off again, and you all read the new reply.

winter [20:12] ooh that sounds fun! i’m down after work :)

“Well…we could leave it as a date for them?” Yunjin tries hopefully, looking around at you all. 

jeno [20:14] sure i’m in

mark [20:15] me too

[chenle liked “me too”]

chenle [22:17] what car is gonna take all our tipsy asses home?

“Well, so much for that.” Yunjin sighs in defeat. 

seulgi [22:18] there are uber xls that can fit 9 passengers :)

“Seulgi, you’re not helping!” Yunjin scolds, and she frowns up at you all.

“I supplied key and relevant information. I helped.” she replies stubbornly. “Plus, I like wine.”

chaewon [22:20] i’m excited :p

“So, we’re not even consulting each other anymore?” you remark incredulously, narrowing your eyes at Chaewon, who sticks her tongue out at you. “Fine.”

you [22:23] yeah yeah yeah drank in my cup or whatever kirko bangz said

you [22:23] what time are we thinking of going?

haechan [22:24] we’ll all be done with work by 6:00, right? why not meet up somewhere and take an uber to get there by 6:30? it’s a little out of the way but it’s good stuff trust me

yunjin [22:26] sounds good to me. can we meet up at your place, haechan?

chenle [22:27] excuse me i live there too 

chenle [22:27] MY NAME IS ON THE LEASE AGREEMENT

yunjin [22:29] who are you yelling at? 😒

chenle [22:29] ………………………..no one 😞

[yunjin liked “………………………..no one 😞”]

“Okay, well, now that’s happening.” you mutter, locking your phone.

“You really can’t catch a break, huh?” Yunjin laughs, but it sounds a bit sad, her brows furrowed sympathetically.

“Apparently not.” you mumble defeatedly, drumming your fingers on your knee. Your phone goes off again, and you look around, but apparently it’s just yours this time and, after checking it, you sigh softly.

haechan [22:32] can’t wait to see you tomorrow 💖

“Definitely not, actually.” you say to yourself.

The vineyard itself is beautiful, the beautiful, sunny spring day only enhancing its majesty, and it’s all you can do not to marvel openly at the wooden yet elegant architecture and the seemingly endless rows of wine grapes to be harvested.

”You’re gonna catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that.” Haechan murmurs playfully as you all follow the hostess to your table.

“Oh, hush,” you huff, but you close your mouth nonetheless. You reach your table, which is long, wooden, and oval-shaped, and all of you move to sit, with you ending up between Mark and, unsurprisingly, Haechan.

The hostess passes out a leaflet to each of you and explains, “Our wine tasting is a bit more interactive than most; you can make selections on the leaflet of which wines you’d like to try for which rounds, and the notes of each wine is listed below for your consideration. We’ll give you all a moment to make your selections and one of our servers will come back and collect them so we can get started.”

As you fill out your leaflet, you can’t help but feel Haechan’s nosy eyes peering over your shoulder at your choices.

”This isn’t a test, Haechan, you don’t need to copy me.” you snicker, and he just sticks his tongue out at you and continues to observe you, making you increasingly more unsettled and ready to snap by the minute. It’s when Haechan makes a disapproving hum at your next selection that you set your pen down and turn to face him.

”Can I help you, Judgy Pants?” you ask, and he offers a small secretive smile in return.

”Do you trust me?” he asks, and you pause.

”Not particularly.” you say slowly, and he winces. “Why?”

“First of all, ouch.” he complains, placing a hand over his chest like he’s been wounded, and you giggle. “Second of all, we’re at a wine tasting and wine is literally my job and field of expertise, so… do you trust me to pick your wines for you?”

Your brows furrow slightly before you say, “I mean, I haven’t told you anything about what I like and don’t like in wine.”

”So?” he asks, shrugging.

”So,” you continue, rolling your eyes, “how would you have any idea what I’d like?”

It’s apparently Haechan’s turn to roll his eyes as he regards you, murmuring, “You think that with all the time I spend focused—no, fixated—on you, I would have absolutely no idea of what you might like to drink?”

You balk at his plain, unashamed admission and feel warmth starting to bloom in your cheeks. “Okay,” you finally agree. “Well, in that case, go for it.” 

You move to pass him your leaflet, but he just leans over, bogarting your personal space, and remains unreasonably close as he circles the wines he thinks you’ll like. Whether he notices the way you inhale sharply and stiffen in place or not, he doesn’t comment, seemingly focused on filling out your leaflet.

The server arrives shortly after to collect all of your leaflets and leaves once more to bring out your first round of wines, returning a couple of moments later with two trays of drinks which she gingerly sets down in the center of your table before passing out each wine glass individually.

As you bring your glass to your lips, Haechan watches intently, brows raised in anticipation. The wine is delicious—it’s sweet and bubbly and fruity and you smile subconsciously, unknowingly provoking a relieved and satisfied grin from Haechan.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” he asks knowingly, and you nod excitedly, sipping eagerly at the glass again but slowly enough that you can still savor it. 

“That really was so good,” you hum, content as you finish the last of your glass and set it down earlier than everyone—except for Mark, who set his down on the table moments earlier after chugging the half-filled glass like it was a red Solo cup of jungle juice.

”Mark, you know you’re supposed to sip it, right?” you ask with a small laugh, and Mark grins sheepishly.

“My bad,” he chuckles.

Gradually, the rest of your friends finish their first drink, and the server comes around to collect your glasses.

”How was your first round?” she asks hopefully, and your voices all overlap as you tell her how good it was. “That’s great to hear! I’ll be right back with your second round, and feel free to let me know if you need any water or anything like that.”

When she leaves, Haechan turns to face you with a wide, proud grin. “Did I do a good job or what?”

“You did,” you confirm. Haechan takes an almost unnoticeable deep breath, a preparatory one as if he’s about to cheer or get loud in some other manner, and you continue on quickly before he gets the chance. “I just hope the next ones are good, too.”

“They’ll be even better,” Haechan assures you confidently, and you hum skeptically. 

“We’ll have to see about that.”

The next wine, like Haechan predicted, is even better than the first. It’s slightly drier, with an aftertaste of raspberry, and you find yourself wishing you hadn’t finished it so quickly.

”Don’t look so smug,” you laugh as he smiles at you, radiating self-satisfaction from his proud, puffed-out chest.

“Can’t help it,” he replies confidently. “I love being good at my job.”

“Man, next time we should go to a beer tasting,” Jeno pipes up, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“You know, I’ve always thought beer tasted like pee.” you remark thoughtfully, and Jeno snorts in amusement. 

“I’ve never tasted pee to know for sure.” he replies, and you frown deeply.

“Well, of course I haven’t tasted pee! But you know how sometimes smells get stuck in the back of your throat and you can kinda taste it? When I taste beer, it makes me think of pee.” you defend yourself, and Haechan nods from beside you.

“It does taste funny.” he echoes, and you smile, feeling vindicated.

“See? It’s not just me.” you add on, and Jeno chuckles.

“Maybe you haven’t had the right beer yet,” he suggests, and you shrug.

“I guess I haven’t.” you agree slowly. “I do know that these wines are crazy good.”

“Did you just have the one with raspberry notes?” Chaewon asks curiously, and you nod eagerly. 

“Isn’t it so good?!” you exclaim excitedly, and Haechan laughs from beside you.

“It’s delicious,” she confirms happily. “Matter of fact—where’d she go?”

As Chaewon starts attempting to flag down your hostess for another glass of the wine, you look over at Haechan, who’s already looking at you with a fond expression on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you giggle, and he sits forward to murmur in your ear. 

“You’re cute when you’re tipsy.” When you suck your teeth at him dismissively in response, he reaches to clutch your leg under the table, making you stiffen in place. “Such a mouth on you,” he muses thoughtfully. “I’m so nice to you, and you’re mean to me like this?” His pout is audible in his voice, as is his amusement.

You can’t help but giggle at his playful tone, but you do manage to reply with, “I’m not mean! And I’m not tipsy!”

“Oh, yeah?” he challenges softly, his fingers stroking your inner thigh with a slow furling and unfurling of his fingers. “Prove it.” 

“Which part?”

“Both. Be nice to me and do a sobriety test.” he replies, and you snort far too loudly to be discreet.

“Shush, Haechan. Chae, look, the hostess is coming back!” you direct your friend’s attention to your approaching hostess, who smiles when she makes eye contact with you. “I barely feel anything,” you whisper to Haechan, who gently pinches your inner thigh in lieu of a verbal response.

“You will in a bit.” he replies confidently, and you glower in his direction.

“Whatever.”

You’re on your fourth cup of wine, all of them having tasted dangerously like juice, and you can’t lie, you’re starting to feel it.

You’re gigglier than usual, more playful, and Haechan picks up on it with a keen raise of his brows. You look at Haechan’s cup longingly after you finish yours, and he shakes his head.

”You’re not gonna like it.” 

“Lemme try it and see for myself,” you insist, and he chuckles fondly, shaking his head in amusement before shrugging in defeat and passing you the cup, your fingers curling around the cup and over his hand.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a little hard-headed?” he asks lightheartedly, and you pause to think.

“Yes. And stubborn, and defiant.” you recall, and he lets out a low whistle.

“What about a brat, huh? Anyone ever call you that?” he asks with raised brows and you narrow your eyes.

“Besides you? No, actually.”

“Aw,” Haechan coos fondly. “I was your first.”

“Let’s not make it weird,” you warn him, and he wiggles his eyebrows flirtatiously.

“Let’s actually make it super weird,” he proposes with a suggestive grin, and you step on his foot under the table. “Ow!”

“Hush so I can focus on this wine.” you scold him, just now realizing he never let go of the glass and you two have essentially been holding hands this whole time. It’s not the realization that makes you feel butterflies, it’s the subsequent realization that you like it. 

You don’t know if the wine is starting to think for you, but you genuinely want to hold Haechan’s hand for just a moment longer.

“Then focus,” Haechan says, gesturing with his free hand for you to try the drink in your hand.

You take a tentative sniff first, suppose the drink smells sweet enough, and take a careful sip, immediately wrinkling your nose at the too fizzy, too bitter taste spreading across your tastebuds. You thrust the glass back into Haechan’s proximity with a grimace as he laughs, but you don’t let go of it yet, still trying to steal more intimate moments with him with your hand enveloping his.

“Man, that was a lot.” you say with a frown. Haechan shrugs as if to say, “I told you so!”

“I knew you weren’t going to like it.” he reminds you, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t get how you like it.” you say with an accusing tone, and he snorts in amusement. 

“I like it bitter and sharp sometimes,” he explains. “I like how… invigorating it feels.”

“Blech,” you gag, and he narrows his eyes at you playfully before bringing the glass to his lips for a sip, your arm gently being tugged along as he switches the positioning of your hands so his is outside of yours. He grants you mercy for a moment, breaking eye contact to watch as he turns his cup this way and that.

Before you can ask what he’s looking for, you both spot it at the same time—your lip gloss mark left on the rim of the wine glass, and you watch, mesmerized, as he deliberately places his lips exactly over your lip gloss stain and takes a long sip.

You think you might actually melt into the floor at the rate that your body is heating up with a fiery blend of embarrassment, bashfulness, and—to be honest—desire.

If the indirect kiss wasn’t enough, when he pulls his lips from the glass, he shifts your joined grip on the glass so subtly you almost miss it, and presses a flirtatious, lingering kiss to your hand just between your second and third knuckles, dropping one eyelid into a small wink for good measure.

Your breath catches in your throat, and now you think you actually would like to melt into the floor—anything to escape the so-consuming-it’s-almost-overwhelming experience that is having Haechan’s undivided attention. 

As if he could read minds, Haechan’s eyes light up in realization, and you practically feel your heart drop.

“Are you getting shy right now?” he asks curiously.

“No?” you reply immediately, your heart starting to thud harder in your chest as his eyes twinkle with mischief and satisfaction.

“You answered that way too quickly.” Haechan points out, his smile widening into a wolfish grin. “Am I making you shy, baby?” His voice is soft and low, teasing and suggestive, and you frown deeply. “You know, you’re very cute when you’re shy.”

He’s got his eyes trained unwaveringly on you and you keep looking at him and away, your gaze darting all around in a desperate attempt to save yourself from this interaction.

“I’m not shy,” you mumble, your body betraying you as you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Oh, yeah? If you’re not shy, then look me in the eyes.” Haechan challenges quietly, and you, after a moment (too long) and with poorly concealed difficulty, comply, staring him squarely in the eyes.

“See? I’m unaffected by… whatever it is you’re doing,” you lie, confusion blooming when he breaks out into a radiant, teasing toothy grin.

“I’m not doing anything, baby.” His eyes twinkle, his smile dazzles, and for a moment you wonder if he could blind you with how radiant his aura is. Leaning in closer, he licks his lips, flicks his gaze down to your lap and back up to your face, and continues, “I think you just like me.”

It takes absolutely every nerve in your body not to react with the indignant splutter you have locked and loaded for him, instead choosing to stay silent and look confused so as not to draw attention to you two. 

For a moment, you wonder how no one’s noticed you two, but when you scan your friends’ tipsy, dopey smiles and glazed over eyes as they all seem to have split off into smaller conversations, you realize they’re juggling numerous distractions, leaving you and Haechan free to do… whatever this is.  

“You’re silly.” you counter him with a dismissive roll of your eyes, and Haechan raises his eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“And you’re still holding my hand.”

You look down with a jolt and realize that, yes, you most certainly are still holding Haechan’s hand and have been holding it for approximately… too long to play off as nothing.

“I didn’t even realize,” you marvel quietly, and he nods with an understanding expression that borders on smug.

“I just make you that comfortable, huh? You like me that much, huh?” he teases, and you grouch and grumble under your breath, snatching your hand from his (and regretting it instantly).

”I’m going to the bathroom.” you announce, standing from the table without warning and wobbling slightly as you try to catch your balance.

Haechan and Mark both steady you with Mark’s cautious hand on your side and Haechan’s secure grip on your hip.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely.

“Wait, I’m coming,” Yunjin pipes up, seemingly appearing out of nowhere from your left. She was not a part of the scan you did on your friends because one look at her and you’re on edge all over again, because she looks very much like she has her wits about her, like she’s barely had a glass of wine, and, most importantly as indicated by the keen glint in her eye, like she has something important to say to you. She makes her way over to your side of the table, looping her arm with yours and guiding you towards the hanging sign indicating the location of the bathrooms. 

The bathroom door has barely shut before Yunjin turns to look at you with her shrewd gaze.

You can’t help but feel small under her stare. “Yes?”

“Girlypop, you look like you’re in love with him. Like I truly hate to break it to you, but you look smitten.”

“I am not!” you splutter indignantly, and she raises her eyebrows skeptically.

“You couldn’t even make eye contact with him earlier.” she points out simply, and you balk.

“You saw that?” you squeak pathetically, and she nods. “Ugh, okay, maybe I am a little smitten.”

She snorts. “Maybe?”

“Shush,” you huff. “What am I gonna do?” you wail, and it’s her turn to shush you, cupping your face in her hands.

“It’s okay, bunny bee. We’re gonna figure this out,” she assures you, and you nod lamely. “In the meantime, try to keep your distance.”

You nod in agreement and she smiles comfortingly, linking arms with you once more and leading you both back to the table. When you approach, Yunjin slips in front of you and takes your old seat, much to Haechan’s surprise, and you follow suit, sitting in her previous spot between Chaewon and Chenle.

Haechan is clearly not over your last conversation, the male sitting across from you making eyes at you as if daring you to look back at him. Your gazes connect several times, each time leaving him more triumphant than before and leaving you infinitely closer to unraveling entirely and dissolving into what would be, frankly, an embarrassing fit of girlish giggles.

The rest of the wine tasting goes by without any incident, Haechan’s wine selections for you making for a very palatable round of drinks, and a couple of you even take home a bottle of your favorite one, thanking the staff and bidding them goodbye as you wait for your Uber home to arrive.

When it arrives, you all start filing in without any rhyme or reason, the nine of you throwing strategy to the wind as you enter the Kia Carnival and settle down. It takes a couple of moments for you to realize as the seats fill up that, firstly, the seats next to you are still empty and, secondly, that Haechan is not yet in the car. 

At what feels like the very last moment, Haechan slips into the seat beside you, the side of his leg pressed up against yours as you all get situated.

As your driver pulls off and easy conversation starts among you all, you can barely focus on anything other than Haechan—how warm he feels beside you, how good he smells, how comforting and exciting his mere presence is, and it hits you in the moment just how much you really like him as you stare wordlessly down at your lap.

The realization is practically staggering, your world feeling like it’s falling apart at the seams all because you can’t keep yourself away from your friend’s boyfriend. It was easier when you thought it was just sexual, to be honest, but ever since that day at the museum and the way he looked at you—you think you might have been a goner from the beginning.

You feel doomed. You feel doomed, and stuck, and frustrated, and deeply overwhelmed, and you don’t know how to fix the absolute shit show you’ve gotten yourself into. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until a tear falls onto your hand, and you blink in surprise before wiping the tear on your leg and quickly swiping the next one from your eye before it can drop as subtly as possible. 

Unfortunately, Haechan notices your small gesture and looks over at you, growing concern written plainly on his face. 

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it after a vehement shake of your head. He frowns, worry all over his handsome features as your bottom lip threatens to tremble with the weight of your unshed tears. 

He pulls out his phone and types something into an empty note in his Notes app before tilting his screen so you can see.

What’s wrong?

You shake your head dismissively, trying even harder now not to cry from the gentle concern he’s showing you. He types something else and turns it to show you again.

Can I help at all?

You shake your head again, a small sniffle slipping out despite your best efforts to hold it back, and alarm takes over his face before he frowns deeply and locks his phone, setting it back on his lap and drumming his fingers on his knee anxiously.

You don’t expect him to persist in trying to comfort you, so it comes as even more of a shock when he slips his hand between your bodies and turns it up in a silent offering. 

You pause for a moment before slowly linking your fingers with his and hoping he can’t feel the way your hand trembles.

He curls his fingers around yours in a warm, reassuring gesture, and it takes everything in you not to burst into tears at the whole situation—his kindness, his loveliness, your growing affections for him, and your immense guilt about coming in the middle of his and Winter’s relationship.

All you can do at the moment is sit silently until the Uber drops off you and Yunjin, at which point you plan to fall into her arms weeping—or something like that. Until you can do that, however, you’re stuck in this car secretly holding hands with Haechan, who, to his credit, doesn’t let go of your hand not once.

It’s not until you have to exit the car that he finally releases you with a reassuring squeeze, and as you and Yunjin make your way to your apartment, you can’t shake the feeling that you wish he hadn’t. 

As you get ready for bed, you think about your dilemma for what feels like ages, pondering how this could have happened to you, when it hits you—you really were doomed from the beginning. 

The night you two met, there were unmistakable sparks, and, at the time, it was the closest you’d come to feeling truly connected to someone. You hate to say it, but you wish he and Winter never dated so you could have him without feeling guilty. No matter how hard you tried to fight it, the chemistry was undeniable.

If everything happens for a reason, what on Earth could be the reason for this?

It’s not until you get into your bed and are rubbing your legs together, not unlike a cricket, to get comfortable that you realize that the only lesson the universe could possibly be teaching you is that you only live once. You’ve ruled out the lesson being restraint and self-control because, frankly, your whole life has been a testament to denying yourself various pleasures, and maybe Haechan was right that first night; maybe some risks are worth the reward. 

Finally drifting off to sleep, you feel a bit more at ease with your decision. You’ve spent your whole life being good; maybe it’s time to be a little selfish and have fun with Haechan for as long as you can before… well, you don’t particularly know what will happen, but for one of the first times, you’re willing to find out.

As you walk down the hallway to Mark’s and Jeno’s apartment, the music grows louder and louder and you can’t help but feel bad for their neighbors as the party only really just kicked off at 11:00pm.

Seconds after you knock, the door opens and some guy you only vaguely recognize ushers you in with a weirdly focused stare and unnerving grin.

“Who put rando in charge of party entry?” you mumble as you, Yunjin, and Chaewon link arms and start to make your way to the kitchen to get refreshments and hopefully some quiet to gather your thoughts.

As Chaewon raids the fridge, you root through the cabinet until you find the pack of Capri Suns you’re looking for, fishing out two and handing one to Yunjin.

“Score,” Chaewon whispers, eyes lighting up when she pulls a Sunny-D drink from the fridge.

“Your obsession with our childhood drinks must be studied.” Yunjin chuckles, sipping from the Capri Sun you gave her before downing two of the nips of Tito’s she brought with her.

“It helps heal my inner child,” she huffs defensively, taking a large gulp and sighing contently.

“Does the healing come before or after the Casamigos?” you ask wryly, and her eyes narrow in your direction. “Just curious!”

“You guys made it!” Mark cheers, startling the three of you as he enters the kitchen. “We were worried you two got too high to leave the house.” he explains, gesturing at Yunjin and Chaewon, who splutter defensively.

“We did not!” they insist, but Mark looks at you for the truth.

“They didn’t!” you defend them, and they nod proudly.

(You catch Mark’s eye privately and nod in confirmation. “They did.” you mouth. “But I saved us.”

“I know.” Mark agrees silently. “Thank you,” he says sincerely, and you giggle quietly.)

“Are you guys having a good time so far? Have you been here long?” Mark asks, and you shoot him a thumbs up.

“No, we just got here, actually.” you explain, your phone distracting you by buzzing in your back pocket. You pull it out to check it, a secretive smile making its way onto your lips when you read the name on the message notification.

haechan [22:08] hey you here yet?

You look up from your phone to Mark’s scrutinizing gaze, making you frown and shake your head to dismiss him.

“It’s nothing.” you assure him, and he narrows his eyes for a moment before relenting and focusing his attention on Chaewon, who’s gone on another search through their fridge, this time for snacks.

you [22:10] yeah in the kitchen w mark yunjin n chae

His reply is instant. 

haechan [22:10] bet

Excitement builds, a slow drum crescendo in your stomach as you anticipate seeing Haechan; what he might be wearing, how his hair is styled, his scent, and the way his voice lilts when he talks to you specifically—

“Hello?” Mark snickers, waving a hand in your face to get your attention. You snap out of your reverie and Mark rolls his eyes but smiles fondly. “Welcome back. You sure you didn’t take a hit, too?”

“Positive.” you snort, and he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Yeah, well—wait.” you cut yourself off mid-retort, looking around the room. “Where’d Yunjin go?”

“She probably went to go find everyone else,” Chaewon pipes up, now snacking on edible cookie dough and leaning into your side.

“True. Let’s go find her,” Mark offers, and you agree instantly, leaving the kitchen in a single file line with your hand wrapped around Chaewon’s. 

To no one’s surprise, as soon as you leave the peace and quiet of the kitchen, you three are separated almost instantly, leaving you alone in the middle of the packed living room and your friends scattered amongst the crowd. 

As you walk by a group of people in search of your friends, an arm loops around your waist and pulls you into their body. You don’t even flinch, already recognizing the person’s embrace as you curl into Haechan’s chest and smile up at him.

“Hi, handsome.” you coo, and he grins, running his free hand through his hair casually.

“Hey, baby. You look amazing,” he compliments, and your cheeks warm. “I went to the kitchen a minute ago to find you, but you weren’t there.” he says with a devastatingly attractive pout.

“I was trying to track down where Yunjin went! Then when we left the kitchen, I lost Chaewon and Mark, too.” you reply with a frown of your own.

“I just saw Yunjin by the balcony talking to some dude.” Haechan says, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in her general direction. “She seems okay.”

“Okay,” you say, letting out a relieved sigh.

“How are you, though?” Haechan asks with a hint of worry, and you remember the way you left things with him after crying in the cab home from the wine tasting. “What was wrong the other night?”

“Oh, um. It was nothing, actually. I was thinking about a really, uh, sad video I saw the other day and it got to me again.” you explain hesitantly, and Haechan lifts one eyebrow skeptically.

“Oh, really?” he challenges, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Yes, really.” you counter, and you two stare at each other with loaded gazes before he breaks it, raising his hands in surrender.

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” he relents, and you smile triumphantly. “But, baby, do me a favor,” Haechan continues, looking around behind you, and you tilt your head to the side curiously.

“What is it?”

“Ignore Jeno tonight.” he states, and you raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

“You’re kidding, right?” you say flatly, and he shakes his head. “Okay, so you’re gonna flirt with me all night, right? And ignore Winter?”

“Well, you know I can’t do that,” he replies slowly.

You most definitely did know that, and his answer only helps to prove your point. So why do his words feel like a bucket of ice cold water being poured on your head? 

You attempt to shake it off internally, so you just nod slowly to his words, waiting for him to catch on.

“So it’s fair that you get to play around all night, but I get nothing?” you huff, pulling back from him slightly, and his grip tightens around your waist. “Yeah, no.”

“No?” he echoes, furrowing his brows in surprise and confusion.

“No.” you confirm, looking up at him. “I’m gonna flirt with Jeno.”

“You’re gonna flirt with him.” Haechan echoes flatly in disbelief, and you nod, patting his chest. “That’s even worse. I don’t want to share you with him.”

“Wh–and you think I want to share you with her?” you whisper heatedly, and he shoots you a warning look.

“That’s not the same.” 

“Bullshit.” you retort, and he groans under his breath. “As a matter of fact,” you say, extracting yourself from his embrace, “let me go enjoy my night.”

“Are you mad at me?” Haechan asks, incredulous, and you look back at him like he’s stupid.

“Guess.” you reply shortly before turning on your heel and venturing further into the party and farther away from Haechan.

“You know…” you sigh, leaning against the wall, “I haven’t seen Jeno all night.”

Seulgi shoots you a funny look. “Didn’t you just get here, like, thirty minutes ago?”

You glower back at her. “Well, yes, but it’s his place. Why is he not running out and about and amok in the living room for my viewing pleasure?”

“Since when have you looked away from Haechan long enough to notice Jeno was missing?” Seulgi questions, regarding you carefully. At your expression, she raises her eyebrows. “Trouble in paradise?”

“No,” you quip back shortly.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” she says with a shrug, and you sigh loudly.

“Well…”

“What is it?” she presses gently, and you frown.

“Haechan told me not to talk to Jeno tonight.” you explain, and her brows shoot up in surprise.

“Did he say why?”

“I feel like we both know why. The jealousy was implied.” you sniff, turning your nose up. 

“He’s got some nerve.” she chuckles in surprise, and you nod vigorously.

“He’s got some fucking nerve, right?!” you agree, and she rubs your back comfortingly.

“So what did you say?” she asks, and you balk.

“Well, I pointed out the double standard.” you say slowly. 

Seulgi arches an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“...I said he should ignore Winter, then.” you mutter quietly, and she shoots you an incredulous glare. “It was to point out that he can’t ask me to do something like that!”

“Yeah, okay, but what if he was like ‘bet,’ and ignored Winter all night in favor of you? Well—” Seulgi looks off into the distance for a brief moment in contemplation. 

“Shut up.” You already know where she’s going with this.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Shut up!”

“I’m right!”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“He literally has.” Seulgi reminds you.

“He didn’t do it today.” you counter with a stubborn frown.

“Well, maybe we should stop focusing on what he didn’t do and worry about what you’re going to do.” she supplies helpfully.

You nod slowly. “You’re right.”

“I know.” She leans back against the wall, pleased with herself.

“Wow, and so humble, too.” you drawl, and she giggles.

“I’m gonna… flirt with Jeno, for starters.”

“Maybe he can help take your mind off of Haechan!” she suggests, and you nod slowly, the nod becoming more pronounced as your conviction grows stronger.

“You’re so right.”

“I know,” Seulgi replies, again, to your mild irritation and amusement. “It’s one of my many charms.”

“Can you stop stroking your own ego for twelve minutes?” you chuckle with a roll of your eyes, and she pauses thoughtfully.

“Hey, Siri?” she calls out, pulling her phone from her back pocket. 

“Uh-huh?” her phone replies.

“Set a timer for twelve minutes.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” you snort, and she shakes her head.

“Your timer is set for twelve minutes.” Siri responds, and Seulgi locks her phone and places it back in her pocket.

“You’re not gonna thank her?” you ask, confused.

Seulgi shoots you another funny look. “She’s not real.”

“She’s real to me. And if the robots and technology ever revolt, don’t you want to be known as a human with manners? Maybe they’d spare you!”

Giving you a long, blank stare, Seulgi shakes her head and sighs. “I don’t know what goes on in your head sometimes.”

After Seulgi leaves to go take a hit on the terrace, you head down the hallway towards the kitchen for snacks, stopping shortly when you see a familiar figure sitting on the floor against the wall, knees tucked to her chest and resting her forehead against her knees.

“Winter?” you ask curiously, stepping closer. “Are you alright?”

She looks up at you with a bleary-eyed, weak smile. “Hey.”

“Hey…” you say carefully, trying to evaluate the situation and figure out what’s wrong. Did Haechan break up with her or something? Pushing aside the sick rush of excitement you felt after thinking that, you continue with, “Winter, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbles tiredly, rubbing her temples. “I just have a raging headache.”

“Oh, no,” you hum, worried. “You want some painkillers? It’s ibuprofen, 600 milligrams. I use them for cramps and they work like a charm!”

“Yes, please, actually.” she agrees with relief written all over her face.

“Okay, come with me.” you say, gently taking her hand to help her to her feet. You let her lean on you slightly as you make your way to the kitchen to get her something to drink. “You know you have to eat something, too, right? You shouldn’t take it on an empty stomach.”

“Okay,” she sighs weakly. 

“Here, sit right here.” you guide her to a chair by the kitchen island and set about finding her a suitable snack. You give up on the junk food and decide to raid their fridge, finding just enough ingredients to make her a turkey, lettuce, and cheese sandwich. “You want mayonnaise on your sandwich?”

“Mm, no, thank you,” she says weakly, resting her head on the countertop. “It’s so much quieter in here.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine the booming bass being good for your headache.” you reply sympathetically, and she shakes her head gingerly.

“The music caused it,” she explains. “Sometimes I really hate parties.”

“Really?” you reply, slightly shocked, but then you pause to really think about it and realize she’s right; she rarely suggests going to parties, merely just tagging along when you all decide to go to one.

“Yeah, I prefer just relaxing at home, but I go because all of you guys go and Haechan…”

Your ears perk up. “Haechan…?”

“Haechan loves parties and hanging out. It’s so funny that he loves going out so much, but he always stays in with me when I ask him to. He’s so sweet.”

You think back to the tight-lipped smile he gave Winter when she asked him to take her home the evening you guys went to the museum, and wince internally. If he’s staying home, it’s definitely not by choice.

“You guys have fun together, huh?” you say bleakly, and she nods with a small smile.

“He’s so funny and I love laughing at how silly he is.” she gushes, and you set the plate with her sandwich down on the table, her head perking up. “Sometimes I wonder how we work so well in spite of our differences. Maybe it’s the ‘opposites attract’ phenomenon.”

“Well, what else is there? He’s a party animal and you’re a homebody.” you say, curious.

“He’s such a free spirit, and I’m… more grounded, I think. I think I keep his head from going too far in the clouds, y’know?” she says quietly around a mouthful of sandwich.

“I see, I see.” This is downright painful to hear for you, honestly, but you’re not sure if it hurts more that she has him and you don’t or that Winter’s oblivious to their incompatibility.

“And he’s more of a night owl, but I like waking up early, but he still wakes up early just to hang out with me,” she sighs dreamily, eyes focused on her sandwich and therefore completely missing the disbelieving look you shoot her way.

“So if he goes to bed late at night, and wakes up early to be with you… when does he get to rest?” you ask carefully, and Winter screws up her face thoughtfully.

“Huh. I never really thought about it like that.”

Of course you didn’t. Because you think of Haechan as some sort of prop or accessory you can equip whenever you feel like it. He’s a living, breathing human being that might not want to wake up early every time you feel like it.

You don’t say any of that, though.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. Not wanting to ruin the atmosphere, you continue with, “I mean, if those are all the differences you have, you guys could be pretty okay!”

“Well, then there’s the affection thing.” she says slowly, and you nod, already knowing where she’s going.

“If he’s too affectionate, like in public and stuff, you can try talking to him about it!” you suggest helpfully, but Winter looks at you in confusion.

“Too affectionate? Girl, he doesn’t even like holding my hand in public.” she chuckles hollowly, and you blink, stunned.

So you definitely did not know where she was going with her earlier statement.

“He’s… not… affectionate with you?” you ask slowly and carefully, and she shakes her head.

“He says PDA makes him feel weird.” she says with a shrug, and you blink at her again, baffled.

Nothing about that man gives “not affectionate” when he’s with you. As a matter of fact, you’re usually drowning in his affection, so for Winter to say he’s distant with her makes you feel… guilty? 

“Oh,” you mumble quietly, and that’s all you can really say for the moment. 

Winter, oblivious yet again to her emotional surroundings, sets down the crusts of the sandwich you prepared for her and sighs in relief. “I feel a little better already, actually!”

“That’s great!” you say, eager to change the topic. “Do you still want painkillers?”

“Yes, please.” she replies immediately, reaching her hand out. You fish out your little prescription bottle of painkillers and shake one into her hand, placing a glass of water on the table beside her plate. “You’re the best,” she compliments, relieved, and you shake your head to yourself in silent disagreement, the gesture unnoticed by Winter.

If only she knew.

Walking through the party, you soon run into the very person Haechan asked you to ignore tonight. You smile up at Jeno, who grins and pulls you closer to him as you two start to move to the beat of the song coming through the speakers.

Your hips sway together rhythmically and Jeno leans down to your ear, murmuring, “I was hoping I’d run into you.” 

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?” you hum curiously, resting your forearms on his chest and peering up at him.

“I always hope to see you,” he defends himself, and you raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“And we’re sure this has everything to do with that and nothing to do with you wanting me to see you tonight in your slutty little crop top?” you tease, and his cheeks redden as he shoots a bashful grin down to the floor.

“It’s not slutty!” he splutters defensively despite his laughter, and you shoot him an unimpressed blank stare.

“It’s a slutty, slutty top, Jeno,” you confirm, trailing one finger down from the space between his collarbones to where his stomach is revealed. “I didn’t even know you got down like that,” you confess, and his ears blush to match his cheeks.

“I don’t!” he squawks indignantly.

“Aw, man,” you sigh, feigning disappointment. “That’s a shame.” 

Jeno regards you carefully. “Why is that?”

“I was just gonna ask you how slutty you can get.” you murmur softly, looking up at him with a growing mischievous grin.

“Well, in that case,” he replies with a matching smile, “I can get pretty slutty.”

”Mm, yeah?” you muse, draping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. “Show me.”

As if he was waiting for the cue, he leans in and teases your lips apart with gentle grazes of his own, waiting until you’re at peak anticipation before surging forward and connecting your lips with a soft sigh of relief.

His lips move against yours eagerly, poorly restrained excitement practically vibrating through his body as he winds his arms around your lower back and draws you in closer, his warm, musky fragrance enveloping you. 

He presses kiss after kiss to your lips, obliging every time you chase after his lips for another one with a small fond chuckle and a quiet, content grunt. Jeno pulls back from the liplock with an air of reluctance, scanning your expression for a wordless confirmation before looking towards the back of the apartment.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Jeno offers, and you smile and nod, linking your fingers with his as he starts to lead you further into the apartment and farther away from the din of the party surrounding you.  

Leading you into the bathroom of his apartment, he shuts the door behind him and presses you up against it before kissing you again.

“You literally live here,” you giggle into the kiss. “Why are we in your bathroom and not your bedroom?”

“Long story short, Mark wants to get laid and his room is a mess, so he’s using mine.” Jeno explains, and you chuckle, nodding in understanding.

“You’re a good friend,” you say fondly, and he grins.

“I am?” he asks, and you nod, gasping when his hand slides down your front to between your thighs. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he says, his smile turning wolfish as he leans in closer, effectively pinning you against the wall as he kisses you deeply, teasing peeks and slips of his tongue into your mouth making you dizzy.

This time, when you pull back, it’s Jeno who chases your lips and captures them in another breath-stealing kiss. Every time you break the kiss to breathe, he’s on you a second later, barely giving you time to get any air—but when you’re thoroughly breathless and light-headed, he rests his forehead against yours as you both catch your breath, your chests heaving.

Jeno recovers faster than you do, moving and pressing kisses down your neck to your collarbones and back up while you play catch up. Unfortunately for you, each drag of his lips against your throat, each well-placed suck of skin and cheeky flick of the tongue only serves to make your breathing even more ragged, your eyes rolling back into your head as pleasure builds inside of you. 

Unable to wait any longer, you cup his face and tilt his head up towards yours to kiss him another time. He straightens up immediately and returns the kiss eagerly, pressing his hips into yours in excitement before pulling back. 

Your bodies move in sync, wordlessly on the same page as you both reach for the other’s clothing. Your movements are smooth and fluid as you unbuckle Jeno’s belt and unbutton his jeans, while Jeno’s are rough and jerky, the male haphazardly yanking at your pants until your button comes undone. 

His fingertips are cold and slightly calloused as he navigates past your underwear, stroking the seat of the garment before chuckling quietly.

“Already this wet for me?” His tone is a mix of curiosity and awe with a teasing lilt to it and his eyes twinkle when you nod, clutching at his arm with your free hand. “You’re unreal.”

“Jeno, touch me,” you urge plaintively, and he obliges instantly, middle finger circling your entrance before pushing in slowly. 

“God,” he groans in surprise, pulling his finger out and pushing it back in experimentally before establishing a rhythm that has you digging your nails into his arm for something to hold onto. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

You can’t bring yourself to reply, instead pushing your hand past his jeans and palming his length through his boxers, stroking from bottom to top diligently. He’s big, you note internally, suppressing a moan of anticipation when you feel the ridges of his cock through the teasingly thin fabric of his underwear.

Eager for more of your touch, Jeno leans into you, unintentionally pressing you against the sink so hard the counter digs into your back uncomfortably. He speeds up his motions between your legs, smoothly adding a second finger to assist in pumping in and out of your core, and you’re suddenly thankful Jeno’s body’s there to keep you standing, your knees on the verge of buckling from all the stimulation.

You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock—well, as far around as you can manage—and start to pump your fist up and down the length of his shaft. Jeno practically purrs in satisfaction, returning the favor by curling his fingers inside of you and stroking along your inner walls in search of your g-spot. 

He finds the small patch of nerves right around the time that you add your other hand into the mix, twisting and stroking him in opposite directions, both fists gliding up and down with the assistance of his pre-cum dripping from his tip.

“Careful, baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth, and you shrug casually, blinking up at him intently.

“What’s so wrong with that, hm?” you tease, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong with that is that I have plans for you tonight, and cumming early does not fit in those plans.” Jeno explains with a tempting smile that makes you just want to lean in and kiss him.

So you do. As you kiss him, he speeds up his pace and uses the heel of his palm to massage your clit and it’s not long before you’re climaxing with a gasp of his name and an overwhelmed whimper that makes Jeno’s cock twitch in your hands.

He moves your hands away from his length with a surprising amount of restraint and replaces your hands with one of his own, slowly pumping up and down his shaft as he observes you with bright, intense eyes.

“Can I taste you?” His voice is raspy with desire but his words are clear as he meets your gaze with a hopeful expression.

“Y-Yeah—um, yes, you can.” you stammer, finding it hard to maintain your composure under his gaze; it’s a mix of adoration, lust, and keen fascination as he studies everything about you, eyes roving over you as studiously as if he intends to commit your… everything to memory.

He smiles at your nervous response, eyes shifting to crescent moons as he sinks to his knees. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he hums sweetly, looking up at you from his kneeling position. He helps you out of your underwear and jeans, draping your leg over his shoulder and shifting to get closer to you. “Gonna take care of you.”

He places a feather-light kiss to the hood of your clit, making you whimper quietly, and he gazes up at you, curiously studying your reactions as he spreads your folds with his index and middle fingers and drags his tongue up from your entrance to your clit.

A loud gasp escapes you, and your hand moves reflexively to the top of his head, fingers curling in his black locks of hair. He chuckles into your core, the sound sending pleasurable vibrations through your body before repeating the action, heavy-handed strokes of his tongue lashing at the underside of your sensitive clit as you squirm above him, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips closer into his face.

He reaches behind you and grabs your ass, hands gripping your cheeks firmly and pulling you as close to his mouth as he can manage. His tongue works at your core in an almost frenzy, lapping at you as if you’re all he’s ever wanted to taste. You shudder at the sensations, a low moan emerging from your chest involuntarily, and he echoes you, his groan of bliss garbled by the way his tongue swirls around your clit.

“Fuck, Jeno—feels so good,” you exhale shakily, eyes sliding shut in ecstasy as he devours you, arousal-smeared lips sucking and kissing at your folds and tongue flicking and swirling, dipping teasingly into your entrance. 

“You’re perfect,” he slurs against your folds, sucking them between his lips and running his tongue over them before releasing them and returning his attention to your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth and letting it slip from his lips with a lewd wet smacking noise. “So fucking perfect—”

“Jeno, please,” you whine, reaching between your legs with your free hand and spreading your folds, tugging the hooded flesh above your clit up to expose the sensitive button. “Right here—please—wanna cum so bad—”

His eyes flick up to yours, so wild and filled with desire that it takes you by surprise, and he growls in determination under his breath as he surges forward and lets loose on your poor, expectant clit, alternating between sucking hard, flicking it back and forth, swirling his tongue around it and, to your scandalized surprise, burying his face in your core, the tip and bridge of his nose bumping and massaging your clit.

“Fuck—” you hiss in surprise, the word ending in a desperate moan as he brings you to your climax, letting his tongue lie flat against your entrance as he moves his head up and down, guiding you into using the bridge of his nose to stimulate your clit. 

“Ride my face,” he instructs through a throaty grunt, and you eagerly oblige, humping against his face as you ride out your high, moaning and panting Jeno’s name repeatedly.

“Holy shit,” you whisper in shock as Jeno straightens up and licks his lips before starting to stroke himself with slow strokes, tightly curled fist fucking his thick shaft as he watches you with a smug grin and slightly wildened eyes.

“Turn around for me?” he offers, pointing his finger downwards and twirling it around, his gaze darkening when you do just that and turn to face the mirror above the sink. “That’s it, stick that cute little ass out for me.” he grunts, and you feel your cheeks flush with heat, averting your gaze from his through the mirror. 

He smooths a palm over your asscheek, kneading the flesh before mimicking the action on the other one. He positions himself behind you and pushes his length into you, hissing in delight as your walls flex and stretch to accommodate his size.

“Fuck, Jeno,” you moan out, and he chuckles, the sound more teasing and dark than you’ve ever heard him. It’s a new, definitely not unwelcome side to him that you’re seeing right now and the realization brings forth yet another wave of arousal and desire that travels through your body and slickens around his length.

“Feels good?” he groans, and you nod vehemently, rocking your hips back onto him. “Yeah, I know it feels good, you’re gushing all over my cock, princess.”

All you can muster up in response are pathetic whines and whimpers as he drives his length into you, and he snickers, pulling your head up so you’re looking into the mirror.

“Look at yourself,” he urges, voice strained from his desire. “How good you look taking me like this.” 

“Jeno—” you cry, feeling a myriad of emotions as you watch yourself in the mirror. You look fucked out, to say the least, pupils wide but lids heavy as you trap your bottom lip between your teeth. Your lipgloss is smeared around your mouth, which soon falls open as breathy pants and cries sound out from your kiss-swollen lips freely. 

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever fucking seen,” he moans through clenched teeth as he focuses his attention on drilling into you repeatedly. “That feels so good around my cock, baby, keep sucking me in like that—” The head of his cock fucks into your most sensitive spot along your inner walls and you lose all sensibility, grabbing at the sink to steady yourself.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, fingers moving to rub your clit to help you reach your peak only to flinch away when you touch your sensitive clit and a jolt of something overtakes you. 

“Cum all over my cock, baby,” Jeno half-urges, half-pleads as your climax hits. 

So you do—hard. Your vision goes unfocused as you become acutely aware of the sound of your blood rushing through your ears and you can only let out weak moans and gasps as pleasure consumes you entirely.

Jeno’s throbbing length twitches inside of you as he pulls out and pushes in while your walls constrict around him, and his grip on your hips tightens as he begins to chase his own release.

“So good, baby,” he praises in a low, hushed murmur as he bites down on his bottom lip. “God, I need to cum—baby, where can I cum?”

“Inside,” you reply instantly, and he moans in delight, pushing into you all the way as he starts to cum.

“God, you’re amazing,” he breathes. “You want me to cum nice and deep in your pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Uh-huh—” you sniffle plaintively, and he sucks in a sharp breath as he meets your gaze in the mirror.

“Fuck—it’s yours, baby—gonna give you all of it, princess—” he promises, staying true to his word and not pulling out until your walls have milked him dry. His eyes shut tightly and he breathes out loudly through his nose as his body goes tense and rigid for a moment.

As you two catch your breath, Jeno gently guides your jelly-like limbs up and around so you’re sitting on the sink counter and reaches up to hold your face, assessing your expression carefully.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly, and his endearing display of concern brings a small, bashful smile to your face. “Good?” he chuckles, and you give a nod of confirmation. “Good.” he murmurs, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer for a tight, warm, secure hug.

If you were a cat, you’re sure that you’d be purring loudly as he rubs soothing circles into the small of your back and presses light kisses to the shoulder he’s resting on.

After a moment, he releases you slowly, now sporting a shy smile of his own. “I could stay here with you all night,” he confesses quietly, and your own smile widens as you reach forward to take one of his hands in your own.

“I would like that,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Don’t tempt me,” he warns you playfully. “Unfortunately, I think we should get out of this bathroom before someone finds out we’re in here.”

As soon as he reminds you of your circumstances, you can’t help but feel a sudden jolt of panic and think about your argument with Haechan.

“I suppose you’re right,” you sigh, frowning slightly, and he coos fondly at you, leaning in to kiss you softly. “I guess we should get ready, huh?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and he steps back to help you off the counter, handing you your pants and underwear before busying himself with buttoning and zipping his pants. You get redressed quickly and quietly and he puts his hand on the doorknob, quickly squeezing your hand in a comforting gesture before releasing you and opening the door.

To your surprise, when you come out and make your way back to the party, it doesn’t seem like anyone caught onto your joint absence, making you think that maybe, just maybe you’ve gotten away with it.

That is, until Haechan corners you on your way back from the kitchen when the rest of your friends have slipped off to smoke. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” he scoffs, and you try your best to play dumb despite feeling caught—and guilty at that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, and he gives you the most unimpressed stare you’ve seen in a minute, making you blanch and look away in mild embarrassment.

“We’re gonna stand here and pretend that I don’t know what you look like after you’ve been fucked?” he says flatly, and you swallow thickly, realizing you probably can’t dodge the topic anymore.

“What exactly are you getting at, Haechan?” you huff, and he shoots you a wide-eyed, incredulous look.

“You had sex with Jeno.” He gets straight to the point and you wince internally before bracing yourself and meeting his gaze levelly.

“And?” 

“And you did it specifically after I asked you not to flirt with him tonight.”

“Who do you think you are to make any sort of request like that of me, though?” you counter, and to your surprise, his nerve falters visibly, his hand lifting to rub the back of his neck.

“I know we’re not together, but—”

“But nothing! Not only are we not together, but you’re together with someone else!” you whisper-shout, and his expression turns defensive.

“We’re not together,” he repeats, staring you down as if daring you to interrupt him again, “but you know good and well we’re not not together.”

“We’re not exclusive.” you point out. 

“You can slice and dice the anatomy of our relationship any way you want, okay?” Haechan says, exasperated. “But you know what you did was messed up. That’s why you pretended not to know what I was talking about.”

You hate that he’s right. “I don’t really want to talk about this right now,” you mutter, looking away.

“Oh, believe me. We’ll talk about it later.” he replies, the resolve in his voice more than a little intimidating.

“Great,” you say sarcastically. “Can I go now?”

“I don’t know why you asked. You’re just going to do what you want anyway.” he half-scoffs, half-chuckles, and you can’t help but smile slightly with satisfaction.

“Ring any bells?”

“No,” he replies as you turn to leave, leaning in so his lips are by your ear. “I don’t pretend to care what the other person thinks. I just do it.”

“I don’t pretend, I consider my options.” you reply defensively, turning your nose up haughtily before walking away.

“We’re gonna pretend that’s not worse?” Haechan calls after you incredulously, but you ignore him, rounding the corner and practically collapsing in relief when you see that Yunjin and Chaewon have returned from their smoke break, the two of them giggling together on the couch. 

They look up to see you and break into wide smiles, making space between them and reaching out to welcome you closer. 

“We are starving,” Chaewon complains when you plop between them on the couch. “We were thinking about getting food somewhere.”

“How about the diner? I could really go for a cheeseburger right now.” you suggest, and Yunjin’s eyes light up.

“Yes! I’ll see if everyone else wants to go… after I rest for a second.” she says, resting her head on your shoulder, and you hum sympathetically.

“What’s wrong? Why so sleepy?”

“I’m drained,” she complains. “I sucked in a Scooby snack earlier when I was hitting my bowl and I haven’t recovered from my coughing fit.”

“Dang…Toke-ahontas did you dirty, huh?” you say with a frown. 

“After all I’ve done for her!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “She’s ungrateful.”

“Yeah, she cost you about 100 aura points.” Chaewon nods sadly, and you and Yunjin look at each other then at her in confusion. “Aura points? It’s a TikTok thing!”

“You need to stop being so chronically online.” Yunjin says in a gently concerned voice. 

“Online is where the lesbians are,” Chaewon defends herself, and you snort.

“The online lesbians are filling your head with inane terms and thoughts.” you inform her.

Chaewon huffs, crossing her arms as her lip begins to tremble. “The online lesbians wouldn’t do that to me!” 

“Okay, they wouldn’t!” you switch up immediately to avoid actually upsetting her and you pull her into a hug. “The online lesbians love and care for you, they’re just a little silly.”

“Yeah!” she sniffles, resting her head on your chest. “My silly online lesbians.”

You and Yunjin share a look over Chaewon’s unsuspecting head before shaking your heads and smiling to yourselves.

“Back to you,” you say, refocusing on Yunjin. “You are so brave,” you say seriously, patting her hand gently, and she smiles up at you, chuckling slightly before starting to cough once more. “Poor thing.”

“If I die,” she rasps dramatically, “tell my boss I hate how complicated her coffee order is. It makes all the baristas hate me and then they think I’m the pretentious prick who orders several customized drinks for varied drinking pleasures.”

“Absolutely will do.” you nod resolutely. “If I can remember all those words.” Yunjin snickers before coughing again. “Good God.”

As you all enter the diner and head to your usual spots, you’re surprised when Jeno slips in front of Haechan and slides into the spot next to you. 

Haechan, it seems, is just as stunned as you are, if not more. Jeno sits close to you, his thigh pressing up against yours and his fingers lightly grazing at the top of your hand in a silent, nervous request.

You make eye contact with Haechan, who’s settled down beside Winter and is staring absolute daggers at an oblivious Jeno, and oblige Jeno’s request, turning your palm up to link your fingers with his. He jolts in surprise at the contact, definitely not expecting you to agree to it, but a shy, excited smile slowly curls his lips as he curls his fingers around yours, the gentle act of affection happening under the table away from prying eyes. 

You can’t help but notice that Jeno’s intent gaze is nothing short of adoring as he studies you, not letting go of your hand for even a moment. In fact, when the waitress comes with your menus, he seems to forget to release you, bringing your linked hands up from under the table to reach for his respective menu. 

Your eyes can’t help but dart to Haechan, who’s already staring at your intertwined fingers with an unreadable expression and a clenched jaw. He stares at your hands, then you, then Jeno, before snapping out of it a moment later to receive his menu from the waitress. You carefully extract your fingers from Jeno’s with a hint of embarrassment, averting your gaze from Haechan’s the whole time as you cover the gesture by fixing your hair, brushing it out of your face.

Conversation builds amongst you all gradually, your and Haechan’s unusual silence compensated for by Jeno’s unexpectedly bubbly contributions. You can’t help but look over at Haechan periodically, the subject of your attention pointedly staring down at his menu with his jaw set and brow furrowed.

You know that you two just had an argument, and neither of you owe each other anything… so why do you feel so wrong?

Jeno snaps you out of your thoughts when he slumps down to rest his head on your shoulder. It’s almost comical, the way that the larger male contorts his body just to place his head on you, but you can’t find it in you to be truly amused—not with the way Haechan pokes his tongue to the inside of his cheek in poorly concealed irritation.

“Hey, where’d you two disappear to, anyway?” Yunjin’s voice cuts through your internal spiraling, and you freeze at the sudden attention, blinking twice in a daze before meeting her curious gaze. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, feigning cluelessness. 

“At the party, girl! You and Jeno disappeared out of nowhere and showed up, like, an hour later.” As she speaks, you watch the realization set in, her eyes dropping to where Jeno’s head rests on your shoulder, lifting to study the content smile on his face, and finally meeting your shifty gaze. 

You’re less than surprised when she spares Haechan a surreptitious glance only to find him staring directly at you with a challenge burning in his eyes. 

Tell them where you were. He doesn’t need to say a word, evidently, because you look down at your hands in your lap, wanting so badly to feel comforted by the way Jeno’s thumb strokes the back of your hand yet feeling more alienated than ever.

“Oh, I lost my phone and she was helping me look for it.” Jeno’s voice pipes up as he covers for you, and you try not to visibly slump with relief. 

“Again? Jeno, you’re always losing your things.” Chaewon scolds. 

“Yeah, you’d better be careful before you lose something you can’t replace.” Haechan says in a low tone, words heavy with a warning and an unspoken threat that you’re sure has nothing to do with a cellphone.

Jeno notices it, too, unfortunately. Letting out a low whistle, Jeno sits up slightly and squares his shoulders as he stares back at Haechan. “What’s with the hostility? I’ve never lost anything I couldn’t—or didn’t—get back or replace.” 

“Yet.” Haechan mutters under his breath bitterly, and the air at the table seems to go stale as everyone freezes at the impending threat. Everyone, that is, except for the oh, so clueless Winter, whose response to her irate boyfriend’s remark is to loop her hand around his arm and look up at him questioningly.

“You okay, baby?” she asks, concerned, and he blinks back an almost imperceptible roll of his eyes before shifting his gaze to her with a tight-lipped smile. 

She brightens up at the sight of his smile, resting her head on his shoulder, leaving you to wonder how she could miss the absolute fire blazing in his eyes. You also feel the urge to swallow bile as you stare blankly at where her head meets his shoulder.

It hits you then, the realization finally sinking in, that you’re jealous of Winter, and your anger multiplies what feels like tenfold as you start to spiral, your mood worsening rapidly.

That is her boyfriend. He doesn’t belong to you. You don’t even want Haechan like that. 

 …Do you? 

“I’m fine. I’m just making sure Jeno’s more… responsible. Next time, he won’t be so lucky if someone gets to that phone before he does and doesn’t feel like giving it back.”

Once again, there’s a hidden meaning to his words, and everyone at the table apart from Jeno and Winter exchanges uncomfortable glances that all manage to flicker your way. Haechan slowly drags his gaze from Winter to you, his eyes dark and intense.

“Whoever finds it in the future probably already has a cellphone.” you counter, leveling his gaze. “A perfectly good one, at that. So what the hell would they want with his?”

Haechan chuckles humorlessly before shrugging casually and draping his arm around Winter’s shoulders, Winter leaning into his side eagerly. “Maybe they want an upgrade.”

“I have the iPhone 11 Pro,” Jeno remarks in confusion.

“Maybe they shouldn’t be so fucking greedy and appreciate the perfectly functional phone they already have before snatching other people’s phones.” you snap, and Haechan’s brows raise in surprise at that. 

“Greedy?” he starts to counter in disbelief, but Yunjin claps twice to get everyone’s attention, taking turns staring you and Haechan down with evident disapproval.

“That’s enough out of you both, actually. And where the hell is the waitress, anyway?” she desperately attempts to change the topic, leaving a tense atmosphere and a confused Jeno and Winter in the aftermath.

As Yunjin and Chaewon set about trying to get the attention of the waitress to take your orders, you and Haechan exchange fierce stares, neither of you backing down from the charged eye contact.

At the end of your meal, the tension at the table has only dissipated slightly, the burning embers of irritation kept alight by your frustrating inability to ignore the way Winter’s been hanging on Haechan’s arm and staring up at him with adoring eyes virtually all night.

Haechan looks up from his phone at you unexpectedly, catching you dead in the act of glaring at where his and Winter’s bodies meet. He raises his eyebrows almost imperceptibly, leaving you seething internally and cursing how attractive he is, before poking his tongue in his cheek and looking away with a growing smug grin.

You think for a moment that you’ll be fine, that you can get a handle on your emotions, but Winter sits up slightly to leave a flurry of kisses to Haechan’s cheek, making exaggerated smooching noises with every kiss, and you just about gag, tossing your napkin down on the table a bit too forcefully to play off as nothing.

“You alright?” Haechan asks slowly, knowing good and damn well that you’re not alright, that you couldn’t possibly be alright—

you got me some type of way ain’t used to feeling this way i do not know what to say but i know i shouldn’t think about it

“Yeah, I just lost my appetite.” you mumble bitterly, and Winter hums sympathetically.

“We can ask for a to-go box!” she offers helpfully, and you force a smile in her direction. “I’ll call the waitress.”

“As a matter of fact, I think I’m gonna go home soon.” you say, trying with all your might to refrain from throwing a full-blown temper tantrum in the middle of your regular diner.

Jeno turns to observe you carefully, concern etched in his features. “Do you feel okay?” he asks worriedly, reaching up to place the back of his hand against your forehead. 

You note, with a shockingly sinister satisfaction, that Haechan visibly bristles at the contact between you and Jeno, the male across from you swallowing thickly before taking a small sip of the ice water in his cup.

“I feel okay, Jeno,” you assure him softly, and he relaxes slightly before removing his hand from your head and placing it on your thigh under the table, palm facing upwards in a silent request that you grant readily, lacing your fingers with his.

Now it’s Haechan’s turn to react, rolling his eyes and scoffing under his breath before raising his hand to flag down the waitress.

She arrives at your table shortly after he’s called her over and agrees to bring the checks and a couple of to-go containers, thanking you all for your patronage and bidding you a good night.

You try not to fling your card on the table with the utter desperation you feel to get out of there, but it lands a bit roughly anyway. 

Jeno picks up your card and hands it back to you, smiling sweetly before placing his card on top of both of your receipts.

You return his smile gratefully, blatantly ignoring the way Haechan’s staring at you both, and reach for your coat so you can leave.

You almost hate to say it, but seeing Winter all over Haechan tonight seems to have awakened something nasty, hateful, and bitter in you, and you think it’s in your best interest to make your escape before that something rears its ugly head.

By the time you and Yunjin get home, your mind is reeling and you feel absolutely restless.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” you mutter, shrugging off your coat and heading to your room. With every step closer to your room, you grow more frustrated by the situation.

You shut your door all too harshly, prompting you to open and close it again softer in a wordless apology, and toss your purse onto your bed before slowly starting to strip in the full length mirror by your vanity. 

took one fucking look at your face now i wanna know how you taste usually don’t give it away but you know i’m out here thinking ‘bout it

You’re down to your bra and nothing else before an idea strikes you and you’re leaping onto your bed and pulling your phone from your purse. 

Your fingers are moving before you even register it, your mind one step ahead of you as you press the phone icon next to the contact you’ve typed in and wait with bated breath.

then i realize she’s right there and i’m at home like, “damn, this ain’t fair”

The phone rings once, twice, and almost finishes the third before he picks up. “Hello?”

“Hi,” you say, a smile curling your lips.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, tone slightly curt, and it dawns on you that he most certainly isn’t happy with you at the moment. 

“Are you alone?” you murmur into the phone, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Haechan?” 

He mutters a curse under his breath, no doubt affected by the need in your voice, before he grunts in acknowledgement. 

break up with your girlfriend yeah, yeah, ‘cause i’m bored

“I need you,” you admit plainly, and he groans, the sound tempted and tortured all in one. “Come over?”

You hear him mutter an excuse—something about fresh air—and the background noises shift to an outside soundscape; cars driving by in the distance, the rush of night air, and, most importantly, Haechan’s deep breathing.

“You know I can’t do that.” he replies finally, his voice gruff, yet you can hear the strain in his voice, the desperation for you not to tempt him any further.

you could hit it in the morning yeah, yeah, like it’s yours

So you do. “But Haechan…” you trail off, and you hear him hum curiously, making you smile before you continue, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

The barely controlled breathing on the other line stops abruptly before a low swear sounds out. “You’re joking.”

“Come over and find out.”

i know it ain’t right but i don’t care

The line goes silent for a moment. It’s so silent, in fact, that you fear he’s hung up. However, a ragged inhale sounds out from the other end before he says, “I don’t care if you’re wearing them right now or not, but they’d better be off by the time I get there.”

“Oh, yeah?” you hum, rolling over onto your stomach with a triumphant grin. 

“Yeah,” he grunts. “I don’t need anything in my way.” 

“Copy that,” you say with a giggle, heading to your front door and making sure your spare key is where it usually is. “Our spare key is under the doormat.”

“Good girl,” he breathes before the line goes dead. Instantly, your body thrums with anticipation, the knowledge of your forbidden lover’s imminent arrival filling you with desire and excitement. You can barely wait, alternating between thrashing around on your bed eagerly and fixing up your appearance in your vanity mirror. You decide to throw on a sleep shirt so you’re not just lying there too bare; you feel embarrassed enough thinking about how close you were to begging him on the phone.

You’re thrown out of your excited little frenzy when your front door slams shut and rapid footsteps sound out towards your bedroom. 

The door swings open and Haechan freezes in the doorway at the sight of your frame laid on your bed clad only in a bra and large t-shirt, a deep groan sounding from his throat as he clutches the doorknob so hard his knuckles whiten. 

“You’re unreal,” he spits out through gritted teeth as he quickly makes his way to the bed. As soon as he’s close enough to touch you, he’s flinging your legs apart and slotting himself between them as he pulls you into a fierce kiss by the back of your neck. “Thought I told you I don’t want anything in my way, hm?”

“I’m not wearing anything,” you say through a shaky exhale that cuts off when his fingers prove you right as they circle your bare, already pulsing clit.

“Closing your legs counts.” he huffs, dipping his middle finger into your warmth teasingly. When you cry out, he chuckles under his breath before retracting his finger and tracing yet another teasing round of circles around your clit. “Want my pretty girl on display for me.”

“It is for you,” you whimper, clutching at his shirt to pull him closer. 

“You sure it’s not for Jeno?” he practically spits his friend’s name, and you almost wince from the disapproving tone of his voice.

“No,” you whine, drawing out the syllable to emphasize your point. “Only you.”

“You’re lucky I like you so fucking much.” he grunts against your lips, and you giggle mischievously. 

“Mm, yeah?” you muse softly, carding your fingers through his brown locks at the nape of his neck. “How much?”

“So much that I’m gonna ignore your bratty little attitude from earlier and give you what you want.” He pulls back from your lips and fixes you with a stare that dares you to contradict him, and you fall silent.

Satisfied, his fingers slide down your stomach over your shirt to slip between your legs once more, stroking and pinching and massaging your clit as you squirm and whimper under him. 

His gaze falls on your face, watching you intently as your features twitch and contort with the different pleasurable sensations he’s giving to you. Haechan pushes two digits into your clenching entrance, hissing when you mewl softly in pleasure and responding by curling his fingers up and starting to move them in and out inside of you.

The room is gradually filled with your panting, whimpering, and pleading as he pumps his fingers into you and he presses his lips to yours, momentarily silencing you as he swallows your moans with his heated kiss. 

“Good?” he breathes, and you nod, prompting him to smile against your lips before kissing down to your neck. “Need to hear you,” he reminds you, and you swallow thickly before speaking.

”Good,” you confirm breathlessly, and he chuckles. “So, so good—yes—fuck, right there—”

“Here?” he taunts, curling his fingers to fuck into the patch of nerves along your inner walls that made you cry out, and you nod vigorously, clutching at his arm tightly. 

“Exactly—please don’t stop,” you plead in a broken sob, and he coos affectionately, nipping at the thin skin of your neck. Swirling his tongue over your pulse point before pressing a soft smattering of kisses to the heated area, he keeps fucking you open with his fingers as he sucks just enough to make your head spin but not enough to leave any marks. “Haechan, I’m gonna cum—!”

“Good, baby,” he grunts, pulling away from your neck to study your face. His insistence to see you in such a vulnerable state makes heat rise to your cheeks and you turn your head to the side to avert your gaze. 

He shifts so he’s kneeling between your legs and brings his now free hand to your neck, cupping your jaw in his index and thumb fingers and turning your face back to his before adjusting his fingers to grip the side of your neck and keep you in place.

“Your pussy is so loud and wet, baby, you like this that much?” he’s teasing you without a doubt, but you can’t even protest, your climax so close you can practically taste it. “Cum, baby,” he urges through gritted teeth, “and keep those pretty eyes looking at me as you do.”

You oblige (not without difficulty) and lock eyes with Haechan right before your climax hits, your back arching off of the bed as your eyes screw shut. 

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers reverently, leaning over you to kiss you. “Like a little temptress.”

“I’m not,” you start to protest weakly, but as the pleasure courses through you, you can barely get the words out without them coming out as a pathetic whine. 

“You are,” he confirms as you finally start to come down from your high. “Dangerous as hell, too, and you know it.” He moves lower down your body, releasing your throat, and gazes up at you intently, waiting for you to lock eyes with him before he lets his tongue loll out of his mouth and wags it at you in a teasingly lewd gesture that makes you gasp.

Haechan presses a lingering kiss to just below the hem of your shirt, looking up at you before biting down on the fabric and dragging it up your torso until it’s bunched up above the swell of your breasts.

He shifts so he’s comfortably propped up beside you, one of his legs hooked around one of yours to prevent you from closing them, and he trails one glistening wet finger up from your pulsating core to travel across your stomach to stop right under the front center of your bra. He marvels at the shiny trail his finger left on your skin before dipping his head to drag his tongue up that exact path he just made. As his head moves up your body, his free hand pushes your bra up and over your breasts, granting himself free access to your chest.

He moans as he gropes your chest, kneading and squeezing the flesh between his fingers, and shifts closer to take your nipple into his mouth without warning.

You cry out in surprise and he chuckles around his mouthful of… well, you before pulling back just enough to grant you with the alluring visual of his full pink lips wrapped around your sensitive bud and his shiny wet tongue swirling around your raised flesh.

A shaky moan escapes you and he returns to sucking on your nipple, his tongue still unmistakably rolling around and over your bud even hidden away inside his mouth. 

Cupping your neglected breast with his free hand, he rolls your nipple between his index finger and thumb, tugging and flicking it to match the sensations he’s causing with his mouth. When he bites down, he pinches, and you whine in protest, squirming under him. The pressure is gone just as quickly as it was applied and he showers both breasts with kisses and gentle touches—you can’t quite tell if it’s an apology or a reward, but you’re not sure you mind.

“How are we feeling, baby?” he murmurs before swirling slow circles around your nipple with his tongue. 

“Good,” you breathe, and he grins, looking up at you before snaking his hand between your legs to touch your aching core. You breathe in sharply when his fingers brush your clit before dipping into you to explore your wetness.

“Fuck,” he mumbles in a daze, shifting down on the bed to get closer to where his fingers keep moving inside of you. “Feeling really good, aren’t you, baby?” His voice utterly fascinates you in its transparency; his tone is still lilting to tease you, but everything about his low, strained voice screams desperation to the point of ruin. 

“Let’s see if I can make you feel even better, yeah?” he moves further down the bed and between your legs, ducking his head down faster than you can collect yourself enough to warn him.

“Fuck—be careful, I’m sensitive—” you hiss, and he pulls away from your core, turning his head to kiss your inner thigh sweetly.

“I got you.” he assures you, and you practically melt into the mattress. 

His tongue finds the underside of your clit with ease, massaging the stiffened bud as a deep tremble runs through your body. Thick, wet, pink muscle swirls decadently around your clit, plush lips wrapping around to suck gently as you whine and rock your hips up and closer to his face.

He hooks his arms around your thighs, holding them open as he indulges himself in the taste of you. Flicking your bundle of nerves back and forth rapidly with the tip of his tongue slowly turns into long, heavy drags of his tongue flat against your core. With every rough lap at your clit, you jolt under his touch and struggle to remain in place as his tongue nestles between your folds to slurp at your slick entrance. 

His sounds are every bit as sinful as his tongue, desperate grunts and moans escaping him as he devours every last bit of you, and he sends you hurtling towards the edge unceremoniously when he pushes his tongue into you, letting the muscle fill you up to the best of its ability.

“God—” you hiss, and he chuckles, retracting his tongue from you (much to your dismay).

“You can take it, right?” he taunts softly, gazing up at you challengingly. “Of course you can, baby.” He pulls back slightly from your core to massage your lower thighs while leaving kisses all over the insides of your upper thighs. “You’re gonna take every bit of pleasure I give you, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you pant, scratching weakly at his scalp, “gonna take it all—”

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs adoringly, head returning to between your legs to resume his mind-scrambling combination of licking and sucking at your poor, hypersensitive core as you stumble closer and closer towards your climax.

“Mm—I’m gonna—fuck—cum, Haechan, stop—”

“Why would I stop?” Haechan replies with an amused scoff, lips still brushing your clit with every movement before he goes back to sucking, pulling his head back and letting your abused bud slip from between his lips. “You’re gonna give me everything I want, isn’t that right?”

“Ah—yes, yes, I am!” you agree hurriedly, desperate to reach your peak.

“Then give me those pretty moans and faces I like so much, hm?” he coos sweetly, finally coaxing you to your climax with his lips vibrating around your clit with every word. 

You cry out in ecstasy, eyes sliding shut as pleasure floods through your system, and his tongue is relentless against you, dipping into you to tease, swirling around, and licking at everything he can get his mouth on.

In the haze of your orgasm, your hand finds Haechan, the male linking his fingers with yours and placing your joined hands where your hip and thigh meet. He moves up to kiss you sweetly, lips locking intimately as the taste of your arousal swirls in both of your mouths. 

When he starts peppering kisses down lower, you wonder briefly what he’s up to before your eyes widen in realization as his movements become more determined and his path more clear in its ultimate destination.

“Hae–Haechan, what are you doing?” you complain, swatting at his head weakly, but he stops you with one hand, looping his fingers around your wrist and setting it down on the bed by your hips. 

“Trying to see if I could make you come again with my fingers and tongue.” he mutters distractedly before his tongue flicks the underside of your clit, making you jolt, and you immediately start squirming away even as he shifts to follow you, his fingers buried inside of you never once letting up in their relentless exploring of your walls.

“Please don’t,” you plead, and he shushes you sweetly.

“I know you can do it, baby—”

“I know I can, too! That’s not the problem,” you huff.

He raises both eyebrows in a silent cue for you to continue. “Then what’s the problem?” 

“Haechan, I can’t wait any longer.” you plead breathlessly, and he hums in understanding before pushing your legs wider apart and settling between them, watching you with fascination as he palms himself through his boxers.

“Is that right?” he asks, tilting his head to the side curiously, and you nod vehemently, reaching for his hips to pull him closer to you. You can feel the head of his cock pressing against your waiting entrance, anticipation thrumming in your veins. “Then I guess my pretty, spoiled baby shouldn’t have to wait any longer.” Without another word, he guides himself into you, hissing in pleasure as you cry out in relief.

He pulls out to the tip, rubbing it against your slick folds and collecting your arousal on his length before he pushes into you as deep as he can, letting out a groan of satisfaction as your walls clench around him, greedily sucking him in as far as possible.

He pulls one of your legs up so your calf rests on his shoulder and pushes two fingers past your lips, eyes darkening as he watches you suck them.

“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he says, pulling out halfway before sending his hips snapping into yours with a powerful thrust that makes you cry out in surprise, the sound garbled by his middle and ring fingers on your tongue. 

He starts to fuck into you roughly, his cock hitting places along your inner walls that have you seeing stars, and it’s all you can do to focus on the task of swirling your tongue around his fingers, drool already pooling beneath your tongue before slowly dripping down your chin.

“Messy baby,” he coos patronizingly, and you can only offer a scratchy moan in response, one of your hands moving to cup your breast and squeeze. “Were you jealous, baby? Hm?” he teases, and you can’t find it in you to lie, nodding your head emphatically as he pounds into you. “Yeah? You were?” He’s absolutely making fun of your irrational reaction earlier, and you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to—not with the way his length fills you up just right and hits all the right spots. 

“Feels—so good—” you moan around his fingers, and he pulls them from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting them to your bottom lip before he’s leaning forward and kissing you passionately, his tongue licking at the drool on your chin before pushing into your mouth and flicking at your own tongue playfully.

“Were you thinking about me stuffing my cock in someone that’s not you?” he pants, never relenting on his thrusts, and you nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the sheer amount of pleasure flooding through your body. “It’d never be the same, baby,” he assures you, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. “Your pussy squeezes my cock just fucking right,” he grunts, “and you’re so wet I could just slip right out of you.” 

At his words, you panic, clutching at him to pull him closer to you, making him snicker condescendingly. “No, don’t go—stay—stay with me, stay in me, I need you, please—” you babble, and his gaze darkens at the sound of your begging, lips parting slightly as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“No, you don’t want me to pull out, right?” he riles you up further, mocking the frantic way you shake your head no with a devilish grin on his face. “Want me nice and deep in this pretty pussy so you can cream all over my cock.”

“Haechan—” you gasp, almost entirely overwhelmed. “Haechan, I’m so cl—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he shushes you comfortingly, dare you say lovingly, his gentle words starkly contrasting the powerful way he drives his hips into you. “I got you. Go ahead and let go.”  

When your climax hits, you genuinely feel like you’re falling apart in the best way possible. Your whole body tenses, curling in on itself, wound up tight like a coil before the tension snaps and your muscles go slack from exhaustion, your mouth seemingly stuck open in a soundless gasp as ecstasy blooms all throughout your body.

Haechan watches you come undone with wild, adoring eyes, wetting his lips before meeting your lips in a heated, wet kiss made all the more sloppy by the fact that you can’t seem to move your mouth the way you want to in order to return his kisses. 

Desperate pants and whimpers fall from your parted lips as you messily move them against his mouth, cheeks warming with embarrassment at the sound of his amused chuckle.

“Am I fucking you that good, baby? You forgot how to kiss me back?” he taunts you breathlessly, and all you can do is nod pathetically, reaching for his face with trembling hands connected to arms that feel like jelly. He lets you cup his face, only slowing down his thrusts ever so slightly so you can properly kiss him back, Haechan humming contently into the kiss. When you two part, you feel a cool bead of your mixed saliva drip down from your no doubt swollen bottom lip, and he grins. “That’s more like it.”

He sits back upright and his hands cup under your thighs, caressing the flesh before moving your legs one at a time so your ankles are resting on his shoulders and his length is hitting spots that keep making fireworks go off in your vision. 

“Good like this?” he asks in a soft murmur, and you nod quickly, making him snicker fondly. “Eager, huh?”

“Feels so good, Haechan,” you moan, slurring your words slightly from all the pleasure. 

“Fuck, you sound so tempting.” he grunts, drilling his thick length into your core. “Keep talking, baby.”

You, quite frankly, do not know what the hell you’re about to say, given that your brain is a puddle of arousal right now, but you’d do damn near anything to keep Haechan inside of you at this point.

“Feels so full,” you whimper, clutching his forearm tightly. “So full—feels so good—fuck, right there!”

“Here, baby? Right here?” he’s absolutely taunting you, but you can tell by the tensing of his muscles and the hard, slow blink he gives that he’s nowhere near unaffected.

“Mm, yeah,” you sigh blissfully as your stomach starts to furl and unfurl in that familiar way. You reach up to cup your breasts, squeezing them and tugging on your nipples. You’re so lost in your own world of mind-numbing pleasure that it doesn’t even register that Haechan’s watching you until he nips at your ankle to get your attention. 

“Look at me, baby.” he orders gently, and you oblige (not without difficulty) as he watches you come undone. The final blow is when he reaches between your bodies to toy with your clit and you just about fall apart right there. “Hold it in for me, baby.”

“Wh–?” you splutter, baffled.

“Trust me, baby, it’s gonna feel so good in a second—”

“Haechan,” you interrupt, unable to take it for much longer as you reach up and cup his chin, pulling him closer to you. “Please—”

“Fuck,” he mutters, “I can’t say no to you.”

“Then don’t,” you practically cry, tears welling up from frustration and pleasure.

“My pretty girl wants to cum, yeah?” he grunts, and you nod, reaching to pull him closer.

“Want to cum with you, Haechan—you cum, too—” you manage to get out between gasps and moans, and his thrusts falter for a second as he looks down at you in poorly concealed surprise.

“Say that again,” he mumbles, and you feel the shift in the energy as he stares down at you with an expression suspiciously close to loving. “Please, baby, say it again?”

“Will you cum with me, Haechan?” you ask softly and hesitantly, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable from the request.

“You are so—” he mutters in awe, adoration twinkling in his hopeful eyes before he leans down to kiss you, this kiss far more slow and deliberate than you’re used to. “I can’t get enough of you—I’ll never get enough of you—” 

“Haechan, move, please—” you beg, and he seems to remember his situation, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he slowly builds back up to the pace you were at previously. 

“Baby—” he hisses, his brow furrowing, “I’m close—gonna cum—”

“Me too,” you whine, digging your nails into his forearms and making him grit his teeth. “Cum inside?”

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he moans, burying his face in your neck before bringing two fingers to your clit to tease the bundle of nerves with rapid circles.

With languid, heated kisses being left all over your face, neck, and chest, and Haechan’s skilled fingers massaging your clit while his girthy length drags in and out of your clenching core, you climax with a deep shudder, your torso attempting to curl in on itself as he holds you firmly in place. True to your wishes, his hips stutter as he comes to bury himself inside of you and release into you, wet lips sucking at the flesh of your neck as he muffles his moan into your skin.

He drags his lips up a blazing path to meet your own, connecting them in a deep, slow, passionate kiss.

For a moment, you’re so entranced by his kisses that you think you might be able to cum again just from this.

His tongue strokes against yours, swirling and flicking sensually as he slowly ruts his hips against yours in smooth rolling motions that have you whimpering into the kiss and realizing that, yes, you very well might actually cum again just from this.

He pulls back to suck on your bottom lip before releasing it and meeting your gaze with a heady blend of lust and adoration swirling in his eyes, taking a moment to take in the sight of you in your unraveled state before leaning back in to kiss you once more.

“Haechan,” you manage to breathe between kisses, your voice pathetically whiny. He mimics your plaintive tone, humming in acknowledgement, and you cry out weakly, all too aware of the arousal collecting between your legs. “Gonna—wanna—wanna cum just like this,” you moan into his parted lips, and you feel him hesitate for half a second, his surprise practically tangible.

“Yeah, baby? You wanna cum just from my kissing?” he pants, voice unmistakably thick with desire. “Cum for me, baby.” His words are urgent but soft, filled with patience and a tenderness you can’t ignore.

You take over the pace of the movements, shifting to slot one of his legs between yours and rolling your hips up against his to send your bare core dragging up his thigh. A sharp hiss of surprise escapes you, followed by a sigh of relief when the friction is just right.

“My messy girl feels good, yeah? My pretty, messy baby wants to fuck my thigh? You’re so wet, baby, you’re gliding on me.” He leans down to murmur in your ear, that taunting lilt creeping back into his tone, but you haven’t forgotten the main event.

“Haechan, kiss me,” you whine, scratching at his back demandingly. He wastes no time in obliging, sealing his lips over yours with a content hum. Between the strokes of his tongue, the gentle sucking and kissing of his lips, and the friction his thigh is giving your poor clit, you’re coming undone yet again, this one a quiet, powerful climax that leaves your mind fuzzy and has you feeling like you’re on cloud nine. 

As soon as your climax subsides, Haechan is quick to pull up his boxers and take you into his arms, pulling you against his chest firmly and pressing kisses to the crown of your head.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers soothingly. “You did so well, baby, I’m proud of you.”

You can’t even manage to mask your reaction to his praise, your face warming as you start to smile bashfully, and he chuckles, pressing kisses down from the top of your head to your forehead, the bridge of your nose, the tip, and finally connecting with your lips. 

“I’ll clean us up in a bit, just give me a minute to be with you.” he assures you, and warmth blooms in your chest at his words, a small nod all you can manage in reply as you look up at him curiously.

“You good?” you ask softly, fingers carefully trailing along his bare chest, and he chuckles quietly, nodding with certainty.

“Never better, actually.” he responds, and you hum in acknowledgement, your mind starting to wander back to the events that transpired earlier in the evening and you swallow in an attempt to moisten your now dry throat as you think back to what exactly got Haechan over to your apartment. 

“You know we’re gonna have to talk about it eventually,” Haechan pipes up, voice a throaty rumble, and you don’t need to look up to know he’s looking at you. 

Wordlessly, you shift so you’re on your side, one leg over his as you resume your delicate but purposeful stroking of his chest and torso. He’s still silent as he presumably waits for your response, and you decide to amp up your actions in an attempt to distract him, lightly dragging your fingernails down his stomach to tease at the waistband of his boxers. 

keep it one hundred, babe we both know i’m not the only one

“I know what you’re doing,” Haechan murmurs lowly, poorly attempting to conceal how affected he is.

but when i’m there, you treat a n**** real good and that’s probably why i always come

You hum softly in acknowledgement, continuing your movements, and blink up at him slowly. “Oh, yeah? What am I doing?”

“You’re distracting me,” he protests weakly, and you exhale quietly in amusement. “From being mad at you.”

“Do you want to be mad at me?” you sniffle, feigning hurt, and he chuckles before shaking his head slowly. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I need to express my feelings,” he groans when your manicured nails slip under the waistband of his boxers. “Get shit off my chest.” Completely contrary to his words, he tries to lift his hips subtly, urging your hand to move against him, and you snicker under your breath.

“You’re talking a lot but you’re literally guiding my hand into touching you.”

“Am not,” he says breathlessly, and you raise your eyebrows. 

“No?” you say softly, trailing your hand up his body to trace small circles around his navel that have him shuddering visibly. “So you don’t like this?”

“N-No,” he grunts quietly, his eyes traitorously sliding shut in bliss when you scrape your nails down to his boxers again. He, remarkably enough, refuses to meet your eyes, and you correctly deduce that this must be Haechan’s first attempt to lie to you.

“Then tell me to stop.” Your reply is simple, but he buffers nonetheless, mouth momentarily opening and closing not unlike a goldfish. “Haechan?”

“Yeah?” he moans—the poor thing couldn’t hold it any longer, you suppose. 

“Tell me.” 

“Tell you what?” You can’t help but admire his ability to be a brat until the bitter end.

“About your feelings, Haechan,” you drawl sarcastically, Haechan grunting softly before you continue, “I wanna know how you feel.”

“God, fuck,” he hisses when you dip your fingers lower than they’ve gone so far to stroke at the skin just above the base of his cock. “Feels good.” he slurs without thinking and you giggle when he freezes like he’s a deer caught in headlights. 

“What was that, Haechan?” you tease quietly, the tip of your nose trailing across his cheek as you move to kiss his jaw.

“It feels good,” he confesses, and you reward his honesty by wrapping your hand around the base of his length and starting to stroke him. It’s a mess of slick arousal and sweat mixed on his shaft and it’s difficult to maintain a good grip on him, but your actions are clearly appreciated with the way he twitches and grows to life in your hand.

Overwhelmed with the sudden pleasure, Haechan noses his way down to your neck to kiss and suck gently at the skin as a way to distract himself.

“Still want to talk about your feelings, Haechan?” you offer, and he takes a moment away from your neck to look up and glower at you.

“I want you to keep moving your hand,” he replies.

You pout. “But your feelings are important.”

“You’re so evil,” Haechan slurs slightly. “I love it.”

“How is it evil to want to discuss your feelings?” you ask curiously, attempting to sound as not guilty as possible.

“You know good and well all I’m thinking about now has nothing to do with that schmuck you tried to piss me off with earlier and everything to do with how you look and feel right now.”

You can’t help but snort in amusement. “Not you calling him a schmuck. Haechan, where’d you even learn that word?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“But do you know what that even means? How is Jeno a schmuck—?” 

Haechan growls under his breath, shifting smoothly to hover on top of you. “Not you repeatedly bringing him up when I’m clearly trying to get over it.”

“Shutting up now.” you nod resolutely, and he snickers, studying your expression with a fond smile before leaning down to kiss you. 

You’re not sure if it’s from his being so worked up or your building desire for him, but the kiss shifts the dynamic, Haechan rolling onto his side and urging you to do the same. You can feel the head of his length rhythmically pressing between where your thighs meet as he shamelessly ruts his hips against you and the realization makes between your legs warm, desire slicking your inner thighs. 

His tongue gliding past your parted lips draws forth a low whine from you as you let Haechan kiss you however he pleases, content with simply basking in the attention.

Finally growing satisfied with the amount of kisses he’s gotten, Haechan breaks the kiss with a surprisingly lewd, wet smacking noise and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, chuckling softly when you squirm. 

“Mm… what if I marked you up?” he mumbles, brushing his lips against your skin. “Fucked with that pretty skin of yours so everyone knows you’re taken?”

You scoff in surprise and amusement. “I’m taken? That’s bold of you, Haechan.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t like it,” he retorts, hand sliding up between your legs to tease the skin of your thighs just before your core. “Being mine.” His voice is muffled but his words ring out loud and clear, making you balk as you realize you’re more intrigued by the thought than you initially imagined.

You clear your throat softly before enunciating your next words carefully. “Is she an example of how you treat things you call yours?”

His fingers still and you feel the small warm puff of a sigh—whether it’s defeat or exasperation, you’re unsure—against your neck before he shifts to rest his elbow on the bed and his cheek in his palm. His fingers slowly resume their teasing strokes, dancing up closer to your folds, digits dragging along the wetness smeared on the insides of your thighs.

“She was never really mine, I don’t think.” he muses softly, and you snort, rolling your eyes.

“She’s like the perfect girlfriend.” you reply flatly.

“She’s too nice,” he argues back, and your features contort into confusion as you splutter in incredulity.

“You’re just making up shit!” you counter. “How is she too nice?”

“Hear me out, okay?” Haechan replies, an edge to his voice that leaves you silent and expecting his next words. “She doesn’t make me feel… special.”

“Okay…”

“She’s about as nice to me as she was in the beginning. I don’t feel like,” he pauses, swallowing as he chooses his next words, “she became any more endeared to me. I just got the Girlfriend Package with no upgrades down the line or anything.”

“If you want a real upgrade, you’d have to buy a ring.” You turn your head to look at him with your brows raised and a teasing grin.

“I’m not talking about wifely upgrades!” he clarifies immediately, and you can’t help but laugh. He watches you with a look dangerously close to adoration on his face before he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re really something.”

“I’m something?” you reply defensively, and he nods slowly, regarding you as if you’re stupid.

“Who called me over here at ass o’clock in the morning to fuck her because she didn’t like how touchy my girlfriend was being earlier?”

“Who came?” you retort, and he narrows his eyes.

“Who did all that before the cum of her last sexcapade had even finished drying inside of her?”

“Who had every chance to shut me down and tell me to move on, hm?”

“Your only rebuttal is that I came over?”

“You chose to come over.” you point out, sitting up to swing your leg over his hips and maneuver yourself into a sitting position on his thighs. 

“You used your friend with a sickeningly fat crush on you to make me jealous.”

“Well, you got jealous,” you remind him with a small smug grin. “With a whole girlfriend, too, Haechan—you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Okay, we’re both something.” he gives in, and you nod, dragging your nails down his chest slowly and relishing the hiss and groan that he lets out. “Now what?”

“What do you think?” you ask softly, your head cocked to the side curiously.

“Are you asking me to leave her for you?” he asks, and the careful way he utters the words makes your skin crawl as you realize that ultimately, that choice will have to happen one way or another.

“No,” you say finally, the word feeling strange on your tongue, almost bitter with deceit. “Just know that the day I ask you to choose between me or her, you will have officially gotten me royally fucked up.”

He snorts in amusement, his hands moving to caress your hips. “Royally, huh?”

“Astronomically.” you stress with a solemn nod. “Egregiously, even.”

“That’s pretty fucked up.” he notes with a growing smile. “Hopefully we don’t get to that point.” He brings one of his hands to yours on his chest and laces his fingers between yours, lifting your entwined hands to his mouth to kiss the heel of your palm and up your inner wrist, your forearm, the crook of your arm, all the while pulling you closer to his mouth, moving your bodies until he’s rolled you over and slotted himself between your legs, lips now exploring the bare flesh of your shoulders, neck, and jaw before slowly moving to kiss you. 

He kisses you like he’s savoring the moment, clutching the back of your neck and moving his lips against yours desperately, his tongue seeking solace in the wet warmth of your mouth as he groans lewdly into the kiss.

“Haechan,” you gasp for air when you two part, and he hums sweetly in acknowledgment. “You can’t be seriously going for another round right now.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” he replies, shrugging with a small smile. “For now, just be good and let me love on you, baby.”

So you do just that, readily supplying all the pretty moans he urges from your lips and rolling your hips against his wandering fingers as his erection slowly stirs and hardens against your thigh. Every once in a while, however, you can’t shake the growing feeling that everything may be going a bit too well right now—that is, until he pushes into you slowly and draws a gasp from you, your thoughts almost dissipating entirely.

You hope and wish with all your might that this bliss could remain for just a moment longer but you know all too well that good things like this never seem to last.

TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the fifth part will be up in exactly one week! reminder that (only if you’re able) tips are very much appreciated, as is positive feedback! if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask and please make sure your privacy settings are updated accordingly!

LINKS: KO-FI // VENMO // CASHAPP // AMAZON WISHLIST // (if you’d like to support via paypal, let me know off anon!!)

DON’T WANNA WAIT TO FINISH THE FIC? it’s available in its entirety on my patreon here!

[hedgehog-moss]

I received a BroomSlayer 3000 for Christmas!

Behind its jovial mien lies a cold-blooded killer. It's got merciless jaws to clamp onto the plant and a heavy pivoting handle to extract the roots.

I think Father Christmas saw the Christmas Broom held hostage in my living room, under which he was supposed to leave presents, and realised I had reached a breaking point. Last winter I removed all the invasive shrubs in the pasture. I cut everything! Down to the tiniest baby broomlets! And one year later the place looks like this

It's luxuriant. It's humiliating. It's a boundless undulating broom prairie. Clearly as far as they're concerned, I just gave them a nice trim which allowed them to grow back even healthier. So I needed to try something more violent. Get to the root of the problem. (Sorry.)

(I noticed that the spot of last year's broom bonfire is still completely broom-free, but I have not yet reached the point where I set fire to the entire pasture and hope for the best)

Now let me demonstr

—wait a minute.

Is Pampe eating broom??

Ah, no. She's eating pointless, flavourless, leafless brambles which she wouldn't look at twice if they weren't right next to the plants I'd like her to eat, thus emphasising how much she is not eating these.

For a second here I thought you were being helpful.

I saw Poldine eating brambles instead of broom as well. Bad Poldine!

Poldine recovered from this heartbreak after I let her sniff the snow boots I got for Christmas. Just like cats (her idols) she enjoys inspecting new things. (She also enjoys pulling on the laces delicately with her lips to untie them. This game never gets old, if you're a mischievous young llama.)

Anyway. The BroomSlayer 3000 works!! But it's hard work. I did not think it was going to be hard work, because the website made it look so easy.

I wanted to take a little video of me uprooting my enemies but then I thought an illustration would better convey my emotional state—there was a demo video on the gardening website which sells the BroomSlayer and it was the loveliest most bucolic scene, featuring a polite tree who basically picked up its skirts and scampered away with a contrite gasp the minute it realised its presence was unwanted. I really thought uprooting things was going to be a picnic, because I am not immune to propaganda.

To be fair to the gardening website, maybe it's just broom. With that said, it's incredibly satisfying to pull on the handle and hear the delightful sskkrrhh sound of roots being violently torn out of the ground. It's an exhausting whole-body workout but eventuaIly I will grow stronger than broom. I made a murderous Veni Vidi Vici playlist to put myself in the right mood and with this musical support and my new antibroom weapon I will prevail.

[elysianightsss]

First dates always end bad.

Summary: You stress about your first date with John only to realise there was nothing to worry about.

You were ready. Almost. Make up? Done. Hair? Done. Clothes? On. Anxiety? Through the roof.

You were going out to lunch with John, fuck your heart was pounding so hard it was starting to hurt. What if you said the wrong thing? You thought as you grabbed your keys and stuffed them in your little side bag.

What if you trip over? You worry as you pulled on a cute pair of wedges. What if he rejects you? You breathe harshly as you shift through your sundresses trying to decide which one he would like the best.

Breathing harshly became hyperventilating. Your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to control yourself. How were you this panicked over a fucking meal with him? Had he given you any reason to panic? Any reason to worry?

“No, so chill the fuck out.” You scolded yourself and grabbed your phone.

You: What’s your favourite colour? 10:49am. delivered.

Your leg shook as you waited for his reply, palms sweaty, body temperature rising. You moved off the bed to open the window, letting the cool breeze into your bedroom. Turning to the left you notice your mirror and particularly how you look in the reflection. Nothing but bra, underwear and wedges on.

You stood up straight, breathing in and relishing in the confidence that slowly began to seep into your body. You looked good, now you’ve gotta feel good too. Your phone pinged pulling your attention away from yourself and onto John’s text.

John: Blue. 10:51am. read.

You almost stumbled with how fast you moved to grab your light blue sundress, pulling it over your hips and slipping your arms into straps. Hands grabbing at the strings at the back and pulling so the waist becomes corset like. You tied a bow and slimmed your hands over the material, admiring the little light yellow sunflowers that sat at the bottom when the dress became flowy ending at your knees.

Another texts pings on your phone.

John: I’m outside when you’re ready sweetheart. 10:55am. read.

“Okay deep breaths.” You told yourself, making sure you had everything before heading outside.

And there he was.

A black t-shirt with a blue checkered button down shirt worn as a jacket graced his muscular torso. Loose fitted dark blue jeans and black hiking boots. He was like your own personal cowboy, all that was missing was the hat.

The sight of him nearly made your knees buckle and he could definitely say the same about you. You were stunning in your sundress that just so happened to be his favourite colour. The way you drifted down the steps of your porch to meet him at your gate, the cute little wobble of your legs as you walked.

“Fuck me darlin, so fuckin’ pretty.” He wanted to apologise for his bad language but what can he say, he was stunned and you certainly bring out the more rambunctious side of him.

You smile wide, feeling your cheeks flush with heat. The air fluttered with anticipation, the way his heated gaze stared down at you. He leaned forward, getting closer, blue eyes flickering to your lips. So close. But then you hear the latch on your gate lift with a creak before he opens the gate for you to step out.

You do so with a pout that has John grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Look at you, pouting all cute just because I didn’t kiss you, he wants to say but all he can choke out is a grumbly, “Look at you”.

“So where are we going?” You nibble on your lip, anxiousness threatening to take over but you will it not to let it affect you or this moment with him.

“I have a little place in mind, c’mon.” He holds out his hand looking at you to take it. But suddenly you’re frozen, time standing still while your tired and frazzled brain takes a minute to process the situation.

John studies you and almost immediately understands that this is a big decision for you. How much must you have suffered to consider taking someone’s hand as a big decision. He waits patiently, no foot tapping, no sighing. Just pure patients while he watches you work out the issue in that brain of yours.

How he’d love to know what you’re thinking, your eyes glazed over with a similar look to what Simon had when he first met him. Before he got comfortable. He doesn’t have to wait long until you’re reaching to grab his hand. He smiles like a little triumph had just occurred before escorting you into his truck.

The drive was short which you were grateful for due to the hot weather. Only a few more weeks and the days would be shorter and the weather colder. You couldn’t wait.

John helped you out of the truck keeping hold of your hand as he walked you towards what looked like a cafe. It was cute and quiet. You spotted a salted caramel frappe on the menu that made your eyes light up, it was the first thing John ordered.

You waited for the food to be cooked and drinks to be made, the nervous jittery feelings you had bubbling in your system this morning was nowhere to be found now. Not when John looked every bit of a man you’d ever dreamed of, not when he picked up the tray after swatting your hand away from it gently, not when he chose to sit next to you instead of opposite just so he could continue to hold your hand under the table.

First dates always end bad, but maybe this one’s an exception.

[sp0o0kylights]

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds. 

Still.

 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 

Nope. 

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 

Likely a lot of things. 

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 

Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 

“I did.” 

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 

Wayne took advantage. 

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 

“‘Bout trust.” 

Eddie blinked at that. 

“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 

Wayne sat with him as he processed. 

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 

“What if he finds out?”  

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 

It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’ 

“He won’t.” Wayne said. 

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 

Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 

Wayne rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 

“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.