#this came to me at three am a few days ago and finally wrote it down

[ahfrickenfrick]

tim is a boygenius queer

cass is a mitski queer

steph is a penelope scott queer

i will not be taking questions at this time, thank you <3

[bvidzsoo]

Who am I?

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: mentions of a gun, cursing, smut

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

Word count: 14,2k

Summary: Going through the dark passageway late in the night really wasn't your greatest idea, but the angels were on lookout that night and sent Jeong Yunho as your savior. But what happens when you realize Jeong Yunho isn't at all what he seems to be?

A/N: Uh...hi? This piece here really shouldn't exist, like the way I wrote it was so against the routine I have when doing stories, I'm even shocked it became real. It also was supposed to be a mere longer drabble but oh well, I suck at writing short stories either way. Also, Jeong Yunho is a constant in my mind lately so...ig it was inevitable that I write something with him. *sigh* There's smut in here and ugh...yeah, I tried again lol. Leave feedback, I very much appreciate it and stay tuned for the next chapter of the rockstar!au Mingi story! Enjoy now and tell me your thoughts!

⟨Masterlist⟩

            It really was my fault; I should have been smarter before turning down the dimly lit passageway between the two tall buildings. But the path towards my flat was shorter this way, and I was in a hurry, desperate to finally get home after a long and busy day. The streets were quiet as night had settled upon the otherwise lively city and as I exhaled through my mouth, a little puff of smog appeared in the chilly air. My hands slipped deeper into the pockets of my black bomber jacket as I nuzzled my nose more into it, the tip of it unmistakably red. Winter struck upon us quite unexpectedly and the hope that we still had a few more days of sunshine and as little warmth as the sun could offer came crushing down when the wind picked up two days ago and snow started falling immediately. And what was even worse is that the temperatures dropped so low that everything had frozen over by now and it was slipper; in the past ten minutes I have almost fallen on my bum at least three times. But the little scare got my heart pumping faster, and I wasn’t feeling as cold as I was supposed to despite the layers of clothing adorning my body.

There was a light shuffle behind me, that was the first thing which caught my attention, and then suddenly, the dark figure standing a few feet ahead close to the wall, as if they were facing it, was the second thing to alarm me. My heart leaped slightly as my hands balled up into fists in my pockets, but I quickly tried to calm myself down. Not all men were evil and not all men wanted to hurt women, and I wasn’t even sure it was a man standing up front. My legs carried me faster and I gulped when the person whipped their head around to look at me. My hunch was right, it was a man, and he had a bloodied lip as I took in his face while still approaching. I quickly averted my eyes and quickened my pace, hoping that if I ignored him, he would ignore me as well. I had nothing on me if he decided to attack me, I could only hope my fists were good enough and I wouldn’t break my fingers if I was forced to use brute force. I only would have had to take three more steps to be past the man, but he suddenly jumped in front of me and I came to a halt as he squared me up. I tried not to let him see the fear I was feeling pulsing through my body as I clenched my jaw as my body lightly trembled from the adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream.

“Hey there, bunny.” My eyebrows furrowed at his raw voice, almost as if it was hard for him to speak as a disgusting smirk painted his lips. I suddenly wished I had taken the longer way, walked on the main road instead of this shortcut. When the man realized I wouldn’t say anything back, he tsked, “Are you shy, little bunny?”

Nicknames were annoying in a normal scenario and it was only making my skin crawl right now, but I remained silent, gripping the keys of my flat’s front door which I had in my left pocket. One wrong move from the man, and I wouldn’t hesitate to stab him with it.

“Why are you not answering me?” His voice got rougher and he took a wobbly step towards me, and without much thought, I whirled around with the purpose of walking back the way I have come, but another man was blocking my path. He looked lanky and was hunched over as his lips pulled into a scary sneer. I was cornered. My hands started trembling more as I took a deep breath, trying to think level headed, but my mind was clouded with panic as I searched for an escape route without much success. Before I could even react, the man with the busted lip approached me from behind and as I turned to be able to see him, his rough hand made contact with my left shoulder. I quickly yanked myself away and slightly crashed into the concrete wall of the building behind me.

“Don’t touch me!” I managed to snap out with a shaky voice, yet it sounded rough. It certainly didn’t match the way I was feeling, scared absolutely shitless.

“Is my little bunny scared?” If I wasn’t so scared I probably would’ve seen red at his claim over me, and it only made it worse as the other man chuckled. My eyes snapped towards him before quickly looking back at the other man when I realized he tried to grab at me again.

“I said, don’t touch me!” I shrieked and went to push him backwards, breathing irregularly as I was full on shaking, on the verge of a break down. But if I started crying I would look helpless, which I was, and I probably wouldn’t be able to see anything, so I willed myself to blink away the tears quickly.

“You little bitch, you wanna play rough?” The man spat as he had stumbled backwards from my push and I shrunk against the wall when the taller one suddenly started approaching, a hungry stare in his eyes. My lips started trembling and I went to yank out my keys and lunge at the taller one, but a very amused chuckle halted everyone’s actions. All I could think about was a third man coming to do vile things to me and at the thought, a few tears rolled down my cheeks, but I quickly wiped at them when I saw the battered-up man smirking in my direction at my distress.

“I thought I beat your sorry ass into unconsciousness.” At the hear of the third person’s voice, the battered-up man suddenly froze and his eyes widened as the taller one took a step back, leaving just enough space for me to run away, “What are you still doing out here?”

The battered-up one cursed under his breath before putting on a fake smile as he whirled around, facing the third man. I was too scared to look, shaking, as I pondered whether it was the distraction I needed to run away, “I was just playing with my little bunny, you should go on your way—”

“She doesn’t look like she wants to play with you, Siwon.” The third man snapped and my eyebrows furrowed at the familiarity of his tone. It resembled someone’s I knew from my university, but I remained unmoving as the tall man slowly backed away, “And you, Nikhun, I thought I said I didn’t want to see you around here, anymore…”

“I was just passing by.” The taller one, Nikhun, stiffly said before he abruptly turned around and took off almost in a run as the familiar voice just chuckled. My muscles slightly relaxed as I realized I could now just run back the way I had come, and moving slowly, I started heading just that way.

“I know I said I wasn’t going to kill you, Siwon,” The familiar sounding man tsked as I continued slowly walking with my back pressed up against the building’s cold wall, “But you’re really testing my patience lately.”

“Fuck you, man.” Siwon spat and I jumped when there was suddenly a loud crash and an exasperated scoff. I froze and didn’t dare breathe as I felt eyes on me. I didn’t know who was looking at me or what happened, I was scared to turn my head and look. I had to run. But as I pushed myself away from the wall, the familiar voice suddenly called out.

“It’s okay now, Y/N.” What—I whipped my head around and first took in the scene. Siwon, the battered-up man, was lying on the ground unconscious by the big trashcan. The loud bang must’ve been him. With wide eyes, I looked at the third man alarmed, and my jaw dropped as I stood staring at the familiar face of Jeong Yunho. Everyone knew him at university and everyone loved him. Jeong Yunho was like the sunshine. He was always smiling and laughing, cracking harmless jokes and hitting up a conversation effortlessly with anyone. He was kind and considerate, he always helped out anyone who needed help. He would carry your stuff if they were heavy and he’d walk you home if it was too late. He held the door open for anyone and he would make place for you at the Cafeteria if there were no more empty spots. The Jeong Yunho who was often found in the library with his nose buried in books, typing furiously on his laptop, and always turning in his assignments way before their deadline. He wore light colors and fluffy clothes, often paired with hilarious beanies and hats. But the guy standing a few feet away from me looked nothing like the Yunho I have taken glances at or heard stories about. Yunho and I weren’t friends, we were far from being acquittances even, but everyone knew him at our university and that included me. We were people from two very different universes and I had no idea how he knew my name. Yes, sure, we would cross paths in the library at times when I was in a rush as my deadline was a day or two away, and yes, I did almost spill my coffee on him once, but there was never a conversation involved or an exchange of names. Just a small, “Oh, my, God! I’m so sorry, that was a close call.”, and a “Don’t worry about it, you have great coordination, you stopped in time.” If I would have had great coordination, I wouldn’t have nearly ran into him, but I didn’t have the time to tell him that as I was late to work.

“Yun—Yunho?” I stuttered out finally once I was one hundred percent convinced it was Jeong Yunho. The dimly lit passageway made it harder to see his face from where I was standing and his clothes were unrecognizable, but it was his voice which confirmed his identity.

“Jeong Yunho in person.” He chuckled and I finally pulled myself together and slowly started approaching him. My legs were slightly shaky and I was still clutching my keys tightly in my left hand, but my heartbeat was slowly calming down. I passed by Siwon and took a peek against my better judgement, eyes widening when I saw the little trickle of red from the side of his head. Was he…going to die?

I looked up as I came to a stop a few steps away from Yunho and exhaled, coming face to face with a very unfamiliar looking Jeong Yunho. Despite the cold weather he was wearing a black leather jacket over what seemed to be a long-sleeved form fitting blouse with graphic design on it, and wide black jeans hugged his legs with the blouse tucked in, showing off his waist. His neck was decorated with various necklaces and as he extended one hand towards me, I noticed all the rings on his long fingers. I gulped as I looked back up at him, slightly intimidated and mostly confused. His black hair was completely pushed back and the usual fluffiness was gone from it.

“Come, you’re safe now.” Yunho encouraged me with his usual warm smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. My eyebrows furrowed as I reluctantly extended my hand and placed it in his palm, gasping when he yanked me forward, making me jump over Siwon’s slumped body. Yunho smirked as I somehow managed not to fall against his chest, big eyes staring up at him in shock, “Good thing I was passing by, angel, or else these two…”

He didn’t finish his sentence and he didn’t have to; I knew. I gulped and became aware of the awfully obvious height difference between the two of us and scrambled to pull my hand out of his, but Yunho’s grip suddenly tightened and he stepped closer, making me tip my head back as I tried looking in his eyes. My heart was racing once again and I could feel a blush creep up onto my cheeks as Yunho’s eyes examined my face with a small smirk, “What are you doing out here so late at night?”

“I—” My mind blanched for a second as Yunho’s cold fingers intertwined with mine, “I had the evening shift today, I—I was just walking home.”

“It’s unsafe at this hour.” Yunho’s voice turned stern and I averted my eyes, suddenly embarrassed that I was getting scolded by him, “And especially through this neighborhood, Y/N. You should’ve stuck to the main road instead.”

“I know.” I grumbled under my breath and Yunho chuckled, his voice deep, and it only made me flush harder as I avoided eye contact.

“Let’s get you home.” He said quietly and I looked at him alarmed, extracting my hand from his as he started walking us towards the end of the passageway.

“I can walk on my own—” I said in a panic, not wanting Yunho to walk with me. I wasn’t even far away, I have taken this route so many times before, I was going to be fine now that those two men were gone, but Yunho’s tone definitely made me rethink my words as he spoke up.

“You are not walking on your own, especially around here.” Yunho’s voice was sharp and he threw me a quick glare as he looked behind, at me, “Do you not know anything about this place?”

I shrugged and pushed my hands into my pockets again, “I do, but it’s not that big of a deal. I always walk home at this time and nothing has ever happened. I just had bad luck tonight.”

“Bad luck, you say.” Yunho scoffed, face contorted into disgust, “The things those two would’ve done to you would have been terrible, Y/N, and you call it bad luck?”

“Okay, fine.” I snapped and walked up to his side, giving him a wide-eyed stare, “Walk me home then, but this is fucking weird. How do you even know my name?”

Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed and his sharp stare made me gulp as I shrunk back, walking a little further away from him, “We go to the same university.”

“I’m not popular.” I deadpanned and Yunho shrugged, looking ahead as his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“You once scribbled in a book from the library and I was at the front desk when the librarian lost it. She rambled on about you for a good fifteen minutes before I was finally allowed to rent the book I wanted.” I cleared my throat in embarrassment, remembering well what the next day looked like when I walked inside the library. I have skipped going there for the next two months from shame as the librarian had screamed at me for ten minutes without even as much as taking a breath.

“Whatever, it’s still weird.” I muttered and nuzzled my nose behind the neckline of my jacket, regretting now that I haven’t worn a scarf. Yunho just chuckled and cast me a side glance as his longs legs carried him around faster than my shorter ones; it almost felt like I was jogging next to him. He must’ve been cold with how few clothing items he was wearing. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander towards him as I took in his appearance again, deciding that this version of Yunho was intimidating and quite…hot. His bright persona was certainly eye catching but this felt different, alluring almost.

“It’s not weird,” Yunho said with a chuckle, lips pulling into an amused smile, “I’m just observant.”

I hummed, but didn’t look at him as I asked my next question while we crossed the road, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Yunho chuckled again, but it was lower and as we looked at each other briefly, there was a dark glint in his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, mischief written all over his face, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I rolled my eyes and quickened my pace, just wanting to get home already. I was tired and cold.

“Do you have the evening shift often?” He asked after a minute of silence.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I fired back and Yunho laughed, head tilting back slightly, “Don’t expect me to give you an answer when you evade mine with a question.”

“You didn’t look like you’d be this feisty, angel.” My steps halted as I stared at Yunho incredulously, eyes slightly widening in offense. What did he mean by that?

“I’m tired.” I called out since Yunho hadn’t stopped walking and now I had to jog to catch up with his long strides, “And you’re walking too fast.”

“My apologies.” Yunho suddenly slowed down and looked at me with a big smile, the first time he looked like the Yunho I knew from university, “Sometimes I forget not everyone has long legs like mine.”

“Yeah,” I rolled my eyes, “I wonder how’s the weather up there.”

Yunho suddenly laughed, pressing a palm against his lips as it was loud, “I haven’t heard that one in long.”

I just hummed and cast another glance at him, confused of our whole conversation and the situation we were in. To be fair, I was grateful for him, of course I was, but the shock still hadn’t worn off and I was still slightly thrown off by his demeanor and change of personality…and looks. We continued walking in silence, steps hurried as the wind started blowing harder and all I could think about was Yunho being cold and getting sick because of his choice of clothing. However, the quiet didn’t last for long around us as we heard approaching footsteps, it sounded like they were running towards us. Yunho and I looked back at the same time and I failed to notice the way his expression hardened and jaw set. Before I could react, a heavy arm was draped around my shoulders and I was pulled into a sturdy body, warmth wrapping around myself and a masculine scent. I looked up at Yunho flabbergasted before watching the running man again as he came to a stop a few feet away from us.

“Hey, Yunho—” He panted as he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, “Finally found you, man.”

Yunho said nothing as he watched the guy, strengthening his grip against my shoulder when I tried to move away. My eyebrows furrowed as I struggled for a bit more, until Yunho clicked his tongue and I looked up at him, feeling his gaze on me already. His eyes were sharp and dark and I gulped as I looked away, stilling in his grip when he looked back at the younger looking guy, “What do you want?”

His voice sounded nothing like the friendly person I have been just talking to, it was ice cold and it made me shiver.

“Yeah, uh,” The guy glanced at me reluctantly, “Cheol wants the money. Soon.”

Yunho scoffed and rolled his eyes as I looked at him curiously, wondering where this conversation was going, “I thought I have made myself clear already, Chan.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, alright?” The shorter guy scoffed and stood up straight, his eyes hardening as he looked at Yunho now with a slight glare, “You’ve been avoiding us for months now, Cheol is getting fed up…so is everyone else.”

“And I have a reason for that,” Yunho snapped, anger coating his voice, “which you all know of. If you want my money, do your fucking end of the deal for once.”

“Was the merch not good enough last time?” Chan raised an eyebrow. These two were acting like I wasn’t even there, so I tried to get out of Yunho’s grip again, but instead, he gripped my nape and roughly pushed my head into his chest, making me gasp. I clutched against the collar of his leather jacket and tried to pull away, but Yunho’s strength was immense, so, instead my cheek was mushed against his firm chest, his musky cologne invading my senses and making my head slightly dizzy.

“If it were good, you would’ve seen the money by now.” Yunho’s voice held no emotions and I watched as best as I could from my position as he reached with his right hand behind himself, moving at what looked like lightning speed to me, but with my vision obscured I wasn’t able to see what was in his hand, “Go back to Cheol and tell him to get his fucking act together before I take action.”

“Asshole.” I heard this Chan guy snap and then an unsettling silence followed. I bit my lower lip and wondered what was going on, and it didn’t take long to find out as he spoke up soon again, “Got yourself a shiny new toy?”

“She’s a person, not a toy, Chan. And she’s not mine.” Yunho’s voice was rough and my breath halted for a second as I felt Yunho’s fingers twitch against my skin. I moved my head slightly to look up at him and caught the quick glance he sent down at me. It was dark and emotionless, yet it held a clear warning that I needed to stay quiet. My heart skipped a beat involuntarily.

“You better claim her then, before Cheol gets his hands on her—”

“Get lost, right now.” I have never heard such a threatening tone from anyone before, and my blood froze over at the anger and sneer in Yunho’s voice as he grabbed onto the back of my head tightly, making me freeze as I heard the click of something. Was…was he holding a gun? I gasped quietly as my fingers dug harder into the fabric of Yunho’s jacket and I heard the Chan guy cackle before his footsteps stared fading away. Yunho, however, didn’t move and I was too scared to do so as I realized I had started shaking. Suddenly, my head was being pulled back by Yunho’s hand on my nape and we made eye contact as he looked down at me menacingly.

“Not a word to anyone.” I exhaled shakily and frantically nodded my head as I dared to take a glance at his other hand, which, to my horror, held a black gun. My blood ran cold as Yunho released me at the same time as he put his gun away, behind himself, probably in the belt of his jeans, “Let’s go.”

And the rest of the walk was silent and hurried as I almost ran to finally get home, confused and scared and needing a shit ton of answers to the questions swirling in my head, which Yunho was probably unwilling to give. I valued my life above all, and therefore I remained silent, besides, the anger oozing off of him was enough to shut me up despite my sparkling curiosity. Who the hell was Jeong Yunho?

            The next day I did everything in me to forget about last night’s endeavors and about Jeong Yunho. I could act like nothing happened, like it was all just a dream. And everything was going well, until…until Yunho and I crossed paths in our university’s hallway. Well, we didn’t actually cross paths, but we saw each other briefly as I was walking with my best friend to class and Yunho was headed towards the stairs, the two of us on the two opposite ends of the long hallway. My friend was talking about the book she was currently reading and I would hum or nod along to her words, letting her know that I was paying attention despite being silent as we walked, my hands gripping the straps of my backpack. I nodded in agreement at her characterization of a character we both enjoyed from the book, when I finally looked ahead and my mind blanked. It certainly did feel like last night was a fever dream as Yunho stood on the other end of the hallway, black hair falling in soft curls against his forehead with his rainbow-colored sweater hanging loosely around his frame, big hands disappearing in the sleeves of it. His jeans were a faded grey and he was laughing as he talked to someone, eyes disappearing and cheeks puffed out. He looked nothing like the guy from last night and it gave me whiplash as his menacing and threatening eyes flashed before my eyes just as Yunho suddenly looked ahead, his eyes finding mine, looking at me with the warmest gaze anyone could muster up. I realized I was gaping, but I couldn’t help it when my brain convinced me that Jeong Yunho from right now and Jeong Yunho from last night weren’t the same person.

“Are you staring at Yunho right now?” My best friend’s voice finally snapped me out of my staring and I looked at her with the same wide eyes.

“I—yeah, but—” I needed to get it together, “That’s not Jeong Yunho.”

“Uh,” My friend looked at me like I had grown another head, “then who is he?”

“I don’t know, but—” I let out a long huff, eyebrows furrowing as I looked back at Yunho, “but that’s not the same guy from last night, I’m telling you.”

I could see the confusion on my friend’s face as she looked towards Yunho, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “He looks like—Yunho. I mean, what are we even talking about right now? Did you hit your head or something?”

“Stop it.” I snapped at her and pushed at her shoulder in frustration, making my friend glare at me, “He must have two personalities or something.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say about someone, Y/N.” My friend chastised me and I groaned in frustration. Of course she wouldn’t understand. She wasn’t there. She didn’t see the Yunho I have. Coming to think of it…I don’t think anyone had from around here, seeing as everyone was flocking towards him and acting so freely with him. His laughter carried down the hallway and it was soft, his cheeks slightly rosy as a girl leaned too close to him and he averted his gaze shyly. He was void of all the accessories he had been wearing last night and his clothes were what I was used to seeing him wear on a daily basis. He kept shifting from one foot to another as a guy threw his arm around Yunho’s shoulders as the two giggled about something, Yunho covering his mouth before whispering something to him back with a cheeky smile. The image of him holding a gun suddenly flashed behind my eyes and I jumped, sucking in a sharp breath of air. My friend looked at me like I was crazy and I averted my eyes from Yunho, looking at her like I have seen a ghost.

“There’s something very wrong with that guy, I’m telling you.” I muttered as I grabbed her wrist and pulled her in the opposite direction, scared of facing Yunho after his weird personality shifts.

“You sound super crazy right now, bestie.” I rolled my eyes and huffed as my best friend taunted, cackling when she saw the discontentment on my face.

            And the days passed just like that. Jeong Yunho, wearing every existing bright color, avoiding eye contact when he felt shy and hiding behind his hand when he laughed a little too hard. His cheeks had a flush to them constantly and he would carefully arrange his wavy bangs against his forehead. It was confusing. I was becoming convinced with each passing day that what had happened that night was just a fever dream, and that it was so real that my mind decided to believe it. Perhaps I was lucid dreaming or something, it wouldn’t be the first time. Two weeks had gone by since my strange encounter with Yunho and I have finally come to terms with the fact that maybe what happened wasn’t even real. It couldn’t have been, not when Yunho didn’t even glance my way once. Not when he remained the bright and lovely popular boy and I…continued almost missing my deadlines, which meant I was coped up in the library currently, searching for the book I needed without having much luck in finding it. I was too lazy to ask the librarian as I would need to descend the stairs, so I instead grew more and more frustrated as I stomped around between the bookcases. I was surely disturbing someone, but I didn’t care. Eyes set on the books, one title caught my attention and I stopped, hoping that it was the book I needed. It was at eye level and I pulled it back just enough to be able to see the cover and title of it. I felt like banging my head against the shelf when I realized it wasn’t the book I needed, and with a very loud sigh/groan, I pushed it back harshly, almost screaming when a human head was casually leaning against the bookshelf next to the book I had just examined. My heart beat like crazy as I gaped at Yunho, his warm eyes twinkling with amusement as his eyebrows were slightly furrowed. His baby pink shirt hugged his frame messily as the collar fell a little low, showing off the smooth skin of left shoulder, and his dark green cargo pants were an interesting choice to wear. Yeah, this was the Jeong Yunho I knew. Dressing quirky and looking almost like an oversized puppy as his lips were pushed into a pout. I couldn’t find any words to say so I just scrambled through my brain for something, pushing my hair behind my ears as Yunho continued staring. It was becoming too much, his gaze.

“What?” I managed to say, still at a loss and not knowing how I should approach him.

“Hi.” His lips suddenly pulled up into the brightest smile I had ever seen, and his eyes twinkled with so much warmth that I took a step back. I’m going crazy, aren’t I?

“Hi.” I willed myself to greet him back, taking another step back as Yunho took one towards me, smile still on his face. He didn’t say anything else as he proceeded to come closer and closer, making me chuckle nervously as I continued putting distance between the two of us, not for long though. My back soon ran into the bookshelf and I internally whined as it cut into my back sharply. Yunho came closer, caging me in between the bookshelf and his body, making my heart somersault as I looked up at him confused, but intrigued. He was still smiling, still looking as friendly as ever, still the bright and well-liked guy from our university. Suddenly, his arms raised and were placed on each side of my head, slightly above. Yunho went and leaned down a bit, crooking an eyebrow as my eyes widened and body shrunk against the hard shelf. His musky cologne wrapped around me once again, and the events of that night flashed before my eyes without a warning.

“What are you doing?!” I whispered, sounding panicked as Yunho looked almost confused by my reaction. Almost as if it didn’t make sense that I was reaction to him like this. But I had every reason to, I can’t be crazy.

“I’m looking for a book,” He said with a light tone, expression calm, “this is the medical section. You know I’m studying to become a doctor, right?”

“No.” My answer was instant; I had no idea what his major was. I only heard rumors about how great he is, not about what he does or studies here.

“Oh, now you know.” Yunho said surprised and looked above my head, grinning happily as he reached out. What the hell was happening?

“You’re majoring in architecture, right?” I nodded wordlessly, confused as to how he knew once again something about me. I never told him. Just like with my name.

“So, did the librarian tell you this too about me?” I asked, sounding a little accusatory, as I raised an eyebrow at Yunho. He chuckled and shook his head, looking down at me in amusement.

“Not quite, I figured it out when I saw you leaving class a good while ago.” Right. He saw me leaving class. Sure. My eyes narrowed at him and I licked my lips, about to slip away and go on my merry way as this whole interaction was weird and confusing, but as if Yunho read my mind, he stepped even closer, the front of our boots touching. I looked up at him alarmed, eyes widening as Yunho lowered one arm, holding a book.

“This is so weird,” I muttered to myself, feeling uncomfortable, “Is there something wrong with you?”

My question was quite offensive and I didn’t think it through before I said it out loud, but it didn’t seem to affect Yunho as he started giggling quietly, eyes becoming smaller as his cheeks flushed. How was this the same man from that night? Did he have a twin or something? Why would his name be Yunho too? Was he fucking around with me? Or did he just have multiple personalities?

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me, angel.” My body tensed at the nickname and I watched as Yunho composed himself, and yet, the Yunho suddenly caging me against the shelf wasn’t the same Yunho from just a second ago. The friendliness and warmth slipped from his face as his eyes slightly narrowed, darkening as a smirk appeared on his lips instead of the cute smile he directed at everyone. My heart started beating faster as he bit his lower lip, leaning down even more to be eye level with me, making my breath catch in my throat, “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“Something very wrong.” I managed to whisper as Yunho chuckled darkly, the knuckles of his free hand suddenly grazing against my cheek. I flinched, but didn’t pull away as his eyes ran over my face. The way his wavy hair fell in his eyes made them look sharper. He oozed danger and my mind screamed at me to high tail it out of there, yet my feet remained planted.

“There’s nothing wrong with someone who has a colorful personality, angel,” Yunho’s deep voice rang through my ears as he leaned in to whisper in my left ear, goosebumps erupting on my skin, “Have you told anyone about our encounter from that night?”

I quickly shook my head no and Yunho smirked, pulling back and gripping my chin tightly, yanking me forward and knocking the wind out of my lungs, “Good girl, keep doing that. I’m afraid something might happen to you if you decide to blabber on about it to someone.”

I shuddered as his piercing gaze kept me locked in, a whisper barely passing between my lips, “Like what?”

The sinister look which crossed Yunho’s face felt like a punch to my gut and I suddenly remembered the gun he owned. He’d shoot me. He’d kill me. Of course he would, something told me he wouldn’t hesitate or think twice about it.

“I would have to punish you—” He bit his lower lip as he paused for a second, making me realize I started shaking, “And not in the way I would love to.”

“Fuck.” I muttered, gripping his wrist and lightly pushing against it. His words were meant to be threatening, and they were, I was shaking after all…but his words also did something to me as my stomach twisted and body shivered, eyes subsequentially falling onto his red and plush lips. Yunho’s smirk widened and he leaned so incredibly close that I could feel his breath hitting my lips, his skin seemingly flawless from up close. My fingers closed around his wrist tighter as my back melted into the bookshelf behind me.

“Let’s keep it our little secret for now, angel.” His thumb swept against the skin of my chin, my face flaming at the motion, “And I shall reward you if you’re a good girl.”

“How?” I whispered, looking into Yunho’s dark eyes.

“You shall wait and see.” He winked and before I could think more about his words, he was gone just as quickly as he had come. I was left blinking confused at nothing and struggling to breathe regularly as Yunho’s warm, and big, hand left my skin burning where he had touched. What have I indirectly gotten myself involved into?

            Things happened the same way like the first time after my strange encounter with Yunho in the library. He didn’t look my way, he didn’t acknowledge me, he didn’t speak to me for at least a good two weeks. It was weird, everything he was doing. I had so many unanswered questions, but I pushed them to the back of my mind and hoped that whatever weird thing going on between Yunho and I would stop for good now. I didn’t want to get tangled up in something which felt so unsure and dangerous. I still haven’t forgotten the gun Yunho owned nor the conversation between him and that Chan guy. Even a dumb person would’ve understood that there was something illegal, at least, going on between the two of them and I didn’t want to get involved. However, the radio silence didn’t last for long as it was another Thursday and I was closing up the small convenience store I was currently working at. I had the evening shift again; the clock was close to hitting midnight and it was snowing heavily outside. I sighed when I realized I would have to walk twenty minutes just to get home. There were no signs of snow half an hour ago, it came out of the blue and I watched as a group of teenagers ran past the convenience store laughing loudly and having a snowball fight. I couldn’t share their joy as I shrugged on my coat, the weather had been nice today, I thought it wouldn’t get cold and thus abandoned my thick winter jacket, which I came to regret now. I switched off the lights and braced myself for the cold as I pushed open the door and instantly shuddered. There was a freezing chill in the air and it clung to my body as I quickly tightened the scarf around my neck, at least I had half a mind to bring one with myself. I struggled for a few seconds with the lock, it's been acting up for a while now but the owner didn’t bother to fix it, until I heard a click and pushed against the door, making sure I have truly locked it. I whirled around to stalk off towards the bus stop, with little hope that the last bus hadn’t went by already. However, I was quickly forced to stop by the sight in front of me. Yunho, painfully underdressed for the current weather, stood leaning against a black massive car. It was an SUV, a very expensive looking one.

“Evening, angel.” My jaw shouldn’t have almost hit the pavement, but I couldn’t help but gape at him. What was he doing here? Why was he here? Was that his car? How? Was he rich? Now that I come to think of it, I have no idea what Yunho does outside of university or the type of family he comes from. The sudden realization of knowing exactly nothing about him besides the persona he paints himself as was startling as a sly grin crossed Yunho’s features. It made my stomach flip.

“What are you doing?” I managed to ask, reluctantly walking closer to him. Yunho pushed his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket, which looked thicker than the one he wore on the night he had to save me from those two creeps. His jeans were ripped and black and a very tight, form fitting, white shirt clung onto his well-defined body. With a black baseball cap over his wavy hair he looked extremely handsome underneath the street light, I had to stop myself from letting my eyes wander all over his body once again.

“Saw how hard it started to snow,” Yunho spoke up casually, smirking when I stopped a few feet away from him, “Figured you might just take the shortcut again, so, I’m here to pick you up.”

“No, you’re not.” My answer rushed through my lips instantly and I looked at him startled, slightly taking a step back as Yunho pushed off his car, “I am perfectly capable of walking home and besides—I might still catch the last bus.”

“It went by while you were still locking up, angel, just accept my offer and stop being so stubborn.” Yunho sounded slightly irritated as he walked closer, head lowered so that I was able to see his eyes from this angle. They were narrowed and I gulped, realizing that he wasn’t playing nice nor would act goofy like at university, this was the weird and intimidating version of Yunho.

“Excuse me if I’m hesitant in accepting your offer, Yunho,” I snapped, slightly fed up with the constant whiplash this guy was giving me, “But I have no actual idea who you are and so far you’ve been acting like a stalker. You know my name, you know my major, you randomly show up when I’m in trouble and then you walk me home despite my complaints. You proceed to act completely different than the guy I’m used to seeing at university and you have strange conversations with weird people who are threatening you and are calling me yours like I’m simply just a piece to be put on display and you—you have a gun! And you’ve threatened someone with it. So, yeah, I don’t exactly want to get in your car for you to—drive me home? Or kill me. Or do something else to me.”

“If I wanted to do something to you or harm you I would’ve already done so, Y/N, I had plenty of chances for that.” My jaw hung open once again at Yunho’s instant reply, heart hammering at his admission. Is this seriously the only thing he’s taken from my rant? Which felt good to finally get off my chest, but it seemed to make no difference as Yunho shook his head lightly and suddenly invaded my personal space, taking me completely off-guard, “Who I am at university and who I am outside of it might seem like two completely different people to you, but it’s me. I’m not always happy, and goofy, and I’m not always in a good mood. I just don’t like showing the real me around people.”

“I am people, so what’s different?” I scoffed, glaring up at him, “We don’t even know each other so I don’t understand why you feel the need to drop your act around me.”

“Would you prefer me acting all fake, then?” Yunho’s tone was harsh and his face read displeasure as I allowed my eyes to soak in his expression. Would I prefer that? It was the Yunho I was accustomed to, but would I like that?

“I don’t know,” I managed to mutter out, averting my eyes when Yunho’s dark gaze became too much, “I guess I’m just used to that version of you and this—feels weird, perhaps scary.”

Yunho suddenly sighed and his shoulders slightly dropped as he looked up at the sky, his smooth skin glinting under the streetlamp, “I’m sorry if I scared you, that wasn’t my intention.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as Yunho looked at me again, our gazes connecting. He was sincere, his eyes were shinning with honesty and an almost innocent like gleam, just like the one I was used to seeing. I hummed wordlessly and looked away, feeling slightly more at ease in his presence. He just sighed quietly and I heard shuffling before I felt the weight of a big hand pressing against the top of my head. I looked up at Yunho wide eyed as he started patting my hair, almost as if he was flicking something out of it. The snowflakes, probably. My cheeks flamed at his action.

“Will you let me drive you home, then?” Yunho asked again, voice softer this time and features relaxed, “I don’t want you walking around late at night and in this weather.”

“Alright,” I gave in, clearing my throat as Yunho suddenly grinned widely, “But you should be worried more about yourself, you’re barely wearing anything.”

It made Yunho chuckle as he headed for the passenger seat’s side and opened the door for me. I muttered a small thank you as I carefully slid inside.

“I’m rarely ever cold.” Yunho said with a cheeky wink before closing the door and jogging around to the driver’s side. I allowed myself a quick check-out of the car, eyes widening when I saw the emblem on the wheel. I was sitting inside a Maserati Levante. Just how did Yunho afford this car? The seats were of black leather and it was definitely heated as I felt my body warm up quickly as the engine has been left on. Yunho grinned as he slid inside and quickly buckled his seatbelt, reminding me to do the same as he put on the blinker, signaling that he would drive off now. The car slowly started rolling, pulling away from the store as I gazed out the window, feeling slightly awkward that I was now enclosed in such a small space with Yunho. I took a quick peek at him and watched him gripping the steering wheel lazily, hair framing his face as tonight it wasn’t as wavy as usually. His eyes were set on the road and he licked his lips before glancing at me, making me quickly look back outside the window, hating the way my cheeks instantly flushed. And as we drove by the bus stop, my eyes widened when I spotted the bus which would’ve taken me home.

“You said the bus went by already!” I exclaimed and turned to look at Yunho slightly offended.

“Oh,” He hummed but by the smugness coating his face I knew he had lied on purpose, “my bad, thought I had seen your bus.”

I scoffed and shook my head, melting into the warm seat as I glared ahead, ignoring the fluttering feeling of butterflies in my stomach at the thought that Yunho only lied because he wanted to drive me home. Perhaps he wasn’t so awful at all times.

            Despite me feeling like Yunho brushed over my outburst that night, he seemed to change a bit. He started gradually approaching me at university and even hung out with me during our shared lunch breaks. He also started stopping by the convenience store whenever he had free time and I soon came to know that he lived just a few blocks away from it. Which was a surprise because I have been assuming he lived in some fancy rich neighborhood due to the car he was driving. Nobody really seemed to question our suddenly blooming friendship, although I felt like we still had a long way to go, and Yunho also stopped being so mysterious. He still didn’t answer all of my questions and often changed the subject when I asked about that first night, so I stopped asking about it after a while. I figured that I might get him to tell me at some point, and if not, I could always start asking around. People loved to gossip and maybe they would know something about this Chan guy who had called Yunho a few times while we were hanging out, but he always declined his calls. Tonight was supposed to be a chill night, but my best friend decided that she has had enough of staying at home every Friday and thus dragged us to a house party not far from our university. It was a half an hour walk away from my flat, so we opted to walk and just grab a cab on our way back. The house was large and packed with people as we made our way inside and I sighed at the sight of so many familiar faces. Almost everyone from our university was here and I realized I was tricked into coming to a party organized for our university specifically. My best friend just giggled as I have her a glare, already hating the fact that I had to stay here for hours and hours as she was in the mood to party. The only savior I found at the moment was alcohol, so the two of us made our way into the kitchen, both grabbing some beer from the fridge. Apparently, my best friend knew the host of the party and got us invited easily.

“I really needed this.” My best friend said as she threw her head back, downing half of her beer in one go. I raised my eyebrows at her as I sipped on mine casually.

“I can see that.” I chuckled and allowed my eyes to wander around the kitchen, taking in the faces. A few people above our grade were gathered around the sink, laughing about something and pointing at something. I wasn’t further interested, so I averted my eyes and noticed two friends of Yunho’s.  They were standing in the corner and laughing about something as the taller one had his phone out. My staring must’ve been insistent as he looked up and we made eye contact, a smile appearing on his lips. He smiled and waved as he called us over. Due to Yunho and I hanging out more often lately, he was quick to introduce me to his friend group. They were a nice bunch but a bit too energetic and happy for my liking. My best friend, however, was totally into their vibe and would beg me to hang out with them. It was fine, I knew she wanted to make some new friends and these guys were nice and…handsome.

“Hi!” Mingi was quick to greet us happily and I smiled at him, waving at Seonghwa as my best friend went and hugged him. The two seemed to click instantly, it was nice to see.

“Was it you who urged Sooyoung to come to this party?” I asked Mingi accusingly and he laughed as he looked down.

“It was actually her who gave us the idea of coming here tonight.” I hummed and threw a knowing look at my best friend as she didn’t bother focusing on Mingi and I, already wrapped up in a conversation with Seonghwa.

“I see, I should’ve known.” I chuckled and Mingi nodded while putting his phone away. It was a little unusual that these two were here without Yunho, but I didn’t question it. I knew he wasn’t a big fan of parties and besides, he didn’t tell me he would be coming. Therefore I didn’t expect to see him here.

“Did you finish your project?” I asked Mingi, remembering him complain about it two days ago. Mingi’s shoulder slumped and he started pouting as he stole my beer swiftly.

“Almost, I have to design the garden and then I’m done.” Mingi was a landscape architecture major and he was always busy with projects, barely out of the house if it wasn’t for Seonghwa and Yunho dragging him to places. He was quite dedicated to his work and it was admirable. Especially when I could barely find any inspiration to do my assignments. Whenever we shared a few of our classes I was amazed by his knowledge and drive to learn even more.

“That’s good, you’ve got this, Mingi.” I gave him an encouraging smile and he chuckled, looking at me knowingly.

“So, did you start your design?” I fake laughed and took a swing of my beer after taking it back from Mingi.

“You know me, I’ll do it two or three days before the deadline.”

“At this point I’m afraid you’ll fail.” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and I chuckled, shrugging.

“Don’t worry, I function best under pressure.” I saluted him mockingly and Mingi chuckled, soon our attention on Seonghwa as him and Sooyoung approached us.

“I really want to dance,” Seonghwa said, drunkenly gazing at Mingi, “Are you coming?”

Mingi just sighed but stood up, throwing an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders, “Of course, I’m coming. Someone needs to make sure you don’t trip over your own legs.”

Sooyoung and I chuckled as we followed after the two boys despite me not being too fond of the idea. I didn’t feel like dancing tonight, but I didn’t want to leave Sooyoung alone, and besides, I could see it in Mingi’s eyes that he didn’t want to be alone with the two. Whatever was going on between them, which both were denying, was pretty obvious.

The music was loud in the bigger room compared to the kitchen and I looked around, realizing it must’ve been a sort of library hence the bookcases on both sides of the room were filled with books. My heart broke a bit for the books, I could only hope no one was stupid enough to damage them. Otherwise the room was cleared up and there was a table with a mixing console on it, the DJ standing behind it and playing trendy songs everyone seemed to enjoy. The bas thrummed against my chest and I downed my beer in one go before I pushed through the crowd, making way for myself and my friends. Somewhere in the middle we found a good spot and formed a circle starting to dance.

I couldn’t tell how much time passed before I needed to use the restroom, but just as I went to tell Mingi I would be leaving for a few minutes, he leaned in to tell me that he needed some air. And so, after telling Seonghwa and Sooyoung where we were headed, Mingi and I took off hand in hand towards the exit. We agreed on meeting in the kitchen in around ten minutes before heading back to our friends, and so we parted, going on our way. The bathroom was in the far back of the house and I was thankful as the music didn’t reach here, I could finally hear my thoughts. The air was gradually better too compared to the suffocating heath in the library like room. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long to make it inside the bathroom and I was quick in doing my business, washing my hands thoroughly before splashing some cold water on my face, tapping it against my flaming skin. Perhaps I should join Mingi outside for a second before grabbing another drink. I huffed and smoothed down the top of my hair, baby hairs all over the place, before I unlocked the door and left the quiet bathroom. The hallways had no lights but it was fine as the living room was well lit up and it poured out here too. There was a staircase leading upstairs, but it was barricaded off and I knew not to go upstairs even if I wanted to. Just as I went to walk past the staircase, someone collided into my shoulder, knocking me slightly backwards. I gasped in surprise and looked back, surprised to see a slightly familiar face. The guy was younger, and he quickly apologized before a look of recognition crossed his features. Despite it being almost two months ago, I remembered his name. Chan. The guy Yunho threatened with a gun. I gulped and accepted his apology, about to walk off when he spoke up again.

“Don’t I know you?” He asked with narrowed eyes and I cursed silently, facing him again.

“Uh, barely.” I offered with a small smile and Chan hummed, eyebrows furrowing.

“Weren’t you with Yunho once?” So he remembered too, huh.

“Chan, right?” I raised an eyebrow and suddenly the guy was grinning and extending his hand towards me to shake.

“Knew it,” He said with a chuckle as I reluctantly shook his hand, “I don’t know your name though.”

“It’s Y/N.” I introduced myself and Chan smiled, his grip lingering for a second longer than necessary. It unsettled me as I cleared my throat and very obviously made to leave, but Chan seemed like he wanted to talk a little bit more.

“I had no idea you knew Jeonghan.” My eyebrows raised at the name and I thought for a second until I realized he was the host.

“I don’t, my best friend does though.” I explained and Chan hummed, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“Now that I come to think of it,” He took a step forward and I willed myself to not move backwards, “Yunho never mentioned you again after that night.”

Oh, well…that didn’t feel nice to know. I thought we were sort of friends by now, but maybe Yunho needed more time. Our relationship dynamic was still weird and most of times I didn’t know where to put us, so maybe Yunho was feeling the same way. Or maybe there was something dangerous about this guy and Yunho just simply avoided talking about me in his presence. Our encounter that night felt almost fresh in my memories and I willed myself to not think about the gun pointed at this younger guy.

“He must have a reason, then.” I found myself answering with a cold smile, ready to excuse myself finally, “My friend is waiting for me—”

“Just because he doesn’t mention you doesn’t mean we don’t know about you, Y/N.” His sinister smile and cold tone sent a chill down my spine and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Chan, “Do you have a tattoo?”

That was a very random question, one that took me off guard as my eyebrows raised, “Uh, no, I—”

“What a pleasant sight, Lee Chan.” A sharp tone cut me off and I turned my head to see Yunho approaching us in all of his tall glory. His glare was sharp and body stiff as he came to a stop next to me, instantly pressing his warm palm against the small of my back. It made me straighten up slightly as I gazed at Yunho’s profile, surprised to see him here.

“Thought you weren’t coming, Yunho.” Chan said with a chuckle, eyes falling between the two of us and the non-existent space between our bodies as Yunho pressed up against me, his musky cologne invading my senses.

“Maybe you should check on your friend, Chan, he might be unable to walk for a week or two.” The dark smirk which crossed Yunho’s lips made me gulp, and I watched as Chan’s expression fell, suddenly it felt like we were back to that chilly night out on the street.

“You son of a bitch,” Chan hissed and marched up to Yunho, who didn’t even as a little as flinched, “What did you do to Hansol?”

“Nothing he won’t survive.” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up at Yunho, who seemed to be unbothered by my piercing gaze. Chan hissed under his breath and with one lasting glare quickly stormed off, grabbing for his phone as he raced towards the front door. I released a breath I didn’t know I had been holding just as Yunho faced me, and I took in his attire in surprise. His black long-sleeved blouse was tight and was unclasped down to his chest, blank ink peeking through from underneath on his left pectoral. His outfit was completed by black leather pants and his black hair, which fell messily against his forehead. I was snapped out of my staring the second I felt Yunho caging me in against the railing of the staircase, big palm still pressing against the small of my back, eyes very slowly dragging up from his exposed milky chest to his chocolate warm brown eyes, which were narrowed and carried a hint of frustration.

“What did he want?” His voice was low and it brought a flush to my cheeks as I looked up at him, suddenly all too aware of the lack of space between us.

“Nothing much.” I muttered with a shrug, but Yunho didn’t seem to believe me as he lowered his head, eyes boring into mine. His gaze made my skin crawl and my fingers twitched as I placed my hands behind my back, doing everything in me I could to focus on his eyes and not on his cherry red plush lips, which were too close to my face all of a sudden.

“Don’t lie to me.” His right knuckles grazed against the skin of my cheek and I gulped as something coiled in my stomach. Was I this transparent? He could read me so easily.

“He just asked if I have a tattoo or something.” I answered after a beat of silence and Yunho’s eyebrows slightly furrowed as I dared to peek at his chest again, the ink more visible because of his stance. The collar of his shirt fell lower and I could make out a thick line which went in a circle and the tip of a letter, perhaps A?

“And what did you say?” His forefinger was suddenly underneath my chin as he tipped my head back, pulling my eyes away from his chest. I blushed furiously because of the amusement in Yunho’s eyes and the wide smirk on his lips, I was caught staring. His voice was low and breathy and I bit my lower lip for a second, trying to ignore his proximity and scent as his head seemed to be even closer to mine right now.

“No—nothing,” I exhaled and licked my lips, “you got here when I was answering him.”

“Good girl.” My legs shouldn’t have almost given out at his praise, but my mind wasn’t clear anymore. Yunho’s scent and proximity were intoxicating and I sure as hell wasn’t drunk from one beer, but everything about Yunho made me feel like it. I don’t know when it happened, but I couldn’t pull my eyes off Yunho whenever we were hanging out. And when we were at university, I was just like the others, flocking towards his bright and warm aura, desperate for his attention at times. When it was just the two of us, I yearned for his warmth and dangerous eyes, often breathless when his voice dropped to chastise me for something. When we hung out with our circle of close friends, I wanted his undivided attention on myself only. I had come to realize that Jeong Yunho was insanely good-looking and his mysterious aura was nothing but a little spark which made him even more irresistible.   

“Wanna get out of here?” I heard him asking once I was done daydreaming, “I know you don’t like parties.”

I nodded wordlessly and as Yunho slowly, without breaking eye contact, pulled away I almost chased after him, hands balling up into fists in order to prevent myself of doing something I might regret later. There wasn’t a label to our relationship, but friends certainly didn’t want to fuck each other, therefore I needed to keep myself in check and control my desires.

            After letting our friends know that Yunho and I would be leaving we got our jackets and went up to Yunho’s car. It was slightly dirty, which made me wonder where he had been as he had a habit of keeping his car crystal clean, even just a speck of dust made him wash it. The car ride was quicker than I expected as we flew through the quiet city, lights blurring at the speed Yunho was driving. He wasn’t a reckless driver, but it seemed like he was eager to get home. I couldn’t blame him, there was nothing better than the feeling of finally reaching home after a long and tiring day. I could imagine Yunho’s had been the same after he texted me in the morning that he had some business outside of the city and wouldn’t attend his classes, therefore we wouldn’t meet up. It was a surprise that he even made it to the party. It wasn’t the first time Yunho and I hung out in his apartment, but it was the first time I had come here so late and without a real purpose. Usually we huddled together to study, Yunho’s determination finally rubbing off on me to do to my assignments in time or when our friend group wanted to hang out and have a chill night.

After Yunho and I got settled, he went and grabbed a bottle of red wine, saying he needed it after the day he had. I didn’t complain as I watched him from the couch, body turned around and eyes running all over his frame. The clothes he wore did an amazing job at showing off his forms and I couldn’t help it but linger on his shoulders and waist as he had his back to me, grabbing around his counter while he had the wine in front of him. He popped it open without much struggle and then poured some red wine in two glasses, putting the bottle away. I watched as he turned around and leaned his hips against the counter, crossing one arm over his chest as he grabbed a glass and raised it to his lips, closing his eyes. He took a small sniff of the beverage before taking a long sip, letting out a content sigh. The image shouldn’t have made the hairs on my skin stand, yet all I could do was watch and gulp, mind blank until Yunho’s dark eyes snapped open and he smiled. It was mischievous as he spoke up.

“Won’t you get yours?” He pointed at the second glass and I hummed, wondering whether I should mix beer and wine, but it’s been a few hours since I last had beer. Besides, I was feeling fine. It shouldn’t do any damage. So, I pushed off the couch and approached him carefully, feeling fidgety under his sharp gaze. His eyes followed my every step as I stopped next to him and grabbed the glass, copying him. I sniffed it before I took a careful sip of it, the sweet taste exploding in my mouth. I hummed and took a bigger sip, appreciative of its taste. Yunho was smiling as he sipped his, and we remained standing like that as I tried to find anything to look at which wasn’t Yunho. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was getting too much and I felt like I needed to break it, so I spoke up, “You never told me you had a tattoo.”

Yunho eyebrows slightly raised, almost surprised that I knew, until he glanced down at himself and chuckled, “Ah, I forgot this blouse was low cut.”

“It’s not low cut,” I snickered, “You’re just wearing it like that.”

“Are you saying I should button up?” He asked with a playful smirk and I just smiled while shrugging. If he did that perhaps I would stop staring, but I wasn’t about to say that to him.

“So…does it mean anything?” I asked nonchalantly, having now an excuse to look at his exposed chest as Yunho glanced down too. He remained silent as he looked up, eyes searching my face for a few seconds before he lowered his glass on the counter.

“Not one you’re expecting to hear.” He said lowly and I raised an eyebrow as he suddenly stepped closer, looking down at me with a serious expression and darkening eyes, “Do you want to know?”

I gulped and busied myself with the glass I had in my hand as I looked down at it, pursing my lips in thought. I was trying to ignore the rapid beating of my heart but Yunho took away my only distraction as he took the glass from my hands and placed it on the counter next to his, now I was forced to look at him.

“I guess.” I muttered, hoping he couldn’t hear the shake of my voice. His scent was once again all around me and it was hard to focus on anything he was saying.

“But if I tell you…” He took a step forward, making me step back and collide into the counter, “and you tell anyone…”

My body tensed as he reached forward and pressed his thumb against my lower lip, eyes focused on my lips, “I will have to kill you, angel.”

I gulped as I shuddered, and Yunho lightly dragged my lower lip down, licking his lips as we looked at each other. His gaze was challenging and dark, lips about to break into a sneer as I was scared but intrigued, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“How can I know for sure?” Was he testing me? His voice dropped to an almost whisper and he cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised almost mockingly, “You have a vengeful personality, who knows what you’ll blabber on about if I happen to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt me then.” I snapped and Yunho chuckled, but there was nothing amusing about it.

“Are you reckless or simply dumb?” He was taunting me and I didn’t like it. I grabbed his wrist and glared at him, pulling his hand back and thumb off my lips.

“That’s some nerve coming from someone who was everywhere I went and knows everything about me without actually knowing me.” Yunho’s lips pulled up into an amused grin at the way I snapped at him, nose scrunched in annoyance.

“I’m in a gang,” He stepped impossibly close and placed both hands on the counter on both sides of body, “A very dangerous gang, the tattoo is to signify where I belong to.”

I gulped, slightly thrown off. I was expecting many reasons to answer the enigma around Yunho, but I didn’t exactly envision him being involved into gang activities or the mafia, even. Was he just simply not saying? Wouldn’t be the first time he lied to me.

“Why did Chan ask if I have a tattoo?” My voice was hard and I tried not to shake when I felt Yunho’s large hands gripping my waist. His hold was firm, like he was afraid I would run away.

“Because,” Yunho licked his lips as he lowered his head so I didn’t have to crane my neck up so high, “if you’re mine you have to get the tattoo as well.”

“But I’m not yours.” I quickly said as I tried to process everything and ignore the way Yunho’s grip tightened around my hips and jaw clenched, “And I don’t want to have a tattoo.”

“Then you won’t have one,” Yunho’s tongue peeked out as he liked his lips swiftly, his eyes glued onto my lips, “But you are mine, Y/N.”

Before I could ask him since when, Yunho closed the gap between us and pressed his plush lips against mine. I didn’t mean to flinch, but it was unexpected and rough as his hands on my waist pushed me up onto the counter, easing the height difference a little between us. I kissed back when I felt him about to pull back, probably thrown off by my lack of response, and Yunho was quick to smash his lips against mine with a fever, setting a hasty and messy rhythm as my head was tilted back and arms circled around his shoulders. It was everything I have envisioned and yet nothing like it. His lips were plush and warm yet rough and relentless as he bit at my lower lip, almost as if he was trying to inhale the whole of me. His scent was the only thing I could smell around us and my brain was fogged up as Yunho’s lean body pressed into mine, pushing me flushed against himself by placing his hand on my back. My legs parted wider, making more space for Yunho as one of my hands traveled towards his hair, gripping at the black wavy strands firmly. His warmth was overwhelming and it made me breathless as his large hand wrapped around my neck as if he needed something to hold onto. My lungs were screaming for air and I pulled back once it got too much, lightheaded as I leaned forward, teeth attaching against the soft skin of Yunho’s neck. His chest was falling and rising rapidly, just as breathless as I was feeling, the hand from my neck traveling to my nape as I pressed open mouthed kisses against his skin, lips trailing down to his collarbone. Yunho groaned when I bit lightly at it, teasing and licking, before I was pulled back and forcefully met with lips against my own. It didn’t take long for Yunho to push his tongue against my lips, asking for permission. I opened up without hesitation, letting him take the lead as his wet tongue licked against mine, humming, the vibrations traveling through my whole body as I pulled on the smaller strands of his hair. Yunho tasted like the red wine he just had, sweet and so intoxicating that I couldn’t get enough of him. His tongue explored my mouth as my hips bucked against him and I wasn’t surprised to find him just as affected as I was feeling. I could feel him through his leather pants and the friction was much needed against my throbbing core as I grinded against him once again, catching his lower lip between my teeth as he went to pull back. Yunho’s eyes were the darkest I had ever seen them and his cheeks were lightly flushed as he grabbed my nape firmly, jaw clenching and lips plump from the kissing.

“Bedroom, right now.” His voice was raspy and it sent a chill down my spine as I quickly clung onto him, legs firm around his waist as he walked us to his bedroom, large hands holding me up by my ass and allowing me to grind against him as Yunho groaned and nipped at my lower lip until we were standing in his dark bedroom. He carefully lowered me and onto the ground and I was quick to get rid of my jeans and shirt, helping Yunho in undoing the zipper of his leather pants as he had gotten rid of his blouse. I allowed myself to stare unabashedly at his body, taking in his lean but muscular form as he towered over me, stomach well defined and thighs thick. It was a sight worthy for drooling and I snapped out of it when Yunho started walking me backwards, not expecting me to palm him through his boxers. He sucked in a harsh breath and allowed me to feel him up and massage him before I was pushed down onto the bed by my shoulders. I scooted back before he crawled towards me and leaned down to press kisses against my neck and shoulder, tongue flattening against the flush skin of my collarbones before he sucked hard at a patch of skin, making me groan at the sting. His kisses didn’t stop there as he kissed down between my breasts, biting at the skin before he continued, all the way down to my stomach. I was panting and itching to grip onto his hair, but his face was in front of mine in an instant and he kissed me breathless once again. My nails dug into his back as my hands roamed over it, mapping every flaw of his skin, soaking in his warmth. Before I could register it, his fingers were ghosting over my thigh and slowly itching closer to my panties. I groaned into his mouth as he yanked them down, eyes opened as Yunho pulled back just slightly, hot breath hitting my face as one finger slowly slipped inside my wet hole. I gasped at the feeling and Yunho groaned, lips pressing against my cheek as he pushed himself up by one hand near my head. He slowly started thrusting it in and out, making my eyebrows furrow as he dragged the movement out, not waiting long to add another long finger. I grabbed his arm as my toes curled and hips lifted off the soft cover of the bed, trying to meet his lazy thrusts. They weren’t enough and they made my skin burn as my other hand tangled into his hair.

“Please, Yunho,” I whispered out, moan choked back as his thumb pressed against my clit, stomach coiling at the added sensation, “Faster.”

His teeth bit into the skin of my jaw, not hard enough to leave a bruise as he slightly picked up his pace, fingers curling against my walls and making my back arch off the bed as he rubbed harsher and faster against my clit, fingers thrusting in and out. A knot was forming in my stomach as more sound left my lips, sharp exhales and broken moans as Yunho’s fingers reached the spot which made my back arch off the bed, my own hips picking up its pace as I chased for an orgasm.

“Such a good girl,” Yunho rasped in my ear, making me moan as his finger grazed the spot again, “you were so patient for me.”

“Yunho.” Our eyes connected and I pulled his head closer by the hand I had tangled in his hair, “Please—”

“Not yet.” He bit my lower lip as his hand stilled, making me whine as my walls clenched down against his fingers, every nerve in my body burning. I tried to move my hips despite it, but Yunho’s fingers quickly were pulled out from where I needed him most and I watched helplessly as he sat back, the tent in his boxers obvious. He proceeded to pull my panties all the way down before getting rid of his own boxers, pumping himself as his head fell back. I watched with hungry eyes as his size came as no surprise, matching the massivity of his body. He reached over my head, holding a package as he opened it, putting on the condom before he hovered over my body. For a second he didn’t move and my skin tingled in anticipation as I reached my arms around his shoulders, pulling his hot body against mine, whispering in his ear.

“Yunho, just fuck me already.” I didn’t expect him to moan and before I could blink, his tip was at my entrance, slowly pushing in. My mouth opened as I clenched my eyes shut, surprised at the burn as he stretched me out more and more as he slid inside. He was bigger than anyone I was with before and I needed a moment to adjust to his size as Yunho pressed kisses all over my face, biting my earlobe.

“You can’t tell anyone.” He said lowly, and despite our predicament I heard the threat in his words.

“Which part?” I questioned despite knowing what he was talking about, hand trailing down his smooth back.

“The gang part.” Yunho clarified, as if I needed it, lightly thrusting up. I gasped and gripped his sides, walls clenching around him, making him groan.

“I won’t, I won’t, just—” My voice broke off as he did the same again, smirk on his lips, “Move, please, Yunho.”

“As you wish, angel.” He whispered in my ear before pulling out almost all the way and slamming back inside, making me gasp loudly as I didn’t expect it. Yunho’s smirk stayed glued to his lips as he did it again, ripping a loud whine from between my lips, nails digging into his skin as he set an excruciatingly slow rhythm. It did no good but rile me up and make me reach around for anything to hold onto as my body flamed, walls clenching more around him, desperate for more friction. But Yunho seemed to enjoy the desperate state I was in as he chuckled, and suddenly, I felt his big hands bringing mine together, pushed above my head as he pinned my wrists together and pushed them down harshly into the mattress. He suddenly was moving, getting up onto his knees and sitting back as his right hand slipped under my lower back, guiding me up, lower back hovering in the air. Yunho only paused for a small second, eyes connecting with mine before he moved, sharp and clear, pace nothing like the slow one previously. I moaned loudly as he started rocking his hips harshly, pace relentless and dick reaching deeper than before, making my hands ball up into fists as I couldn’t hold onto anything with Yunho pinning them above my head. It didn’t take long for Yunho to get vocal, cursing under his breath as his eyes were closed and he was biting his lower lip, pace picking up the louder my moans got. I couldn’t focus on anything else but the pleasure building up in my lower abdomen and the electricity coursing through my veins, mind wrapped up in the scent of Yunho, the feel of Yunho…Yunho.

“Yunho.” He was the only thing I could think about and at the desperation in my voice he got rougher, pistoning his hips at an unforgiving pace, making me cry out in pleasure as my hips thrusted up, chasing for an orgasm as I tried to meet Yunho’s frantic thrusts. He finally released my wrists and gripped my hips firmly with both hands as he helped me move against him, my head thrown back at the constant ripples of pleasure as my fingers tangled into the sheets above head and twisted hard, moans of Yunho’s name tumbling through my lips. He was panting loudly and whines left his lips as I could feel him throbbing and I knew he was close like I was.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He moaned out as my walls clenched down hard on his length, toes curling and mind completely fogged up with pleasure. The second his cold thumb started rubbing circles against my clit I saw stars and I came with a high-pitched moan of his name, Yunho’s hips stuttering before he guided my hips, riding out my orgasm just as he muttered a quiet fuck before he came too, groan low and guttural, movements never ceasing until it became too much and I whined, gripping his wrist in an attempt to ask him to stop as I haven’t managed to find my voice yet. Yunho groaned as his hips stuttered and slowly stopped, panting hard as he stared down at me. My eyes took him in before they stuck to the tattoo on his left pectoral. It was big. A big circle going around the letter A and cutting into it at the bottom. I shuddered as he slipped out and got off the bed, leaving my limp body on the bed to recover as my fingers tangled in my hair in an attempt to tame the wild strands. Yunho got rid of the used condom before he stood by the bed, towering over me. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he leaned down and tucked the covers away, effortlessly picking me up and slipping me underneath them. He got in next to me and pulled the soft covers over our bodies. I sighed in content at the warmth spreading over my naked body and nuzzled my nose into the pillow which smelled so much like Yunho. I felt him shift behind me before the front of his big body was pressed against my back, a hand coming around my body to hold me. I didn’t expect him to grip my neck firmly and push me back even more into himself as he slightly leaned over me. I was able to look at him from the corner of my eyes and I watched the menacing look on his face and the darkness in his chocolate brown eyes as he leaned close enough to be able to whisper.

“You don’t have to get a tattoo,” Despite his expression, his tone was soft, “but you’re mine and everyone else will know about it. I’ll make sure.”

I gulped as Yunho pressed a chaste kiss against my cheek before his long fingers slipped from my neck, making me realize I had been holding my breath. I released it shakily and felt him settle down behind me once again, nose pushing against my shoulder blade as his arm was firmly planted around my middle.

“Alright, let’s say I’m yours for now.” I found myself saying, but didn’t expect the chuckle from Yunho. I didn’t like being called nicknames nor being claimed like I was an object, but they didn’t sound so bad coming from Yunho’s mouth, they held no menace nor ulterior motives.

I didn’t know what this made us, but I knew I had one or two secrets to keep and that Yunho wasn’t letting me go nowhere from his sight.

⟨Part 2⟩

[delulujuls]

crumbs | op81, ln4

hi! i hope you don't mind that i am serving another landoscar you can probably already tell how many comfort i am finding in the papayas

anyway please enjoy and feel free to send requests if you have any!

summary: y/n gained a little bit of weight and didn't get well with that

warnings: problems with eating, body dysmorphia

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver x lando norris

"I would eat pizza"

Y/N wrinkled her nose, hearing Lando's suggestion to her left.

"Pizza? You can afford more than that" she replied, eyes glued to the screen while browsing restaurant offers on her phone.

"Pizza is always a good option" he added, shrugging and looking at Oscar for support.

Piastri let out a sight and streched his legs.

"Pizza is a safe choice, I must admit"

"Seriously? You too?"

The girl looked up from her phone and glanced at the aussie sitting to her right.

The three friends were sitting outside the medics' room, waiting for their routine check-ups before the race. It was lunchtime and they were intensively pondering what to eat.

"I would love some Mexican, but I'm not sure if it's a good idea" Oscar said after a few minutes of thinking.

"It's a shitty idea if you ask me" Lando laughed at his own excellent joke and continued until he entered the room for tests, leaving his friends alone.

"I would go for sushi, but I know this big baby won't let me eat fish in his presence" Y/N said, referring to Lando's picky choices.

"How about a burger?"

Oscar asked, glancing at her phone and pointing to a restaurant. She handed her phone to him and they both started looking at the menu.

"It looks decent enough"

After Lando came out it was time for Oscar and then it was Y/N turn. She had her blood pressure, sugar, and blood test taken. Finally, it was time for her weight check. Without thinking too much she took off her shoes and stepped on the scale, straightening up and looking ahead.

"Are you before your period?"

The girl blinked a few times, somewhat taken aback by the unexpected question, but she shook her head.

"Two weeks ago before the race you were four kilos lighter"

She looked down at her body and was surprised by the number on the scale. At the nurse's request she repeated the measurement, but it remained the same.

"Is there a chance that it's a weight scale error?" Y/N asked as she put on her shoes.

The nurse shook her head and wrote down the results.

"Lando and Oscar's weights are the same as during the last measurements, so i guess it's not about the scale"

The girl felt embarrassed. Did that mean she had actually gained weight?

"Do you stick to your diet and training?"

"Yes, I'm trying as best as I can" she quickly nodded, but the woman still looked dissatisfied.

"I'll inform your coach and dietitian, but you need to have more self-discipline."

Y/N nodded and lowered her gaze, feeling bad about herself. When she left the examination room, she noticed Lando and Oscar were still discussing where to eat that day.

"We thought burgers would be a good idea, but we changed the place, let us know if it suits you."

Oscar said, handing her the phone. She took it, but her appetite had completely left her, along with her good mood.

"I don't feel great after the blood test, so I'll pass on lunch today."

"We can eat later when you feel better" Lando suggested, glancing at her. Oscar agreed, nodding.

"No, you can go on your own."

"Then pick something for yourself, we'll get it for you to go."

Y/N handed back the phone and shook her head.

"No, there's no need. I need to rest for a while and I'll eat something later."

Her friends insisted for a while, but she remained adamant. When they lost the verbal battle with her, they both left the hotel together and she returned to her room. She immediately went to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. She carefully observed herself from every angle, raising and lowering her shirt, sucking in and relaxing her stomach. She didn't think anything had changed in her appearance, but the longer she looked at her reflection, the less she was liking what she was seeing. She slipped her finger under her waistband, trying to remember if her pants had been looser at some point. She leaned closer to the mirror, examining her face. Were her cheeks perhaps less round?

The girl shook her head, left the bathroom and sat on the bed. So yes, it is a fact. She had gained weight, which didn't bode well, especially for her performance. Not wanting to succumb to negative emotions, she got up and changed quickly, wanting to start her training for the day earlier. She headed to the hotel gym, spending two hours doing cardio exercises which killed any appetite she had left and certainly any craving for food.

"I thought I was the only one who came here with such a big head start" her trainer joked, putting his bag with her training equipment on the floor. Seeing her sweaty and flushed from exertion, he furrowed his brow.

"How long have you been here?"

"Not long, just warming up. We can start, im ready"

She replied, pretending not to have any trouble catching her breath. She wiped her face with a towel and took a sip of water. In reality, she had had enough.

After another two hours of intense exercise, Y/N had had even more than enough. If that was possible at all.

And that was how her days started to passing away, quickly turning into weeks. She spent more time on training than necessary, completely avoiding recovery time. She also avoided going out with Lando and Oscar, knowing it was better to avoid them than to come up with excuses for not ordering anything to eat and only drinking water with ice. But there were moments like this, when avoiding them was impossible.

After the pre-race conference, there was a big dinner from which Y/N couldn't escape. Everyone was milling around big swedish tables with their plates in hand, but she sat on the side, clutching a bottle of water. Suddenly, a plate of freshly prepared lasagna appeared in front of her. A few pieces of broccoli and a small portion of greek salad, her favorite, lay next to it. Lando and Oscar sat down in front of her, their plates also filled with delicious food. There was no way out of this, but she couldn't let herself be defeated.

"I took you some yummies, don't be grateful too much" Lando said and sat down, starting to eat. She forced a smile and held her fork, pushing the food around her plate. She took a knife in her other hand, starting to cut a piece into smaller portions while maintaining an active conversation with her friends. Her utensil movements were dynamic, she speared the food, waved it near her mouth. However, no piece eventually made it onto her tongue and not a single calorie disrupted her balance. Another great success.

Both Oscar and Lando easily sensed the change in her behavior. They had noticed it a while ago when she began to avoid them like the plague and when she was with them, she wasn't the person they used to know.

"We see what you're doing and you better stop that or at least tell us what's going on" Lando said firmly, setting aside his utensils. She looked at them, pretending to be surprised.

"You know what I'm talking about"

"I have no idea" she replied immedietaly.

"You haven't eaten anything even though your plate is full of your favs" Oscar pointed out.

"I just don't have an appetite, I ate earlier"

"You haven't eaten earlier, Y/N"

Oscar shook his head, looking at her with concern.

"You have no idea what I was doing earlier.

The girl said, shaking her head in irritation. What did it matter to them whether she ate or not? They had probably noticed she gained weight so they knew her results would be poor, which meant she would be worse than them. She wouldn't be worse than anyone.

"It's just that we don't know because you cut yourself off from us without a word"

"I didn't cut myself off from anyone"

"You stopped spending time with us, you don't talk to anyone and it's almost impossible to reach you so how you will call it other than cutting yourself off?"

Y/N snorted, shaking her head.

"This is absurd"

"We're just worried, that's all"

Lando said, not angry but genuinely concerned. And even if he was angry, it was only with himself for not knowing what was happening with his friend.

"No one has to worry about me"

She cut him off and stood up. She had no intention of listening to this nonsense but when she got up abruptly, her head spun and she staggered uncontrollably. Oscar caught her just in time and he exchanged a meaningful glance with Lando. They held the girl tightly and the three of them left the dinner.

Once they were outside, the cold night air somewhat cooled Y/N's unwarranted anger. Lando and Oscar were her friends, not enemies and none of them had ever made her feel like they had ill intentions.

"I feel weak" she finally admitted, squinting her eyes. After a moment, she felt something warm tickling her lips. Lando cursed when he saw a trickle of blood from her nose. He began frantically searching his pockets, but Oscar was faster and pressed a tissue to her nose.

"It's okay, just breathe"

Piastri said calmly, sitting her down on a bench. He laid her down, gently placing her head on his lap, telling Lando to lift her legs. He did what he was told, but he felt like he could faint at any moment himself.

The three of them sat in silence and Oscar and Lando from time to time were exchanging worried glances. They didn't want to press on Y/N too much. They knew her nature and that she had to open up to them on her own.

"I lied" the girl said quietly after few minutes of silence, so quietly that Oscar and Lando thought it was just the whistle of the wind.

"I didn't eat anything today. Yesterday, too and the day before either"

"You haven't eaten anything for three days?" Lando asked, looking at her with concern. She weakly nodded.

"Why?"

"I gained weight"

"Who told you that you gained weight?"

Lando asked, frowning his brows. He was ready to throw hands with anyone who let his friend down.

"It came out during the check. I gained weight, which shouldn't have happened"

"And that's why you stopped eating? Completely?"

"I shouldn't eat"

She admitted, still pressing the tissue against her nose. She felt her eyes filling with tears. She hated being weak, but that was exactly what she was in that moment. Just weak.

"You should eat, you need to eat," Oscar said, wiping away the tears that escaped her eyelids "Everyone needs to eat"

"Not me"

"Everyone deserves to enjoy delicious food, especially you"

"It would be better for me if there was no food in the world"

"You're being silly" Piastri said, gently caressing her cheek. She opened her eyelids and immediately met a pair of big brown eyes, looking at her calmly.

"We'll take you to your room, you'll rest. One of us will bring you something good to eat and you can have it in peace without any weird glances. Okay?"

She nodded weakly, not being able to continue this fight. Shortly after that all three of them were in her bedroom. They sat on the bed, each of them having a paper plate with something to eat. Oscar and Lando were already quite full, but they wanted to show their support to their friend, so each of them took a large piece of cake.

Y/N looked hesitantly at her meal, her nervous gaze shifting between her friends.

"This is safe food, good ingredients. Your stomach will thank you for it" Lando assured her, smiling encouragingly.

She nodded and slowly started eating. Lando and Oscar joined her, and they ate in silence. No unnecessary comments, no lectures. Just the comfort offered by friends. And nothing tasted better than that.

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬 - 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 7.6k (i got very carried away im sorry)

summary: after months of feeling like you've lost quinn, he ends up losing you. will the two of you find your back to each other?

warnings: angst, self-destructive tendancies, drinking, cursing, MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut, shower sex, fingering, oral (fem recieving), unprotected sex (use protection guys), teeny bit of a praise kink, brief breath play, please let me know if you see any mistakes. i finished this at 2 am and my vision was a little blurry at that point

note: this is part of my follower celebration! i'm so glad i finally wrote about the future captian of the vancouver canucks please guys im begging you.

Two years ago, you had met Quinn Hughes through a mutual friend, and he’s been a part of your life ever since. In the beginning, the two of you took things slow, wanting to truly get to know each other before getting into a relationship. Quinn wanted to make sure that his intense schedule that involved him being gone for long periods of time wasn’t going to overwhelm you, or make you feel alone. You wanted to make sure that, after all you had gone through, Quinn was going to remain a man of his word and make your relationship work despite the many odds that came with his job. And he did, at first.

For the first year and a half that you were with Quinn, he was texting, calling, facetiming as often as he could when he was gone. If he wasn’t doing something that related to his commitment to the hockey team, he was talking to you in some way. He would send you pictures of the places he would visit with short captions of how he wished you were there with him, and you would always smile at them and tell him that you would be, one day. Though, a few months ago, those texts started to become less frequent, and when you did get them, they sounded forced, almost like they had been rehearsed.

For a while, you tried to reason with yourself. Telling yourself that he was just getting busier, and the stress was getting to him. You tried to understand just how demanding and exhausting his job must be, so you brushed off his deteriorating communication. Instead, you tried to hold onto the hope that when he was finally back home, things were going to go back to normal. Quinn was going to walk back through the door to your shared apartment and hold you until you fell asleep. Then, that stopped happening too.

The first time you realized that Quinn was truly pulling away from you was when he didn’t come straight home after a seven day roadie. He hadn’t even told you that he was close to home yet. You only found out because Natalie had posted a snapchat story of JT holding Owen, and you were immediately dialing your boyfriend's phone number. Your heart sank when it only rang three times before cutting to his bland voicemail message.

You remember spending the rest of that night crying into your pillow, thoughts of what you could have done to make him distance himself from you clouding your brain. You knew that hockey players had an abysmal reputation, but you have never lumped Quinn into that group of men. You’ve always thought the world of him, considering yourself lucky to have the luxury of being loved by him. This had you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. When he came home later that night, he gave you a half-assed apology and explanation followed by a string of kisses that had you melting back into him.

Though even that started to dwindle, and eventually it stopped all together. When Quinn was home in Vancouver, he rarely made the effort to spend time with you, and when he did, it was almost like he wasn’t there. His face would always be buried in his phone, or he’d be playing video games with his friends and you’d simply be sitting next to him on the couch. Quinn had stopped trying to plan dates, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone on one with him. You could barely remember the last time the two of you had shared a kiss that was more than the obligatory chaste peck on the lips before bed. 

You tried to reassure yourself and ignore the aching in your chest, but the way he put as much distance as he possibly could between the two of you, the less you were able to do that. Eventually, you’d decided that enough was enough, and if it felt like you weren’t in a relationship, then you weren’t going to be in one. No matter how badly it hurt. 

The thought of breaking up with Quinn made you feel like someone was holding your head under water. The panic settling into your chest as you realized that you couldn’t breathe; your lungs burning the longer you went without any air. No matter how hard you tried to break the surface and gasp for air, your head was only shoved deeper and deeper into the water until you realized that the only escape was leaving him. Leaving the man you were still in love with was the only way for you to be able to breathe again. 

When he finally came home that night, he didn’t even notice you sitting at the table, his head shoved in his phone as he walked through the door. “Quinn,” Your quiet voice bounced off the walls of your home. His head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise that you were still awake at this hour, but you continued, “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” He drew out, brows knitting together in confusion as he slipped his phone into his pocket, “What’s this about?”

His eyes darted throughout the apartment, and you watched as his shoulders fell when he realized that stuff was missing from all over. Your stuff. With Quinn avoiding your home like it was, or rather you were, the plague, it gave you enough time to gather everything you’d brought over with you, and temporarily move it into a friend's apartment until you could find your own. Despite the multiple breaks you had to take because you kept breaking down, you managed to do it all in one day.

“I think you know what it’s about,” You chewed at your bottom lip, blinking rapidly to keep yourself from crying.

“Baby, I-,” He tried as he reached over the table to grab your hand, but you quickly cut him off. The chair scraped against the floor as you abruptly stood, shoving his outstretched hand away from you.

“Don’t call me that,” You spat, vision blurring from the tears, “You can’t call me that anymore.”

“What are you trying to say,” He asked, his voice breaking, and that made you angry.

How dare he act like he was hurt when all he’s been doing is hurting you? He put you in this position. He pushed you away, made you feel like he didn’t want you anymore. He did this, and he doesn’t get to act like he’s the one that’s hurting.

“I’m saying that we’re done, Quinn. I’m breaking up with you,” You asserted through the salty streams falling down your cheeks. Though the words tasted bitter as they came out, you felt a slight, very very slight, sense of relief wash over you as you said the words out loud.

Your words hung over his head as you fell into an uncomfortable silence, eyes staying trained on him as you waited for a response. He stood at the table with his palms pressed against the wood, head down as he let out a shaky breath followed by a weak question.

“What do you mean ‘Why’,” You scoffed, shooting daggers into the top of his head, “Quinn, you’ve barely said a full sentence to me in the last week. You don’t talk to me when you’re gone anymore. Hell, half the time I don’t even know you guys are back unless someone posts about it. I just- It just feels like you don’t want this anymore, and that’s okay, but what you’ve been doing isn’t.”

“No,” He breathed out, his voice small and broken as he shook his head, “No, it’s not and I’m sorry. I don’t- Fuck, Y/N, I don’t know what to say right now. I lo-“

“Please don’t,” You interrupted, tearing your gaze away from him as you choked on your own cries, “Please stop, Quinn. I can’t do it anymore. I love you so much, but it’s gotten to a point that the person I fell in love with is gone even though he’s right in front of me.”

A part of you did want him to beg you to stay, to beg you to give him another chance because he will change. He will change as long as it means he got to have you, and he couldn’t live without you. But the more logical part of you was holding the spear, and it was telling you that you were doing the best thing for you. That leaving Quinn, while it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, it was the right decision for you.

“I’ve already got all of my stuff moved out,” Your voice cut through the thick silence, “You’re not home much so it made it pretty easy.”

You couldn’t help but throw the jab in there, but it was only to cover the thinly veiled agony that was truly going on in your heart and bleeding into the rest of your body. You didn’t want Quinn to know that saying goodbye to him was like death by a thousand cuts, and so you masked the pain the only way you knew how. With anger.

“I wish you and your team the best in the rest of the season, I really do. But I think it would be better for both of us if we don’t talk after this.”

Not waiting for his response, you made a slight show to toss the key to what was now his apartment onto the table in front of him, the gentle ding of the metal hitting the wood echoing through the empty room, before walking out of the door. You’d barely made it into the elevator by the time your feelings washed over you an aggressive wave that came seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere all at once. You were thankful that the ride down to the bottom was quick and no one else joined you, and that the main lobby was only occupied by the security guard who’s more than likely seen his fair share of crying women.

That night, you went to your friend's apartment and broke down into a mess of screams, tears, and pain. She held you as you cried, held your hair as you threw up, held your hand through the shower curtain because you didn’t want to be alone. She stood by you in your most desperate time of need, and she made it her own personal goal to maim the hockey player should she ever see him again.

Quinn didn’t text or call you, but you knew that he wasn’t doing the greatest for the first few weeks after your breakup. Petey and Brock had both called to check on you once they had figured out what had their teammate in the state he was in. They asked how you were doing, and not-so-subtly mentioned that Quinn wasn’t any better off than you were. Though, they quickly learned to not mention him unless they wanted to listen to you call them obscene words before ending the call and ignoring them for a few days. You knew their intentions were good, but you didn’t want to hear about how “awful” Quinn was.

If he had acted like he cared about you half as much as his friends were telling you he did, maybe you would have made the effort to ask about him. If he loved you half as much as they said he did, but he didn’t. And he’s made that clear to you. Of course you know you told him that you thought it best if the two of you didn’t talk anymore, but you had secretly hoped he wouldn’t listen. That he would be calling you and texting you, begging you to come back. Telling you how in love he was with you, but it was complete and utter radio silence.

Eventually, you were able to pick yourself back up enough to find your own apartment. Leila had insisted that you staying with her was never going to be a problem, but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever. You needed to try and move on from him, even though you weren’t quite ready to let go of him yet. You needed to try and find yourself again, and you couldn’t do that sleeping in the guest bed of your best friend and her boyfriend's apartment.

Leila’s worried eyes were practically carved into your skull at this point, but you didn’t blame her. She’s had to pick you up, physically and emotionally, more times than she had anticipated when you initially turned up at her door with puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Though she should have realized how deeply hurt you were the fourth time she held you after you had woken up thinking that your breakup was a nightmare, only to realize that it was reality that haunted your dreams.

No matter how hard you tried to forget about Quinn Hughes, the city you lived in was as riddled with memories and reminders of what once was. He was on every street you walked, in every store window you passed by. He was everywhere, and it made you feel like there was a shard of glass piercing your heart, unrelenting and unmoving. You wanted nothing more than to forget about the man who had torn your heart in two, and you were willing to do anything to do that.

The bar air that clung to your body was sticky with alcohol and sweat, but you didn’t seem to mind as you moved your hips to the beat of whatever terrible remix they were playing. The unnamed man behind you had his hands planted firmly on your waist, but you didn’t pay him any mind as you let yourself dance. The alcohol swimming through your veins aiding your ability to forget about all of the hurt you had yet to heal from.

For the last three months, you often found yourself in some sort of bar or club to drink your pain away. It was cliche, but you hadn’t stumbled upon any other outlet that allowed you to forget about the constant ache in your chest. Leila had tried to guide you towards less self-destructive ways of healing, but you didn’t listen to her. This way was guaranteed to ease your heartbreak, at least for the night and that was all you needed.

“I’m Wren,” The man yelled into your ear, an off-putting smirk slapped on his less than desirable features.

Your mouth dropped open, the blood pounding in your ears covering the music entirely. It was too close. His name was too similar, and it made the one thing you were trying to forget flood itself into your head. Images of Quinn and memories of the way his voice sounded pushed their way to the forefront mind, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

Without another word, you pushed the man away from you and scrambled towards the exit of the bar. Your vision turned bleary and clouded, from the tears or the alcohol, you weren’t sure. Ignoring the worried calls from strangers you shoved past, you rushed out into the crisp Vancouver air.

You stumbled over into the mostly empty alleyway, clutching at your chest as your back came in contact with the brick wall. You were aware of the many lingering eyes on you, but the feeling that was consuming you made their attention appear miniscule and irrelevant. All you could think about was Quinn and how he never even fought to be with you. How he gave you up so easily.

Leila’s boyfriend had seen you run out of the bar, and immediately darted towards the bathroom so he could grab her. With the help of a few random women, he was able to get her attention much faster, and she was rushing out of the bar and leaving him to close their tab. Leila heard you before she saw you, and that alone made her chest burn for you.

“Honey,” She delicately approached you, her voice calm and collected, “What happened?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue, but nothing was coming out but strangled breaths and mangled cries. Despite having seen you in this position more times than she could count, it broke Leila’s heart all the same. She maneuvered your body so that she could pull you into her lap, ignoring the fact that she was sitting on the ground in a dirty alley. She began rubbing soothing circles on your back and instructed you to try and follow her breathing pattern.

Once you were able to catch your breath, you let out an almost incoherent, “Why didn’t he come back?”

Leila was able to calm you down enough to get you back to your apartment nearly an hour later. She kept insisting that you just come home with her, but you already felt guilty enough for intruding so much on her personal life. You knew she didn’t mind, but you did, so you managed to convince her that you would be okay by yourself, and that you would call her if you needed her. Though, she wasn’t the person you ended up calling.

“You have reached the voicemail box of Quinn Hughes. Please leave a message after the tone.”

“I hate you, Quinn,” You started, your voice already raspy from the moments prior, “I hate you so much for making me believe that you ever loved me back the way that I loved you. I thought we were forever, you know. That’s what you told me. That we would get married and have our own family, but we saw how that turned out. It was never going to be me, was it?

“I just wished you would have had the balls to tell me that you fell out of love with me, if you ever did in the first place, or found someone else or whatever the fuck happened. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier knowing that I, or you, did something to make you not stop loving me. It’s just- The worst fucking part about all of this is, is that I’m still so in love with you that it physically hurts me to be without you, but that doesn’t matter does it?

“Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I guess I'm just trying to give myself closure so that I can really move on from you. I don’t know that I’ll ever stop loving you, but I’m going to try.”

Hanging up the phone, you threw it onto your couch and let out a gut wrenching sob that ripped through the stillness of your apartment. You fell to your knees and let everything you had been bottling up for the last three months bleed out of you. The world spun around you, your lungs burning as you gasped for air. Your fingers grasped at anything they could possibly wrap themselves around in an attempt to keep yourself steady.

You felt as if you were back to square one, and you hated that all it took was some man having a name that too closely resembled his. It was stupid, you thought, blatantly pathetic how easily you were thrown back into the fire you had done your best to crawl out of. You had almost healed all of the cuts Quinn’s treatment of you had left in your heart, but now they were gaping open once again.

Minutes passed by, or maybe hours you weren’t sure, and you had fallen into a limp ball on the floor of your living room. You had no energy to move from the spot as silent tears escaped their previous confinement. You stared lifelessly at the ceiling above you, mind too tired to fight off the dangerous thoughts floating about inside your head. It was only when sleep finally graced you that you were able to escape the pain of what-ifs.

The following morning, you were rudely awoken by someone aggressively and relentlessly knocking on your door. The sound ricocheted across the nearly empty walls of your apartment, and worsened the already excruciating pounding in your head. Pushing your tired body off the floor, you let out a quiet groan as nausea rippled from your core.

You passed by a mirror that Leila insisted you hang, and you outwardly cringed at your appearance. Your face swollen from last night's breakdown, and your makeup was smudged all across your face. Needless to say, your unwarranted guest was not going to get a presentable version of you.

Not bothering to check the peephole, you pulled the door open and time froze all around you. Quinn stood there with his hands in his pockets, head covered by the hood of his blue Canucks hoodie. His face was decorated with overgrown facial hair and deep set bags had found places underneath his eyes. Truly, he looked awful, but the sight of him in front of you made the already growing ball of nausea burst.

Quinn watched as your eyes simultaneously widened and hardened with an undetectable emotion, but he’s sure he could guess what it was. When he had woken up that morning, the last thing he’d expected to see was a missed call from you, let alone a voicemail. He’d listened to it a dozen times before calling Petey, asking him what he should do.

After a lecture that closely resembled the one he had already gotten from his teammate months prior that was followed by words of encouragement, he set off to your apartment. He only knew your address because Brock had accidentally let it slip when they passed by it one night. Truthfully, Quinn was expecting you to not answer the door or to slam it shut in his face when you saw him. That he was prepared for, but what he did not prepare himself for was you darting to the bathroom.

He stood in the hallway, conflicting emotions battling with each other as the sound of you retching reached his ears. He wanted to follow after you and comfort you like he’d done many times before, but he also didn’t want to make you even more uncomfortable than you undoubtedly were already. He opted to step inside and wait for you in the living room, preparing himself for whatever you were going to throw at him.

You were heaving into the toilet, panic running through every nerve in your body as you tried to focus on breathing rather than throwing up. The last person you had expected to show up at your door was here now, and you left him standing in the hallway. A million thoughts ran through your mind as you flushed the toilet, pushing yourself up off the floor for the second time in the last fifteen minutes.

Why was Quinn here? How was he here? You never gave him your address. Though a brief reminder that Brock knew where you lived was enough to answer that question for you, but nothing you could come up with answered why. You remember leaving him a voicemail in your drunken meltdown, but you couldn’t wrap your head around just what had gotten him to seek you out.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for far too long, and you wondered if Quinn was still here. You’d heard the door shut, but you couldn’t figure out if the footsteps that followed were inside your apartment or in the hallway. After quickly brushing your teeth and convincing yourself that he had left, you stepped back into the living room and were proven wrong. He had settled into the spot on the couch that he chose every time if he could; closest to the kitchen. His leg was anxiously bouncing up and down, and he was biting at his fingernails. 

“What are you doing here,” You called out, nails digging into the palm of your hand as a way to keep yourself grounded.

The sound of your voice had Quinn’s head turning on a swivel before he was standing and taking a few steps towards you, but he stopped when you stepped backwards. He swallowed thickly, knowing that he was already treading through very dangerous waters by showing up at your apartment unannounced, and he didn’t want to do anything to further worsen that.

He instantly registered the tortured look in your eyes because it was the same one he’s been sporting since you left. Quinn knows he’s to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He should have fought harder. He should have fought, period, but he had his own reason for letting you go.

“You called me last night,” He started.

“I was drunk,” You firmly stated, heart beating loudly in your chest, “It didn’t mean anything.” You were lying, and he knew that, too. Quinn could always tell when you were lying.

“It meant something to me,” He rushed out, “Hearing your voice- Hearing you say that you thought I never loved you ripped me to pieces. I know I don’t deserve it, but can you please listen to my explanation? I know it won’t repair the damage I’ve done, but please. I was too scared before, but I’m not now.”

He rasped your name out like it was something sacred, like it held the entire world within its syllables. His eyes were glassy and filled with unshed tears as they bore into your own. He could tell that your heart and brain were at war with each other by the way you kept taking sharp breaths, and your eyes kept flitting away from him. 

“I don’t know, Quinn. I’m trying to move on, and hearing you out will only undo all of the work I’ve put into doing that,” You tried, turning away from him but still staying in the living room.

“I know, baby,” The nickname tumbled out before he could stop it, sending a jab to your chest, “I know, but please. I will leave you alone after, if that’s what you really want. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You weighed your options in your head before letting out a hesitant, “Okay. I’ll listen, but if I want you to leave after, you’ll go?”

Your heart had won this battle, but you’re relying on your brain to save it later if need be. The sound of his approaching footsteps made the breath catch in your throat, but the feeling of his hand sliding into your own sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body. Your head snapped to his own, your eyes full of anxiety and familiarity.

He gently pulled you over to the couch, dropping your hand so that you could sit as far away from as you wanted. The air was crawling with nerves from both parties, but the lack of anger radiating off of you brought him some sort of comfort as he gathered his thoughts. Though, in your defense, you could never be angry at Quinn, no matter how badly he hurt you.

“I know that no apology can fix the hurt I’ve caused you, but I am sorry. I am so sorry for pulling away from you instead of talking to you. I never fell out of love with you, ever. Not then, and not now. Do you want to know the best thing that’s ever happened to me? It isn't hockey. It isn’t money. It’s you, and that terrified me. I was so scared that I was going to screw everything up.”

You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he cast you a stern glare and shook his head before continuing, “I never let that bother me until I overheard you talking to Leila about marriage and children, and I got scared. I started questioning if I was good enough for you. If I was even good for you. I’m gone so much with the team, and I’ve already missed so many of your accomplishments because I was on the road.

“I started thinking about us having kids. How many appointments would I miss? What if I missed the birth? What if I missed the baby’s first steps? I couldn’t imagine putting you through all of that by yourself, so I started pulling away. Was it a good idea? Absolutely not, but it made sense to me. I thought I was going to save you from heartbreak in the future, but all I did was cause it now instead.

“I didn’t call after you left because I thought I did the right thing. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but then I heard your voice this morning and I knew I had to fix it, if you’d let me. I couldn’t let you think that I never loved you, because I do. I love you so much, and I will do anything to prove that to you, should you give me the chance.”

You sat there in silence, digesting the words that had just been said to you as you let out quiet sobs. For nearly the last year, you had believed that Quinn didn’t love you, and now he was saying the exact opposite. He was begging for another chance, and that was what you had wanted, right? It still was, but the damage that was done wasn’t going to be easily fixable. You would have to start back at the beginning, and you’re not sure if Quinn was willing to do that.

“Baby,” He whispered, your silence lighting his skin on fire with nerves, “I don’t know what’s going through your head, but I want you to know that I meant what I said. I will do whatever it takes to fix this mess I created. Anything.”

The gears were turning in your head, trying to conjure any sort of coherent thought to tell him that you wanted this, but you were scared. You’d put so much faith and trust into Quinn, and he tore all of that down out of fear. What if he did that again?

“I want to,” You whispered, “I do, but what if you do it again? I can’t go through it all over, Quinn. I felt like I was going to die without you, and I can’t go through losing you all over again if you get scared.”

You felt his weight lift off the sofa, and before you realized what was going on, he was wedging himself in between your legs in front of you. He cupped both of your cheeks in his hands so you were looking at him, and you swear you blacked out for a second. Just because Quinn had hurt you, doesn’t mean the effect he had on you went away.

“You won’t lose me ever again, okay? My heart belongs to you. My heart beats for you. I promise to love you for the rest of my life, even if you don’t love me for the rest of yours.”

His hands were still on your cheeks as you gulped down the lump in your throat, his pleading eyes darting all across your face. Lucky for you, your heart and your brain had linked together as you let out an almost silent, “Kiss me, please.”

And he did. Quinn’s lips were on yours in an instant, hands dropping down so he could pull you into his chest. The kiss was full of desperation and months of lost time as the two of you clung to each other. He was holding your hips so tightly that you’re fairly certain they were going to bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were pulling him into you just as desperately, afraid that he was somehow going to disappear from right in front of you.

He briefly pulled away so that he could sit on the couch, pulling you into his lap not long after. He quickly reattached his lips to yours, and he kissed you with so much fervor that it had your head spinning. You could feel some of your sadness melting away, being replaced by passion and desire for the man underneath you. Almost as if a switch had flipped within you. You shifted your hips on his lap, and a throaty moan escaped his swollen lips as he slightly threw his head back.

“Be careful with that,” He let out a breathy laugh, “You know what that does to me.”

There was a teasing glint in your eye as you spoke, “I know.”

“Fuck me,” He groaned, subtly moving your hips against him.

“If you insist,” You drew out, leaning down to ghost your lips over his neck.

He threw his head back against the couch and screwed his eyes shut as your warm breath fanned across his neck. Your eyes flicked up to his face, and you couldn’t help but let a mischievous smirk form before dragging your tongue across the expanse of his neck. He let out a string of profanities as you latched your mouth onto the spot you knew would send him spiraling, but you quickly pulled away and hopped off of him.

“I need to take a shower,” You announced, a teasing tone to your voice, “I’m still gross from the bar.”

Quinn’s eyes snapped open, watching as you began to walk away. Only when he heard you ask if you were going to join did he jump off the couch and scramble after you. He shed his clothes as he followed you to the bathroom, leaving a trail of fabric in his wake. By the time he had reached your bathroom, you’d already turned the shower on and rid yourself of your own clothes.

“I do not deserve you,” He mumbled as his eyes raked over your naked body. 

He’d already memorized every dip and curve of you, but he always treated it as if he was seeing all of you for the first time. Your body captivated him in all of the best ways, and it left Quinn breathless every time you graced him with it. He considered it a privilege to be able to bear witness to the Goddess of a woman in front of him, and he worshiped it like it was.

Despite all that has happened between the two of you, you still felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with Quinn. Unlike the guys who had seen you naked before, none of them treated it the way he did. He never made you feel insecure, and he always made every other part of you feel just as loved as your body. He admired your character, and even your flaws, all the same.

“You gonna stand there or are you going to join me,” You teased as you stepped into the shower. 

The water enveloped you like a welcomed hug, and you let out a sigh of relief as the stickiness from last night was washed away. You were facing towards the shower, eyes closed and head tilted back. You heard the curtain rings slide against the rod before you felt Quinn’s chest pressed against your back. You wiggled against his hardened length, and he took your teasing as a green light.

His fingers trailed up along your hip, across your waist before dancing over your breast. He made a point to slightly lift his touch so he just barely grazed your nipple, and you let out a whine when he did. His hand briefly paused when he reached your collarbone as if he was going to change his mind, but he carefully wrapped his fingers around your neck and leaned down to brush his lips against your ear.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” He whispered before dipping his head down and attaching his lips to your neck.

While one hand tilted your neck to give him better access, his free hand trailed down your stomach and towards your center. The knot in your stomach grew the closer he got, but he was taking his time with you. Relishing in the moment he never thought he would have again.

“Quinn,” You whimpered, “Please.”

“Please what, baby? I need you to use your words for me,” He briefly broke his contact with your neck.

“I need you to touch me, please,” You were begging him, needing him to give you the release that no other man has before.

“Good girl.”

He slid one finger into you, an almost pornagraphic moan echoing off the tiles of your bathroom. You threw your head back against his shoulder, gripping at the slick shower wall for any sort of support before your knees buckled from under you. He carefully moved his digit inside of you, stretching your walls so he could add another.

“Jesus, baby. You’re so tight,” He groaned into your ear.

“‘S because no one’s touched me- Oh fuck,” You cried out as he inserted another finger, “No one’s touched me since the last time you did.”

Quinn knew he shouldn’t be as turned on by that as he was, but he couldn’t help it. Knowing that you didn’t let another man have you the way that he did only made him harder, and he didn’t think that was possible.

You were writhing against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, your moans filling his ears like they were his favorite song. He moved his thumb to press against your clit, and it was then that Quinn had to use his own strength to keep you standing. He worked his fingers against you, and he’s gotten you to the finish line enough times to know that you were already just about there, so he didn’t stop.

“Oh my god,” You cried out as his thumb rubbed circles and his fingers curled inside of you, “I’m almost the-Fuck.”

“I know, pretty girl. I know,” He murmured, keeping his pace steady.

Your legs are shaking and your vision becomes spotty as the knot inside you comes undone. He captures your lips with his own as you come all over his fingers, kissing you with the same amount of passion he’d had before everything happened. He was still supporting you with the hand that was previously on your neck, but you slowly regained the strength to support yourself as you came down from your high.

“You okay,” He asked, turning you around so that the water was no longer hitting your front.

“More than okay,” You gave him a sloppy smile, still slightly dazed from your orgasm.

“Good, because that was only the beginning,” He smirked, switching places with you so he could back you into the corner of your shower.

You watched as he turned and shifted the shower head so that it was spraying against the two of you as much. You pulled your brows together in confusion as you questioned him, “What about you?”

“What about me,” He feigned confusion as he slowly fell to his knees.

“You know what,” You quietly spoke, eyes wide in anticipation as his hands gripped your thighs.

“I’m getting all I need, baby. Don’t worry,” He glanced up at you, eyes sparkling with pleasure.

His fingers trailed against your thighs that were wet with a mix of water and your own juices. Goosebumps rose in wake of his touch, sending a shiver throughout your entire body. You kept glancing down at him with your lip pulled between your teeth, your heart still rapidly beating from your orgasm only minutes ago.

Quinn spread your legs with his hands before placing feathered kisses on the inside of your thighs, eliciting a few breathless moans from you. He stopped when he got against your aching core, his breath hitting it as he spared you one more glance.

With a swift movement, he was lifting your leg over his shoulder and then he was diving into you like it was his last meal. His facial hair was tickling your inner thighs, but all it did was add to the sensation flowing through your body. His hands were gripping at your legs to not only keep you steady, but to give him something to hold on to.

He was devouring you in a way that made it seem like he was enjoying it more than you were, but you highly doubted that to be true. His tongue worked against as he led you to yet another orgasm, mouth sucking and swirling in all of the right places. You tugged on his hair as you felt the familiar fire burning in your stomach, your head hitting against the tile wall.

Your second orgasm ripped through your body, rendering you temporarily blind yet again. He carefully placed your leg back beneath you, placing open mouth kisses against your stomach as he stood leaving behind a mixture of his saliva and your cum against your skin. He attacked your lips with his own in a dizzying kiss, his hands cupping and squeezing at your breasts.

“I’ve missed you so much,” He mumbled against your lips as he placed his forehead on yours.

“I missed you too. So much, Quinn,” Your eyes became misty with tears, but you tried to push them back.

“I’m not trying to ruin the moment or anything, but thank you for giving me a second chance. I definitely don’t deserve one, but I will keep my promise and do whatever it takes to win you back.”

You pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips before saying, “Well, you can start by properly fucking me.”

The softness in Quinn’s eyes darkened to something full of desire and lust, but he still managed to keep the look of pure admiration and love. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you into his chest and meeting your lips with a hungry kiss. You could feel him pressed against your thigh, and it made the already wet pool between your legs worsen.

“Need you to hold on to me baby. Wanna look at you,” He instructed as he pulled away, gesturing for you to wrap your arms around his neck, “Good girl.”

Quinn rubbed himself between your folds, teasing your entrance and watching your face twist in desire and want. Slowly, he pushed himself inside of you and let out a mangled moan as your walls clenched around him. He paused and let you readjust to his size, doing his best to remain still and not roughly jerk his hips back.

“Move,” You whimpered, bucking your hips forward for any sort of friction, “Please move.”

With your pleading, Quinn was pulling himself nearly all the way out and slamming back in at a pace he knew you both liked. His thrusts were hard and deep, filling you in just the right way to leave you gasping for more. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on his hips to allow himself a better angle, and you swear you blacked out for a second. You were grateful for the strength he has from hockey or you’re certain you’d both be on the floor by now.

Your loud moans mixed with his own, surely filling the entirety of your apartment with the sound. A part of you hoped your neighbors couldn't hear, but a bigger part of you didn’t care. You finally had him back, and the both of you were making up for lost time. His hips snapped against your own as he brought his free hand back up to your neck, squeezing at the sides with the pressure he knew wouldn't hurt you.

You were clenching around him, sending him into a fit of blinding, white hot ecstasy. No matter times Quinn had imagined you when he fucked his own hand, it was absolutely nothing compared the real thing. Watching as your eyes screwed shut and his name fell from your lips in desperate whines was a sight he would never get tired of.

“Oh my god, Quinn,” You shakily cried out, your eyes rolling backwards and the top of your head hitting against the shower wall as he thrusted into you, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Such a pretty girl,” He praised as his hand dove between your bodies, his fingers coming to rub at the bundle of nerves, “You look so pretty wrapped around me, you know that? Fuck, you feel so good.”

You were gripping at his back as he split you open, your vision coming in and out as he rubbed at your overstimulated clit and repeatedly slammed into you. Your name was tumbling from his lips in grunts, only tightening the coil in your stomach as his forehead dropped to your shoulder. You could feel the heat swirling inside you as he rammed himself into you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Quinn, I’m going to- I’m gonna,” You stuttered as he worked himself deeper, harder.

“I know, baby. Let go,” He whispered your name like it was holy and just, “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”

His words sent you flying over the edge, your third orgasm of the night sending you into a fit of unmistakable pleasure. Waves of contractions washed over your body as Quinn fucked you through your orgasm, his own crashing over him not too far after. His thrusts became sloppy and slow as he came inside of you, his head burying itself into the crook of your neck as he let out stifled moans against the skin.

You’re not sure how long you clung to each other with him still inside you, sounds of your heavy breathing replacing the previous moans that were probably still echoing somewhere in your apartment. However, what felt like hours but was probably not even five minutes later, Quinn pulled himself out of you, guiding your still shaking leg back down and keeping your body upright.

“Time to get cleaned up, yeah,” He teased, his thumb and forefinger coming up to grab your chin.

“Good thing we’re already in the shower,” You bantered back, eyelids slowly drooping courteous of the man in front of you. 

You lazily pulled Quinn back into your hold, meeting his lips for yet another searing kiss. Yet this time, there was no desperation. There was no hunger. There was only love, and hope. Hope that, despite the damage that has been caused, the two of you will return to the best version of yourselves and let yourselves be happy without worry or fear.

again, please let me know if you see any mistakes. and let me know what you think! xoxox

[kittyslvs]

NOTHING NEW ; SATORU GOJO

pairing: satoru gojo x fem reader word count: 1k (1029) summary: she always gave him everything, and never received anything. mari´s note: i wrote this about two weeks ago, but i got stuck. maybe if i upload it, inspiration will come back to me and there will be a second part lmao

After Suguru's incident, Satoru was never the same, it was logical. He felt alone and with no one to listen to his lament; a lie.

Lie, because y/n was always there for him; as his friend, as his lover for a few nights, as a classmate; but Satoru always took every sign of affection from the girl, and threw it away; because what she gives to him, means nothing. Nothing new to the young girl, but it ached in every nerve in her body just the same.

Y/N knew about this, but she always hoped that Gojo's attitude would change, and apparently after that, it did, apparently.

The white-haired man always called her at the end of the night, and she, hopeful that he would finally see what she had to give him, she always went, again and again; but she always came back with the thought of "tomorrow will be the day". It wasn't.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months; the hope and affection for him was waning. It seemed that y/n was the white-haired man's plaything of personal satisfaction and relief; y/n felt like shit, she felt that her personal worth was reduced to whatever a man wanted to give her, crumbs.

She had tried to talk to him about the situation, but the brave Satoru Gojo always evaded her, getting angry or ignoring her for days, only to call her back and go back to his routine.

At this point, she felt like a living dead, nothing new.

the clock on her wrist read 1:50, she had no reason to be awake at that hour; if not for the "recent" argument with the boy. Her face was full of tears, her eyes swollen and her cheeks red; she blamed satoru, but more she blamed herself for allowing him to have that effect on her.

And the stupidest thing was that they had been there before, in that fight, in that moment. Honestly, y/n felt she no longer had dignity; she had lost it when she accepted his haughty attitude countless times.

Y/n grabbed her phone, wiped her tears and left her room on her way to the kitchen, her steps were slow and listless; she felt that if she stayed in her room a moment longer, she would die. For Satoru was so audacious to go to her house three nights ago, take her with fake "I love you's" and more to her room; but, he was drunk, she wouldn't do that with him being almost unconscious, that's when Satoru pushed her, throwing her to the bed and started to take out everything he had inside of him.

"Please 'toru, you're drunk" the girl spoke while holding his face, so that he would stare at her. "You can barely stand on your own."

Apparently the latter was the worst insult for Satoru, who stared at her with rage in his eyes, took a few steps back and pushed the girl, who fell on her bed, surprised by the man's reaction.

"Don't you dare say that, I can hold my own, I can do everything by myself" as he spoke he staggered softly and pointed at her with anger and repudiation. "I am not like you… Of course not, I'm not a person who can't stand on his own, who needs someone to give him false declarations of love to feel enough. I will never be you." As his words went on, so did the woman's tears run down her cheeks. Although Satoru's voice was slightly stuttering, he could not hide his hatred for the young woman.

Seconds passed in silence, Y/n staring painfully at Satoru, as he stood in front of her face; the man sketched a smile and grabbed her cheeks, being drunk and angry he did not mediate his strength.

"Look at you, youre weak, I am your weakness and I always will be. No matter how many times I use you and discard you at dawn; you will always return to my call, isn't that sweet?" He ended with a chuckle as he roughly wiped away the young girl's tears.

Y/n felt humiliated by her great love. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and with the little strength she had, she removed her dirty hands from his face, took her own hands to that area, backed as far as she could on her bed and began to whisper.

"Get out of here..." she could barely understand herself, but she knew that he was listening to her, who only approached her with slow steps and a smile on his face.

"I didn't hear you, can you repeat that?" he spoke with sarcasm in his voice, thanks to the liquor in his system.

The young woman gritted her teeth and smeared her nails on the palm of her hand, to look at him with the same hatred he was directing at her.

"I said go away!" she shouted as she threw a pillow at the man's face. "You're not strong, you're nobody to come and say all that to me and in my own house! Or don't you remember who was there for you after what happened with Suguru? Who was feeding you? Because you were so depressed you could hardly speak. Or that you don't remember" finally y/n was able to respond to his attack. "You and I are the same, Satoru" She finished by unburdening herself a little with him, who had a face of stupefaction and regret. They spent a few minutes in that position, both standing there staring at each other, with many things to say but not wanting to fight anymore.

Y/n broke the silence, with a whisper-like murmur, his voice trembling from the crying produced by the albino.

"I think you'd better leave, Gojo" he in response turned on his heels and walked out of her room, then out of her house. And that was when she was finally able to let out her pent-up emotions, crying for a long time.

She still couldn't believe Gojo's cynicism, and it pained her to know that everything he said was true, "drunks and children don't lie".

uploaded 28/11/2023 ; 3:41 pm like and repost if you like it !!!

[purrplegyuu]

Barely adults | So Junghwan

Warnings: Poor plot, First time (not penetration), masturbation, only clitoris stimulation actually, both of them are virgins, no actually loss of virginity but kind of, gramatical/spelling mistakes (maybe, english is not my first language), let me know if I'm missing something else.

Pairing: Best friend!Junghwan x Best friend!fem reader.

Word count: 1,6k

hiiiiiiiiiii!, it's been already a month since I started staning Treasure, but this is my first work about one of them. I wrote it at one am (i use to sleep at 8 pm) so that's why there might be a lot of mistakes. I would really appreciate for you to tell me if you find any mistake or if you'd like me to change something.

Remember my ask box is still open (even if i haven't answered any ask yet, so sorry to thos 4 people looool), so feel free to request some words. I write for Txt (obviously), Treasure, Zerobaseone, Seventeen and enhypen (maybe, I'm not sure yet).

That's everything, enjoy and have a nice day!

Us. Both barely adults who don’t really know what are we doing. Or what are we going to do.

“Have you thought about your career?” I ask. Is a trending topic in both of our houses since we both decided to take a gap year right after we graduated from high school. 

Yeah, we are planning on attending college, however, we were both too tired after three large years of taking high school a little too seriously. My parents were so mad when I told them about my decision, and even threatened me to throw me out of home. They eventually forgot about it, but before that happened, we were in a neverending fight for three months. 

His situation had been a little bit different.

He never told me about it, but I noticed. Starting from the day he told his parents about his decision, when he showed up to my bedroom window on the second floor (I still don’t really know how he made it) and asked to sleep on the couch of my room. Secondly, the one time I went to his house to hang out a bit and heard his parents telling him horrible things about how disappointed they were. And finally, tonight, when he asked me to meet at his older brother’s apartment, just for me to find him on the big bed with a pair of big, red eyes. 

I’ve got to say I understand our parents. He was first place in class and I was second. Must have been hard for them. And I have to confess it–I feel guilty, I am guilty. I was the one who proposed it and convinced him. Guess I just didn’t thought about the consequences.

However, it’s been nine months since those events now, and it’s already time for us to choose what college career are we going to study now.

“Junghwan?” I called him since he hadn’t answered. 

He’s looking right straight to his brother's desk next to the bed.

The silence grows more awkward and he just doesn’t seem to care I’ve came in his brother’s apartment minutes ago. 

“Junghwan!” I almost scream, finally catching his attention. He looks at me for a while before asking “Hm?”

“You finally decided what to study?” We’ve been both too lost about it. 

He shakes his head no before falling silent once again. 

After a few seconds, his hand lifts up from the edge of the bedroom, and offers it to me. I take it, and soon he pushes me onto his lap.

“Wa!” I yell, impressed by his sudden strength over me.

We’ve never been like this before. We’ve never been this close before. Yet, I’ve always dreamt about it.

“Ju-junghwan, you’re too clumsy” I jokingly said, trying to act like I didn’t get what is he doing. I move on his lap trying to stand up, however, he takes both of my hands and forces me to move closer to him. 

“”I’m not” he looks right into my eyes while breathing on my face. His breath feels addictive like drugs, it is hard for me to breathe, and my lower lip trembles from the massive desire of kissing him.

And it looks like he’s feeling just like me, because it takes him just a few seconds to melt his lips into mine in a way I’ve never seen before, not even in the best porno.

His lips move away from mine. Our foreheads touch, our noses meet, and we both remain silent for a few seconds while we catch our breath. And then, he kisses me again. His hand lets mine go, and I hold myself on his shoulders while one of his hands take the back of my neck and the other one takes my thigh from under the light green dress I decided to wear (for him, but that’s supposed to be a secret).

Everything is so fast, so rude and so forced it scares me. It doesn’t feel romantic but desperate; it doesn’t feel fluffy but feverish.

I take his hand when I feel it reaching my underwear, and cut the kiss while trying to breathe again. He looks at me confused. His red swollen lips wanting nothing but to kiss me again, his hand on my neck taking me strongly, his cheeks flushed from the heat of the moment and his dark pupils waiting for me to say something.

“Junghwan,”I try to speak but I’m just too embarrassed to speak–because I’m red as an apple, because I’ve just kissed him and because… “Junghwan, I haven’t… had sex yet”

He laughs lowly, taking me again into his hands to kiss me one more time. “Don’t worry,” He says between kisses. “me neither”

His lips move to my cheek, leaving some wet kisses before moving to my ear, then to my neck and finally my clavicles. My hands squeeze his shoulders strongly while lifting my dress slowly, making my skin crawl.

He stops kissing me to look right into my eyes to find my agreement, which he happens to find fastly before taking my dress off of my body. My hand runs down his abdomen, looking for the hem of his black hoodie to try to lift it up. He helps me do it, lifting his arms so I can take it off, and once I’m done, he switches our positions, throwing me to the bed. 

He goes back to kiss my lips while his hands caresses my skin slowly, playing with my sanity by taking the hem of my panties and drawing the outline of it. His lips move to my ear, leaving a kiss in there before whispering “You look so pretty… all messy and small under me” and “Isn’t it funny? You’re the one who always leads me, and now I’m on top of you” before laughing.

I’m the extrovert one, I’m the noisy one. Whenever someone approaches both of us, it is because they’re trying to know about me. I’ve heard people telling he’s always been only a shadow always walking behind me. Yeah, I’m socially a dom, but he’s been secretly a sexual dom all this time.

I turn around to look at his eyes, silently begging for him to not tease me any second more, and that’s when I feel his hand move in my panties, touching my skin everytime closer to my cunt. And I thought he wasn't going to give everything I asked for so easily, however, his finger started circling my clitoris right after he reached it. He kept on kissing my right clavicle while his other hand moved to my back, looking for the clasp of my bralette. He undoes it and takes it off completely. 

I feel my stomach tensing up for the first time, making me whine loudly and arch my back. “Have you touched yourself before?” He asks. I nod slowly.

“Ye-yes, but never came” And never felt that good.

My stomach tenses a second time, making me whine even louder and higher. I take his arm as if wanting to slow down. 

“Why?” He asks, making my cheeks even hotter. 

“I-I’ve never-“ A moan escapes from my throat. “I’ve never been able to.” Every time I touched myself, I would just stimulate my clitoris for minutes until the feeling is so overwhelming I can’t deal with it and stop touching it. I even thought I was asexual. However, I’ve always wanted to touch myself again every night after seeing Junghwan’s abs.

His fingers speed up, making me scream his name loudly while pleading for him to slow down, however, we both know that's not what I want. I squeeze his arm harder, my hips move by themselves, my back arches, my lower abdomen is so tense I feel I’m about to explode. And then, an overwhelming feeling floods me up, making me moan while my voice breaks out because of the way he kept touching my clit even after I came. Finally, he slowed down until he stayed still while his hand rested in my panties. 

My eyes still closed, my chest rising and falling as I try to catch my breath. And once I think I’m right, I open my eyes, just to find him looking at me closely with the sweetest smile ever. 

everything around me is spinning, my head hurts a little, I feel the sweat on my forehead and everything not called 'Junghwan' feels so unnecessary.

He hugs me, leaving a kiss on my forehead before turning on the lamp on the nightstand and turning the room’s lights off. He knows me so well, he knows I’m still afraid of the dark.

[pancakes4two]

baby please come home

happy holidays everyone! i wanted to write something short for @watchmegetobsessed​‘s fanficmas to close out the year. i’ve had the best time writing a bunch of concepts these last few months so... here is an ode to the first harry i wrote this year & the most recent 💗 enjoy!

preview: Harry disappears from public view until January, wanting to close out the year in private. He does, however, decide to share a photo of the three of you sitting under the tree on Christmas. You’re grinning at the camera, leaning close to Harry. Beau is sitting in your lap, fuzzy antlers sitting atop his head. His entire body is turned towards Harry, big brown eyes glittering as he stares as his dad and reaches for him with tiny hands. Harry’s smiling so wide his eyes may as well be closed, his face flush with nothing but pure joy.

He captions the photo: Christmas Morning. Harry’s House. December, 2022. It gets 10 million likes in 24 hours.

MASTERLIST | TALK TO ME

1. christmas with dadrry (from this blurb!)

Harry is playing his last show of 2022 when he decides to have a little fun. He’s been in Brazil for the past couple of days, closing out the Latin American leg of Love on Tour. Three stops ago in Argentina, he’d sent you and your son off on a plane home to London. With the two of you now being 5,000 miles away, he can’t help but ache for home a little more than usual, despite the fact that he’ll be joining you at home soon. A sign at the barricade reminds him of this fact, as he prepares to give a speech to lead into his encore.

“So…” Harry says, popping out his hip dramatically, “Before we move on to our last couple of songs, there’s a sign up at the front here that I want to address.”

The arena explodes in chatter as a spotlight comes down from above, searching for the flashy poster board. Harry squints and twists his microphone cord between his fingers, (he mentally notes that next year will be the year he finally starts using a wireless mic) and points when he manages to spot the sign he had noticed earlier.

“Right, this sign says,” Harry pauses as a cameraman beside him zooms in on the sign, projecting it onto the large screens behind the stage. “We came here for Y/N and no-one else.”

The crowd bursts into collective laughter and hoots, and Harry sees a few phone shoot up in the front row, eager to capture the obvious fan interaction that’s about to take place. He walks closer to the edge of the stage, and kneels down directly in front of the two fans that had brought the sign.

“Let me just start by saying how could you,” Harry brings a hand to his chest, squeezing his fist and trying his best to school his expression into one of dramatic anguish. One of the fans belly-laughs, while the other takes his reaction more to heart, waving her hands in the air and trying to rationalize the statement that had been written on their sign. “Only joking! But I am a bit hurt. It’s my name that’s attached to the tour, the posters, the merch, after all...”

“Sadly, I do have to inform you that Y/N has left with our son to go back home,” Harry squints out at the audience. The crowd groans loudly at that, and the sound of Mitch’s laughter comes through his in-ear monitors.

“Soooo, you’ll have to deal with it just being me up here!” Harry points a thumb at himself, turning around to give Mitch the finger with his other hand. “It is, however, close to Christmas, and I must admit I’m missing my family too. So we’ll see if we can do something about that.”

Harry gestures for the production lead then, and the fans that make up the first couple of rows in the stadium look to each other curiously, wondering why Harry’s suddenly gone off-script. While they whisper amongst themselves, the production lead runs up on stage and hands Harry his phone. He wiggles it in the air, brandishing it in front of the crowd. They cheer in anticipation for what he’s about to do next. The screen on Harry’s phone turns on in response to all his movement, and the stadium unexpectedly gets a glimpse of his wallpaper. It’s a picture of you and Beau, taken not more than a month ago, posing in front of Foro Sol in Mexico City. Beau’s wearing a Love on Tour shirt that’s comically large on his tiny body, sucking on a pacifier as you hold him to your chest, pointing at the massive screen displaying Harry’s name behind you. The entire crowd coos upon seeing the image, and even more phones shoot up to record the moment. Harry smirks knowingly, as if to say: adorable, isn’t it?

He holds his phone to his chest then, hiding it from view as he types in his passcode and swipes through his apps. He opens up your contact card and presses the FaceTime button, shushing the crowd when the call goes through. It’s late enough at night back home in London that he’s sure Beau’s asleep already, but you’re still awake and will be able to pick up his calls without disturbing the sleeping baby. The screen takes a moment to load before your face pops up, slightly pixellated and makeup-less, but beautiful nonetheless. Harry turns his phone back towards the crowd, and they can’t hold in their excitement when they see your face projected onto the stadium screens.

“Say hi everyone!” Harry waves at his phone, grinning at how the crowd has welcomed you. “Y/N, everyone’s been missing you, and now that I’ve got you here, it only seems fitting that I sing something special tonight...”

You give Harry a confused look through the phone, and he says nothing in response, just smiles and cues Pauli in. Pauli twirls a set of mallets between their fingers and begins to play a xylophone in front of them. They count themself in, and the starting notes to Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You sound through the stadium. 

Harry can’t hear you over the noise of the crowd, but he sees you shake your head at him and swears you yell out, “Shut the fuck up!!!” as he starts to sing.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need. I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree. I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know, make my wish come true... all I want for Christmas is you!”

Harry prances around the stage with you on his phone, directing the lyrics to your smiling face on the screen. The crowd dances along and Sarah points and laughs when Harry passes by, fondly admiring just how much of a hopeless romantic he is. As the song continues, Harry decides to leap across the catwalk, determined to make this performance as extra as humanly possible. The crowd reaches for him, but in this moment he only has eyes for you. He brings his phone out in front of him as he shimmies in front of the camera, reminding you that, “Baby, all I want for Christmas is you.”

When Harry launches into the bridge, he points up at the sky. A loud pop sounds through the venue as cannons that had been rigged onto the stage release tiny pieces of confetti that had been shaped into snowflakes. The paper rains down onto the crowd, blanketing the entire stage and floor into a sea of white. The pretend-snowflakes continue to cascade through the sky, glistening under all the stage lights, and Harry ends the song by running back towards the main stage and collapsing backwards onto it. He moves his limbs up and down through the confetti that now covers the surface as if to make a snow angel. He looks up at your smiling face, still watching him sing through his phone, and it’s almost as if you’re there with him. It’s only been a few days and yet he still misses you like crazy. Harry gets lost in the moment for a second, before the crowd drags him back down into reality. He sits up, brushing the confetti out of his hair, and smiles at the sea of people looking at him adoringly.

“Hope you didn’t mind that little switch-up, there,” Harry beams, “just felt like singing a Christmas song tonight.”

“Now, we’re gonna say bye to Y/N,” he continues, placing his microphone behind his back so he can speak to you privately. The crowd boos in response, and you laugh. 

“Let me talk to your fans!” you say, wagging a disapproving finger at Harry.

“You’re a demanding bunch!” Harry jokes, putting his microphone back under his phone speaker. Your voice comes through over the venue speakers, a little tinny, but understandable. 

“Goodnight everyone! Hope you had lots of fun tonight, and thank you so much for the surprise. Take care of H for me so he comes back home all in one piece,” you blow a kiss to your phone and Harry catches it, keeping it in his back pocket.

“That was for the fans, you idiot!” You laugh, and Harry throws his hands up at the crowd when they start to laugh at him.

“Okay, no more listening privileges for you lot if you’re just going to make fun of me,” he sighs jokingly, hiding his mic behind his back again. He brings the speaker up to his mouth so you can hear him properly.

“Be home soon,” he says, “love you so much. Sleep well and text me when you’re up.”

“Love you too, goodnight, H,” you smile, hanging up the call. Harry turns back around and sees his crowd looking disappointed at the fact that they weren’t able to hear the last bit of your conversation.

“Don’t look at me like that! Some conversations are better left private,” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Mitch throws a guitar pick at him, having heard the conversation and knowing that it had not gone at all like what Harry was implying. “Anyways, onto the encore...”

LONDON, A FEW DAYS LATER

Christmas morning arrives in a blur. Harry’s finally sufficiently rested after battling with jet lag, though he still finds himself waking up slightly earlier than usual. The sun is only starting to rise, and it had snowed the night before. He looks outside the window to see the landscape painted in a winter glow. The Christmas lights that you’d put up after coming home are wrapped around the trees and shrubs outside, providing some warmth to the otherwise blue atmosphere.

Harry makes his way into the living room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He finds you awake already in the kitchen, with Beau on your side, heating up a pot of tea. Beau is looking determined, sucking on a baby bottle with force as he clings onto his mother. You both notice Harry at the same time—you look up at him and your features soften, while Beau drops his bottle on the counter and reaches for Harry, babbling for his dad.

“Alright, alright; there’s more than enough me to go around,” Harry laughs, taking Beau from you. “Good morning. Happy Christmas.”

“Mm,” you hum while Harry kisses you. You pour two cups of tea, putting milk in sugar in one mug for you and just milk in the other for Harry. You hand his mug to him, and the two of you head over to the tree. It’s placed right in front of the largest window in the living room so it catches the most light. In the early morning, the entire space fills with a cozy light, the ornaments shining softly under twinkling lights. Both of you had decided on not giving each other gifts this year, preferring to absolutely spoil Beau rotten instead.

“Let’s open your presents now, Beau-bear,” Harry coos, bouncing the infant gently in his arms. It’s crazy, how much his life has changed in the last year. He looks at Beau, who’s looking curiously at the box in Harry’s hand, and you, quietly sipping on your morning tea. Harry’s chest swells with a whole host of emotions that he doesn’t necessarily know what to do with—but he does know that this is exactly where he belongs. He’s spent the better half of the year away from home and written an entire record exploring the idea of home. But he knows now that this is it. This is home: Christmas morning spent with the love of his life and his child. The presents that fill the entire space underneath the tree, a Christmas album playing over the sound system in the living room, Beau in a reindeer onesie, you wrapped up in a wool scarf, the snow that’ll decorate your lashes later when the three of you go out in the snow.

Harry disappears from public view until January, wanting to close out the year in private. He does, however, decide to share a photo of the three of you sitting under the tree on Christmas. You’re grinning at the camera, leaning close to Harry. Beau is sitting in your lap, fuzzy antlers sitting atop his head. His entire body is turned towards Harry, big brown eyes glittering as he stares as his dad and reaches for him with tiny hands. Harry’s smiling so wide his eyes may as well be closed, his face flush with nothing but pure joy.

He captions the photo: Christmas Morning. Harry’s House. December, 2022. It gets 10 million likes in 24 hours.

2. christmas with young harry (from this blurb!)

“Y/N!” You hear someone call out distantly from your bedroom window. “Y/N!”

The voice gets closer, and you realize it belongs to Harry. Abandoning the notebook you were currently writing in, you cap your pen and run down the stairs. Once you’ve turned the corner into your living room, though, you see that your parents have already let him in. Harry waves at you from the front door, pulling off his shoes and dusting snow off of the knit beanie resting atop his head. He hands a tin of what could only be Christmas cookies to your mom, and she pulls him into a hug.

“Happy Christmas,” Harry grins, “Mum said she liked the cookies best plain, but I think they’re better with warm milk.”

“We’ll have to try them both ways, then,” your dad responds, clapping Harry on the back. “Happy Christmas, H. Did you bike here?”

“Yeah,” Harry responds a little breathlessly. You notice that his cheeks are more pink than usual due to the cold, and the parts of his hair that weren’t covered by his hat were curling in all different directions, blown out of place by the wind. “Wanted to give Y/N her present before dinner.”

“How lovely!” Your mom coos in response, “We’ll leave you to it. Don’t forget to keep your door open, Y/N!”

Harry laughs while you roll your eyes exasperatedly at your mom. The two of you head upstairs, him trailing slightly behind you with a careful hand on your waist. You hadn’t realized earlier, but he’s wearing a backpack. It looks rather full, like the zippers are about to burst from the size of whatever he’s stuffed inside it.

“What are you planning on giving me, a bomb?!” You joke, poking at the bag’s exterior.

“Shut up!” Harry groans, “of course not! I couldn’t bring a bigger bag with me on the bike, so like, I had to make do.”

“Only joking,” you giggle, opening the door to your bedroom. Harry takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of your desk chair before flopping onto your bed. He’s wearing a navy-colored crewneck that’s too big for him, and the sleeves go past his hands. His skin is still flushed from the temperature outside, and you think he looks absolutely adorable like this, all cozy in your room. You sit across from him and tangle your legs together. The two of you have been together for almost four months now, thanks to your friends leaving you in a room alone and basically forcing you to confess your feelings to one another at the end of the summer, but you can’t help but still be a little awkward. Harry’s your first boyfriend, and you’re still trying to make sense of the magnitude of what you feel for him. It scares you a little, how much you’ve started to care for him and how you find yourself wanting to know more about him always, from the big things down to the tiny mundane details of his life. But it also brings you comfort, knowing that you can hold so much fondness for someone else, and have those same feelings be reciprocated.

The two of you have been looking forward to Christmas—you got together too late in the year for Harry to be able give you what he had called a proper, boyfriend birthday gift, and Harry has yet to celebrate his own in February. Both of you were excited to exchange gifts as a couple for the first time, somehow, they just meant so much more to you now that your relationship had evolved beyond just friendship. October had barely ended before you started thinking about his gift. You wanted it to be absolutely perfect.

“Were you doing homework before you came?” Harry asks incredulously. He must’ve caught a glimpse of your notebook when he set his backpack down. “How do you still have work left to do?”

“It’s for next term,” you reply sheepishly, “I got bored and wanted to plan out the classes I’m taking starting January... I figured I might as well get a head start while I’m home...”

“Ever the bookworm,” Harry looks at you fondly, reaching over to ruffle your hair. You loved that about him, the fact that he never made you feel badly about anything you did. Between the two of you, you were definitely the more academically-inclined one. While you sat diligently at the front of class taking notes, your boyfriend preferred to sit near the back, cracking jokes until your teacher got annoyed and focusing more on making the setlist for his band’s latest gig, instead of his assignments.

“Wonder if I can convince you to do my homework for a month as a gift,” Harry pulls you closer to him, cupping your face in his hands. He’s about to kiss you when you turn around suddenly, forcing his lips to meet only your cheek.

“No can do,” you smirk when he pouts at you, obviously disappointed that his act of affection didn’t go as originally planned. “We both know you’re meant for bigger things than school, H, but you just need to stick it through for a few more months and before you know it, you’ll be all done with GSCEs.”

“I suppose,” Harry huffs childishly, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning up at you. You kick at his arm with a socked foot, giggling at him. He reaches for your hand and unzips his backpack, pulling out a large, misshapen object that’s been tied together with ribbon. You’re not sure what the gift is meant to be—the Christmas tree-patterned wrapping paper is folded and bent in ways you didn’t know were physically possible, and there’s several pieces of tape stuck to the sides of it, patched on in an attempt to cover places where the gift wrap had ripped.

“I wanted to wrap it myself,” Harry explains, pulling at a non-existent thread on his sleeve, “but it obviously didn’t go too well.”

You laugh as he hands the gift to you, looking sufficiently deflated. “You get full marks for effort.”

“Before you open it,” Harry adds, watching you pull at one end of the ribbon. “I tried my best to get you something you really wanted, but I didn’t know if, like, someone else had already bought it for you, or anything... so there’s a receipt in there for you to exchange it for something else if you’d like.”

“Don’t be silly,” you reassure him, taking extra care to tear the paper carefully. The gift feels delicate in your hands, as if the item inside were made of something soft and pliable. You pause on opening the present for a moment to press a gentle kiss to your boyfriend’s knuckles: the last thing you’d want is to make him think you’d ever be disappointed in anything he gifted to you.

You finally manage to pull away at the gift wrap and tape, and your hands land on a cream-colored cardigan. You gasp and look at Harry, who’s looking between you and the object in your hands fondly, like he’d known exactly how you’d react all this time.

“There’s no way...” you say, turning the cardigan over in your hands, running your fingers along the careful stitches and admiring the tortoiseshell buttons. “But this is so... it costs so much... how?!”

Harry smiles at you, watching you unbutton the sweater carefully. “Well, I remember how much you liked it when you tried it on in the shop, so I worked some extra shifts at the bakery at the beginning of Christmas hols. I made Gem drive me down to the city yesterday and got it for you. It took a lot of convincing. She’s making me do her laundry for the next month.”

“It’s so perfect,” you say sincerely, enveloping Harry in a hug. You wish you could stay like this forever, safe in the embrace of a boy who makes you feel so massively, his arms locked behind your waist and his heartbeat steady against your chest. “I love it so much. You’re just the best.”

“Glad you love it,” Harry says softly, kissing your forehead and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He watches you intently as you reach under your bed and procure a holiday-themed bag. You hand it to him, tapping on his knee while he plays with the tissue paper inside.

“Your turn.”

“Did you gift me a bomb?” Harry jokes, weighing the bag in his hand and pretending to drop it because of how heavy it is.

“Like I’d kill you off after that incredible present you just got me,” you retort, kicking at him impatiently. “Enough stalling. Open it!”

Harry pulls away at the tissue paper and pulls out a large vinyl record, covered in plastic wrap. He shakes his head and looks at you with wide eyes. “Y/N. You didn’t.”

“I did,” you reply, grinning at him as he continues staring at you in amazement. Over the summer, Harry’s parents had accidentally donated his copy of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours to a charity shop along with a box of his old clothes. You knew how much that record meant to him, so you’d gone to a small record shop the last time you were in the city and picked up a replacement.

“Y/NNNNN,” he drags out your name dramatically, peppering your face with chaste kisses.

“Come on, look at the bottom of the bag, there’s more,” you say, playing with his hair. Somehow, the two of you had ended up shifting closer and closer to each other in your excitement, and now you’re basically sitting on top of Harry, eagerly waiting for him to finish opening his gift.

“No way, two gifts?” Harry clutches his chest dramatically, “you must really like me.”

He pulls out a book from the bag, checking to make sure there’s nothing else inside that he’d accidentally overlooked. The cover is made of linen and bound together with ribbon. Stuck to the front is a polaroid of the two of you on Harry’s bike, you sitting behind him as he poses for the camera, both of you brandishing massive scoops of mint chocolate ice cream.

“What is this?” Harry whispers, flipping through the pages. Each page is covered in memories of the two of you, filled with pictures and tiny souvenirs from places you’d gone together.

A picture your mom had taken of the two of you asleep on the living room couch, your head enveloped in Harry’s chest. There’s a blanket covering the two of you, and in the distance, a TV is playing the ending of The Notebook--you’d obviously fallen asleep before getting to the best part.

A ticket stub from the first concert you’d gone to together. You still remember how you felt that night, colorful lights streaming down from above as music filled your ears, Harry dancing and singing loudly from right next to you.

A picture you took on your computer when the two of you were meant to be studying together in the school library, Harry sticking his tongue out at you while you flip him off playfully.

A picture your friends took of the two of you holding hands on the bus. The two of you dancing in Harry’s garden. The two of you running through a corn maze at the local farm. Harry waving at you from outside your bedroom window. A photobooth strip of the two of you: a vignette of him looking at you, a vignette of him turning your chin towards him, a vignette of your lips meeting.

“I figured, next year, when you’re off to the X-Factor and you get all big and famous, you can keep this with you when you’re away and it’ll remind you that I’m always thinking of you,” you say shyly. “You know, so you don’t forget me while you’re away.”

“How could I ever forget you?” Harry asks, and his voice is so sincere that it cuts straight to your heart. “I’d never get big or famous enough to forget about you. But this book, Y/N, it’s amazing. It means so much to me that you made this for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Mhm,” you respond, smiling at him.

“Of course, you’re going to feel silly when they send me home right after auditions, and it’s back to me being your average boyfriend.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you say, and you mean every word of it. “Whole country’s gonna know your name soon.”

“Well, then I couldn’t be more grateful that you were the first one to know,” Harry says, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “Let me take a picture of us and tweet it to my two fans.”

You laugh then, and run your fingers through your hair to tame it. You pull yourself into Harry’s chest and he brings his phone out in front of the two of you. He kisses the top of your head, smiling through the action, and the digital camera clicks. You watch as he attaches the photo to a tweet and begins to type up a caption.

Christmas with my number one fan. Lucky she doesn’t know I’m her biggest fan, too. 

Harry presses send on the tweet and locks his phone. For now, no one sees it except for his sister, and the four other friends who actually follow his Twitter account. But twelve years later, when the whole world knows his name, a fan will find the tweet on his account, buried under thousands of other messages, and tag him in it. He’ll open it in the morning, with you asleep still beside him, and smile to himself as he remembers your first Christmas together. He’ll pull you a little closer as snow falls silently outside, brush your hair aside and listen to you breath steadily in his arms. He’ll lean in and whisper, Told you I could never forget you, and count himself lucky for all the holidays he’ll get to spend for the rest of his life with you right there beside him.

TAGLIST: @crazygirlinthisworld​ @grapejuice-rry​ @b-reads-things​ @s8tellite @michellekstyles​ @vrittivsanghavi​ @alienorknight​ @flwrmuse 

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Awaken

changbin x felix

Trigger warnings: none that i can think of but please feel free to correct me if i missed anything!

Content warnings: names (baby, good boy, angel, sweetheart, pretty boy, tiny baby), a little biting, mirrors, slight hair pulling, size kink (kinda?), oral, begging, cum sharing, praise, very brief mutual masturbation, very brief finger fucking, verbal teasing, hand holding, anal, a hint of a breeding kink, belly bulge, desperate lix, ass slapping, mild dacryphilia, one (1) dry orgasm (idk it was hot to me lmao)

Summary: changbin fell in love with his best friend, felix, and now felix wants to be his first guy.

Word count: 9332

A/N: so this is written from changbin’s pov and it is actually the first ship fic i wrote (at least the first ship fic i’ve written since high school). i actually wrote it before asking for pride fic requests last year and contemplated keeping it for myself or putting it on my ko-fi but felt it was too good not to share. and ofc i had to go with the classic friends to lovers trope because that’s just the kind of person i am lmao anyways i’m almost done with my next pride piece and i’m working on the three requests i received! i hope you all enjoy this and please feel free to give a follow! be sure to drop your feedback in the comments and please look forward to what i’ve got in store for you!! also i’m revamping my tag list so please submit an ask, send a message, or leave a comment if you’d like to be added to that! thank you all for your support <3

I don’t remember when it started or even how it started, if I’m honest. I just know that one day I woke up and the first thought on my mind was how pretty Felix would look with a morning blush. I’d had passing thoughts about his beauty so I paid it no mind, I was comfortable enough in my sexuality to recognize an attractive man when I saw one. Then the dream came rushing back and flooded my senses. I felt guilty as images of my best friend writhing around beneath me appeared in my mind.

I remember thinking “What the fuck was that? I’m not even gay. Why did I dream about fucking my best friend? And why am I hard?”

I remember being disgusted with myself as I rubbed one out in the shower, visions of Felix with his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw hanging open as he cried my name swimming in my vision. I remember icing him out for a few days, afraid he’d somehow know I’d had a wet dream starring him. I remember being terrified and ashamed of what I was feeling. That dream made me reconsider my sexuality.

Over the course of a year, I’d fought with my feelings for him and tried to ignore both my crush and my sudden shift in sexual preference. But he made it so much easier. I never told him who was making me feel these things but he made me feel safe. He helped me figure things out. He knew something was wrong when I started avoiding him at first and when I finally confided in him, he was nothing short of an angel. He stayed up with me several nights when I was having a hard time coming to terms with my sexuality and he assured me nothing was wrong with me. He told me that he’d had the same struggle a few years ago and he took his time to accept it but once he finally did, it felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

I followed his lead and allowed him to show me what it meant to truly embrace who I am. He even took me to my first gay bar. I don’t remember much about that night to be honest. I remember getting there and ordering a few shots; remember Felix suggesting a mixed drink. But that’s about it.

I woke up the next morning in his bed, wearing only my boxers. I was mortified but he took it all in stride and when I shuffled into his kitchen, he offered me a smile and a plate of pancakes before telling me he’d washed my clothes because I got sick right outside his apartment building. I was horrified and ashamed - less so when I found out we hadn’t fucked, but still embarrassed - but he was so kind and I found myself getting flustered every time he offered me a smile over breakfast. I was acutely aware of my nakedness in that moment but he paid it no mind. At least that’s what I told myself when his eyes lingered just a little too long on my ass while I took my plate to the sink.

That had become routine over the last year- the clubbing, not the puking and waking up naked at his place. I’d grown comfortable with myself again and had simply accepted that I had feelings for my best friend. That I have feelings for my best friend. As in, present tense. They never went away and I learned to be okay with it.

This leads to my current predicament. I’m a confident man. I’m aware that I’m good looking. Sometimes I turn myself on. Maybe that’s conceited but who’s it really hurting? Because of this, I sometimes take pictures or record myself jacking off. My camera roll is full of dick pics and videos of me begging for Felix to come ride me.

And now Felix is looking at me expectantly from his position beside me on my bed, both of us slumped against the headboard. “Oh come on! Lemme see how it turned out!” He nudges my shoulder with his as his smile betrays him. He is pretending to be exasperated but he can’t pull it off. We’ve just taken a photo together with some dumb filter and he wants to look at it. Except he’s been known to scroll a bit before and I’m afraid he’ll find the video I recorded only a few hours earlier. “Pretty please?” He resorts to pouting and begging and my heart flips at the way his bottom lip pokes out.

I can’t say no when he looks at me like that and he seems to know since he always does it to get his way. I usually don’t mind indulging him but I’m anxious as I hand him my phone. “Fine. But don’t scro-”

“OH MY GOD THAT'S YOUR DICK-” He shouts as he drops the phone in surprise and my face feels like I’ve just opened the oven without leaning back first; I’m on fire. I try to grab my phone from where it landed on his chest but he gives me an evil smirk and holds it out of reach. “Who’s it for? Did you finally get on one of those dating apps I suggested?”

“Absolutely not. I-”

“So why do you have dick pics?”

“Do you not?”

“Not my dick pics.”

My eyes widen a bit and I look away, embarrassed by my train of thought. How many guys had sent him nudes and how many did he save? I’m not sure I want to know. I shake my head and hold my hand out. “Give it back, dude.”

He ignores me and scrolls through the photos of me fisting my cock before he finally stumbles upon the video. I jump to grab my phone, panicking this time, but it’s too late. We both go silent as my voice calling his name fills the room and I can see his cheeks reddening. After a moment I snap out of my trance and snatch my phone back, clearing my throat awkwardly. “That wasn’t for you…”

Felix, of course, throws another curveball at me and I have to force myself not to physically shudder at his tone. “Clearly it was for me, you were moaning my name while you fucked your fist.” I’d never heard him say anything so…nasty before. He usually keeps things pretty PG.

“Lix, don’t-”

“Was it me?” He suddenly asks as he sits up. His tone isn’t accusatory or panicked so I take it as a good sign and let out a sigh as I nod. I know what he’s asking.

“Yeah. You were the one I had that dream about.” I rake a hand through my hair and look away. “Look, I don’t want things to be weird, Lix, can we please just pretend this never happened?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and I sigh once more. “I had my suspicions, you know.” His voice is gentle as his small hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “I wasn’t oblivious to it. I just wanted things to unfold on their own. I didn’t want to push you when you were still coming to terms with everything, but I knew.”

My face is on fire yet again and it only gets worse when he pushes me back against the headboard and straddles my waist. His usually-inviting gaze is dark now, hooded as he looks down at me from his position on my lap. His freckles seem to stand out more with the soft blush dusting his cheeks. When his lips part, I immediately give him all my attention - as if he didn’t already have it. I hang on to his every word. I always have.

“I’ve thought about it too, you know.” His voice is a low rumble and it makes my head spin. “I’ve thought about how you sound; about how you taste, how you feel. I’ve spent so much time thinking about it and wondering if I was the man you dreamt about.” My dick twitches to life in my athletic shorts, though I’m terrified to admit I’m getting hard over this.

He’s leaning in close now and my heart is hammering in my chest. “I’m tired of just thinking about it, Binnie…” He whispers, his hands sliding from my shoulders, down my chest and abs as he leans closer to whisper in my ear. My muscles jump under his touch. I’ve always been pretty sensitive but it seems I’m even more responsive when it comes to him. “I wanna act on it.” His teeth ever so gently clamp down on my earlobe and my hands fly to his hips.

“Lix-” my voice is strained, surprising even me. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he manages to work me up without even trying. My fingers dig into the material of his loose sweats as a wave of arousal crashes over me. Before I can speak, he grinds his ass down on my semi and I can’t suppress the low groan I let out.

“I know you wanna act on it too, Binnie.” He whispers by my ear before allowing his tongue to soothe the area he’d just bitten. “I know you’re watching me in that mirror right now too.” He adds as his plump lips trail along my jaw and I have half a mind to deny it but that desire flees with his next question. “Do I look pretty on top like this?” His teeth rake over my skin and my grip on his hips tightens yet again as I watch him in the mirror that hangs over my bed.

“Fucking stunning, Lixie.” I rasp out, squeezing his hips as he sets a slow, steady pace. The sound he lets out at both the name and my touch makes my heart pound. I don’t watch him much longer, opting instead to turn my face towards his neck and press a series of kisses there, nipping at his skin after the final one. He fucking whimpers and my dick throbs against his ass.

But then he pulls away and sits up. I watch him in confusion, almost pouting when he pushes my hands away. “I can’t take it.” He whispers as he whips his shirt off. “I need you. Right now.” He looks back down at me, his warm blonde hair hanging in front of his eyes. He pushes it out of his face before reaching for the hem of my shirt.

I let him start to undress me, growing amused at just how frantic he’s becoming. “Relax, baby. We have all the time in the world.” I tease, flashing a smirk at him as I reach for him again. I pull him into me and he squeaks in surprise as our bare chests meet, his hands flying to my biceps. I can’t help but flex a bit. He whispers a soft ‘hi’, which I return as my fingers begin to trace circles on his back. He looks so pretty when he shudders at my touch.

I grow serious after a moment. I’ve never been with a man before. I’ve had plenty of sex but it’s been about a year since the last time and that time was with a woman because I was actively trying to deny my feelings for him. It’s not that I’m afraid or uncomfortable, I just need him to take it slow so I can learn his body; learn how he likes to be touched and how this actually works.

He can sense this. His eyes widen a bit, which is fucking adorable given his flushed cheeks, and he lets his hands slide up my arms to rest on my shoulders. “Am…am I your first?” I give a slight nod and his expression grows fond, a soft smile settling on his thick lips. “I’ll try to be patient.” He teases and both of us give a soft chuckle before my arms tighten around his waist.

“Can…” I start and bite my lip pensively. Should I ask for his permission? I mean, surely he won’t mind it since he initiated everything. Still, I ask. “Can I kiss you, Felix?”

His nod is almost imperceptible but I see it. He doesn’t make a move to lean in and I move one arm from his waist. Everything is still as we stare at each other, my free hand coming up to his face. I brush my knuckles along his jaw and he shivers, his breath hitching as I lean up towards him and let my hand cup his jaw. “I’ve spent so much time thinking about this.” I mimic his previous statement when we’re only a centimeter apart and his lips curl up into a soft smile before I bring my own lips to meet his.

It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything feels right when I’m kissing him. He tastes like the blue raspberry lollipop he was sucking on earlier - distractingly, might I add - but I’m certain he’d be just as sweet without the lingering taste of candy. I swipe my tongue over his bottom lip and he lets out yet another whimper, making my dick twitch again.

He slowly pulls back for air and I peek out at him, noticing a tiny smile on his lips again. “You taste like candy.” I whisper and he lets out a soft giggle, making my heart melt.

“So do you.” He whispers back. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” He adds before crashing his lips back to mine. His hands are on my neck now, his thumbs resting just in front of my ears as he splays his fingers out on my feverish skin. This kiss is more urgent, more passionate. I let my hand move to the back of his head and suck in a deep breath as he nips at my lip. His hips begin to move again and the hand I’ve tangled in his sunny tresses becomes a fist.

His elbows are tucked in and it almost feels like he’s trying to make himself smaller. Does he like to feel small? I almost melt over how endearing he is but I manage to hold myself together. I can make him feel small and cared for.

I can’t help but give his hair a soft tug as I sweep my tongue into his mouth. He lets out the prettiest whine and reaches one hand between us, palming at the front of my shorts as he stills his hips. He’s growing frantic again and I can tell he’s desperate to be touched right now.

He doesn’t let me explore his mouth for too long, instead urging my head back so he can trail kisses along my throat. His lips work down my neck and just as I release his waist so I can slip a hand into his sweats, he begins his descent down my body. Molten lava fills my veins and I freeze in place when his lips trail down my chest while his hands make quick work of my shorts. He doesn’t tug my boxers down just yet, opting to tease me through the thin material. After lifting my hips for him, I look down at him.

I watch as he settles on his belly between my legs and admires the strain in my boxers. He props himself up on one elbow while he runs his free hand along my thigh. He turns and presses a kiss to my other thigh, dangerously close to my dick. “Lixie-” I hiss and he simply hums, allowing his lips to press more tender kisses to my skin and then the material of my boxers. He looks drunk now.

His hand rests on my hip as he begins to mouth at my barely-concealed hard-on and I let out a low groan. He leaves a series of sloppy kisses on the front of my boxers before closing his lips around my clothed tip. I suck in a ragged breath at the sensation and let my head fall back against the headboard with a dull thud. “Felix, please-” I sigh.

I don’t know why I anticipated him to refuse and continue teasing me, but that’s not what happens. He instantly gets up on his knees and urges me to lift my hips, which I do with no hesitation. My cock springs free from its confinement and I hiss slightly. I lift my head with all the strength I can muster and watch him settle back in before wrapping a small hand around my dick.

Something in me is screaming that I need to watch, to take in every second of his attention on me, but it’s becoming hard to hold my head up. The anticipation is driving me up the wall. My breathing is ragged as he gives a few strokes before making eye contact and wrapping his lips around my angry red head. I let out a soft sigh as his tongue swirls around the tip and my eyes slip closed. It’s only just started but this is already the best head of my life.

Then he takes me as far as he can and I feel like I’m floating. The sound that escapes me is choked and draws an amused hum from him. I allow my head to fall back against the headboard once more, the thud much louder this time, but force my eyes open, watching in the mirror as he throats my dick. I take in the way his head bobs over my hips and how his back is arched ever so slightly with the way he’s propped up. I admire the way he has one leg hiked up while the other is stretched out straight.

Between the slurping sounds and the way he’s rutting against the bed, I feel like I’m going to combust. He pulls off to breathe but continues to jerk me and I feel a bubble of disappointment settle in my belly. I know why he stopped but fuck it felt so good. He presses a series of kisses to my hips and thighs as he catches his breath and I almost have the strength to look back down at him but then he swallows me whole again and I almost pass out.

He’s working faster now, with more vigor, and I can’t dream of containing the noises he seems so set on drawing out of me. “Fuck, Lixie, slow down-” I groan, tangling a fist in his hair. He lets out a whimper at the tug and I notice how he bucks his hips harder at the contact as I’m watching his reflection. “I won’t last-”

He pulls off and stops moving, staring up at me. “Look at me.” His voice is oddly demanding and I can’t bring myself to deny him. I lift my head and make eye contact. “Sit up. I want you to watch me make you cum.” I have half a mind to flip things and pin him down, to teach him a lesson for getting so bossy with me, but I let it slide because I’m admittedly desperate to feel his mouth back on my aching cock. I resituate myself without a word and he gives a satisfied sound. “Good boy.”

“Thin ice, Lixie.” I warn and he lets out a soft giggle.

“Worth a shot.” He hums before growing serious again. “I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve gotten off to the thought of sucking you off.” He sighs almost dreamily before taking the tip back in his mouth. He looks up at me as he hollows his cheeks and swirls his tongue yet again, his hand working the rest of my cock. It’s clear he’s set on making me cum before I get the chance to fuck him, before I have the chance to get him equally as worked up.

He’s about to have his way. The knot in the pit of my belly is dangerously close to unraveling and I can’t stifle the noises he’s drawing out of me.

That knot comes undone the second I feel his free hand move to fondle my balls. “Fuck-” I almost drop my head back but the desire to have this image burned in my mind is stronger. Wave after wave of arousal floods my body as I shoot my load into his mouth, his fingertips just barely teasing my balls. I watch as he swallows my cum, my body on fire as he continues to work my dick until I’m about to beg him to stop.

He pulls off right before I open my mouth to stop him and licks his lips. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls himself to his knees and moves up the bed to kiss me. My arms are around his waist and his hands rest on my neck like before. I taste myself on his lips and when I sweep my tongue into his mouth. I’m straining up to kiss him as he’s towering over me and part of me wishes he’d sit down instead of standing on his knees. I don’t voice this, opting instead to focus on how good it feels to be with him like this.

My hands trail along his back, my fingertips ghosting over his skin, and he shivers. How cute. I let my fingers dip past his waistband and he sucks in a shaky breath, not once pulling away from the kiss as I give his bare ass a squeeze. I push his sweats and boxers down in one go and he finally breaks the kiss, looking down between us as his cock springs free. He presses his forehead to mine as I reach between us and he gasps when my callused hand wraps around his dick, his jaw hanging slack.

I realize this is the first time in my life I’m touching a dick that isn’t mine and I feel like a curious teenager all over again. I give an experimental tug, touching him the way I like to be touched, and he whines softly. The sound goes straight to my cock and I decide I have to keep hearing it. It’s just too pretty. He’s just too pretty. “What do you want? Tell me what you like, baby.” I whisper and his breath hitches. I can’t tell if it’s because of the name or the way my hand is working his hard-on, but I’m beyond caring.

“Just- just want you, Bin…” he whispers back and I shake my head.

“You know what I mean, Lix.” I gently nudge him back so I can meet his gaze and his face is bright red. How fucking cute. “I can’t just go for it without you telling me what you like and what feels good. I’ve never slept with a guy before. All the experience I have means nothing in this context.” My voice is gentle, not scolding. He already looks flustered enough.

He nods and swallows thickly as he tries to form a coherent sentence. I know the way my hand is slowly jerking him is making his mind run blank. “I-I’ll show you how. Just…please don’t stop-” His words are cut short by a surprisingly high-pitched moan when I dig my thumb into the slit. “Fuck- definitely don’t stop.”

I can’t help but chuckle softly at his response, feeling empowered by his reaction. “You like it when I do that?” I tease and he nods vigorously. “Words, baby. Tell me, do you like it when I do that?” I may sound like an ass right now but I don’t really care. I’m feeling high from this and every sound he makes pushes me closer to losing myself. I want to hear him say it.

“Y-yes!” He moans out, ducking his face into my neck. “Yes, I love it when you touch me like that. Want you to do it again. Please?” He’s quiet, his voice muffled by my shoulder, but I hear him clearly. I can’t deny him anything. I’ve never been able to deny him anything, even before I was nursing a crush on him. I dig my thumb in again and he lets out a choked sound, bucking into my hand.

He whimpers in distress when I release his cock, his head snapping up from my shoulder with wide, bleary eyes. He looks entirely dazed and disappointed at the loss of contact. Confused even. I sooth him with a quick peck before pulling him against my chest and flipping us so he’s on his back.

He looks pretty staring up at me like this. He always looks pretty, of course, but I’ve wanted to see him under me for so long now. I stare back at him for a moment before ducking down to kiss him. He moves to wrap his arms around my neck but I gently pin his wrists to the bed and he lets out a soft groan.

My lips move to his jaw and I press a few soft kisses there before beginning my descent. I nip at his neck and press chaste kisses to his collarbones; allow my tongue to flick over his nipples, earning a tiny squeak. “Let me hear.” I pause, looking up at him. I can tell he’s holding back and I want to hear every sound he makes. He nods slowly and I peck the center of his chest. “Good boy.” He keens at the name and I grin to myself. “You like being called a good boy, don’t you Lixie?”

“Fucking love it…” He whispers, his head falling back against the headboard. He’s more slumped than I’d been so I can just barely see his face as I move down his body. “Wanted to hear you call me a good boy for so long.” He sighs, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation of my lips on his skin.

“Yeah?” He nods and hums out a soft ‘uh huh’. “I bet you were thinking about it while imagining blowing me, weren’t you?” He gives the same response and I let out a quiet laugh as my lips ghost over his abs. He’s got well-defined muscles, which is a pleasant surprise for anyone who is blessed to see him shirtless.

His dick twitches as I kiss his hips and he whines softly when I don’t immediately touch him. I’m somewhat nervous now as I settle on my stomach between his legs. Again, I’ve had plenty of sex, but never with a man. I’m curious. But I’m also so unsure of myself. I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and hesitantly lick the tip, propping on one arm the way he had only minutes prior.

He gasps softly at the sensation and I do it again, looking up to gauge his reaction. His eyes are screwed shut, his brow furrowed as he focuses on my touch. His lips are parted, allowing puffs of air and soft sounds of pleasure to escape. Slowly, carefully, I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and he lets out a whine so stunning I think I might just pass away.

“Please- more-” He gasps out and I tentatively flick my tongue. “J-just like that…” he whispers, assuring me I’m doing this right. I repeat my actions over and over, my hand working the rest of him, until he’s a worked up, whining mess. I pull off briefly and his head snaps up, his eyes flying open. Before he can ask why I stopped, I lock eyes with him and allow a thick string of drool to drip down from my mouth and onto the tip of his cock before spreading it around with my hand. He whimpers helplessly at the sight and I feel his dick throb in my hand.

Without breaking eye contact, I take him back in my mouth with more confidence than before and set out to finish him off. I want to taste more of him. I ease myself down his cock, taking him as far as I can manage before gagging a bit. He’s nodding at me now, assuring me I’m doing a good job, and my mind runs blank. All I can think about is making him feel good. I finally have him right where I want him - under me - and I’m determined to make this worth it for him.

I repeat my actions over and over until he’s desperately tugging at my hair and bucking his hips. Every time he shoves his cock down my throat, I gag around him and he lets out another pretty moan. He’s losing himself now and I feel powerful yet again. Then he starts begging.

“Please- oh my fucking god- ‘m gonna cum-” He moans out, letting his head fall back against the headboard.

Immediately, I pull off his drooling dick and repeat his previous statement, though my tone is much more demanding. “Look at me. I want you to watch me make you cum.” He lets out one of the most distressed sounds I’ve ever heard from him and quickly complies, propping himself up on one elbow so one hand is still free to tug at my hair. “Good boy.” I coo and take him back in my mouth.

His jaw hangs slack as his grip on my hair grows tighter and tighter to the point it’s painful. I love it. I find myself rutting against the bed just like he had earlier as I dig my tongue into the slit. The sound he lets out isn’t simply a moan, it’s a cry. He’s desperate for release now and he’s so, so sensitive. “A-again! Please- do it again-” He begs and I can’t dream of denying him.

The moment I repeat my actions, I feel his cum against my tongue. I take it all but I don’t swallow. I want him to get a taste of himself. I move up the bed as he comes down from his high and immediately press my lips to his, much like he’d done earlier. I gently grip his chin, urging him to open his mouth. He complies eagerly and I use my tongue to push his cum into his mouth, sharing it with him. We exchange it back and forth for a few seconds before I pull away and swallow what’s left.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was, but it was hot.” He giggles breathlessly and I chuckle softly. If I’m being honest, I don’t know what came over me just then, but it was one of the hottest things I’d ever done. I realize we’re staring at each other but I don’t dare move.

Things are still again, like when I asked to kiss him, except now he’s smiling up at me. We’re comfortable now, less on edge, but I’m far from done with him. I bring my hand to his face and run my thumb over his cheekbone as he leans into my touch, his eyes slipping shut. “You’re so pretty.” I whisper and his cheeks go a soft rose color.

“You’re prettier.” He whispers back, looking up at me. I chuckle and shake my head before he gently pushes me back. I sit up, slightly confused, and he rolls onto his side. I want to pin him back in place but I also have no clue what he’s doing. “You should really learn to put these things away.” He teases as he reaches for something on the other side of my bed.

It’s then that I realize I left my lube laying at the top of the pillow, tucked just far enough out of sight for me to forget its existence. It had slipped between the pillow and headboard, just barely peeking out. I let out a soft huff of laughter and move to take it but he playfully swats my hand away. “Sit.” He gestures to the headboard and I comply, moving to sit with my back against the cool wood.

I watch as he grabs a couple of pillows to recline on and pops the cap on the tube. “I’ve always wanted to put on a show for you…” he murmurs, his legs falling open as he squeezes some of the candy-scented lube onto his fingers to warm it up.

“How fitting. I’ve always wanted to watch you put on a show.” I smirk and he lets out a soft huff of laughter before whimpering quietly as his middle finger circles his entrance. His face scrunches up cutely as he slowly works himself up, soft sighs slipping past his pillowy lips.

After a few minutes of teasing, he carefully presses his middle finger into himself and makes yet another beautiful sound. God I wish I were the one touching him like that. Maybe he’ll let me…

“Fuck, baby, you look so pretty like this…” I groan, watching as he finger fucks himself open for me. I wrap a hand around my dick and watch as he tries not to get too far ahead of himself.

“Yeah? How pretty?” He whimpers, adding a second finger as he looks at me. I see his cock twitch upon the realization that I’m enjoying what he’s doing and my gaze lifts to his face.

“So fucking pretty, baby. The prettiest.” His jaw drops and he lets his head tip back. It’s interesting to see just how much my words affect him.

Then he lets out a whine of frustration. “Can’t reach-” he huffs and I’m all too eager to offer assistance.

“Want me to take over, angel?” Stars fill his eyes at the name as he nods enthusiastically, immediately pulling his hand back to give me access.

“Please…”

I waste no time in grabbing the lube and squeezing some onto my fingers as I bring myself to my knees between his legs. I notice him tense and I pause, worried he might be uncomfortable. “Is everything okay, Lix?” I ask softly, still coating my fingers and warming the lube as I speak.

“Hmm?” It’s then that I see his eyes have become glossy and half-lidded. “Oh- yeah, everything is great.” He smiles up at me but I don’t move so he elaborates. “I was getting ahead of myself.”

“Aww, lost in thought about how it’ll feel when I fuck you?” He nods vigorously and I smirk as I lean down, propping myself up on one hand which is planted by his head. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, you won’t have to wait to find out much longer.” His face goes bright red again as I slip my hand between his legs.

In reality, I’m just as worked up as he is and I’m nervous. I’m talking a big game for someone who has never fucked a guy before. But I’m encouraged by his reaction as I press a slick finger inside him.

His jaw is still hanging slack and he lets out a soft whine. I’m honestly a little surprised by his reaction. He’s already stretched himself a good bit so it’s not a shocking sensation or anything. Is he really that affected by my touch? “C-curl-” He urges and I do, earning a high-pitched moan as my finger comes into contact with his prostate.

With a renewed sense of courage, I begin to finger fuck him, repeatedly dragging my finger over his prostate. After only a minute, he begs me for another so I give it to him, watching his face contort in pleasure as I hover over him. I lower myself down and begin to press kisses to his neck, earning sighs of pleasure.

But then he grabs my wrist, pushing my hand away, and I freeze. “Can’t- fuck, I can’t take it-” He grabs the lube as he speaks and puts more than a generous amount on his palm before wrapping his hand around my hard-on. “Please just fuck me already-” He begs as he coats my dick and it twitches in his hand. He looks up at me with a sly grin. “You like when I beg, Binnie?”

My cock throbs again and I instantly pull my fingers out of him and place my hand over his, bucking my hips when he digs his thumb into the slit. “I fucking love it, angel. Love that name too.” I see the stars in his eyes again and gently push his hand away. He takes hold of his own dick with his messy hand, biting his lip when I line up.

I slowly push in, watching as his lips part and he lets out a soft gasp. I’m short circuiting now. He’s tighter than any woman I ever fucked and now my jaw is hanging slack like his has been since he saw my dick pic. “Oh my fucking god, Lixie…” I choke out before I’m even halfway in.

My face screws up in pleasure and I hiss softly as my hips meet his. I don’t know if he wants me to move yet or not but I have to stay still for a moment or I will finish too early, I can feel it. “Binnie…” I manage to force my eyes open and his expression almost makes me lose myself. He’s staring up at me with half-lidded eyes, his pillowy lips parted and allowing little puffs of air to escape. “Kiss me…” He whispers, following it up with a soft ‘please?’ as he gives his cock a tug.

I don’t need to be asked twice. I plant my free hand on the other side of his head as I dip down to kiss him, making a mental note to change the sheets before letting him settle in for the night. Our lips meet and he tangles his free hand in my hair, giving a soft tug.

I groan against his lips and he continues to pull until it hurts. I wince at the pain and stop my hips from moving as he riles me up. He doesn’t seem to like this and gives another tug. He continues to give sporadic tugs as my tongue sweeps into his mouth until I finally buck my hips. He lets out a broken moan against my lips and I pull back so I can hear him fully.

“Gonna sing for me, pretty boy?” I tease as I snap my hips forwards, earning a loud, whiny ‘uh huh’ as he nods. “Tell me how you want it, baby.” I whisper, giving shallow thrusts as I listen for his response.

“I don’t care.” He groans, working his hand a bit faster. “I don’t care how you fuck me, Bin, just please make me cum.” He begs in a pathetic tone and a thrill runs through my body.

“Any way I want?” He nods and I sit up between his legs. I gently push his hand away from his dick and press his knees towards his chest, my hands supporting him so he can just relax and feel everything I’m doing to him. “Lix?” He looks up and I catch his eye. “Tell me if anything is off, yeah?” I’m so worried I’m going to mess this up somehow. Maybe it’s because it’s Felix, my best friend and the man I’ve had feelings for for over a year, and not just some random guy.

“Of course.” I breathe a sigh of relief and he bites his lip in a failed attempt to conceal a tiny smile. “But don’t expect to hear anything but moans.” I’m slightly taken aback but entirely flattered that he has so much faith in me.

He’s about to encourage me to carry on when I suddenly snap my hips forwards. His jaw drops and his head falls back to the pillows, a quiet moan slipping past his plump lips. “You mean like that?” I tease as I set a steady pace, suppressing my own sounds save for the soft cursing under my breath.

He nods frantically and I just barely notice him wipe his hands clean before holding his legs just above where I’m holding. “Please touch my cock, Binnie. I need it. I need you to touch me. Pretty please?” He begs as I begin to speed up, feeling more confident with every gasp and moan I draw from him.

I release his thighs and wrap my right hand around his dick, stifling a low groan as he lets out a breathy moan that vaguely sounds like my name. My gaze is volleying between where we’re connected, my hand tugging at his pretty cock, and his face, which is screwed up in pleasure. My hips falter slightly when I realize he looks just as pretty as he did in the dream that started this whole mess.

I quickly regain my rhythm and tap his hand, signaling him to release his legs. Once he does, I urge them around my waist. My left hand rests on his thigh, close to his hip, and I massage circles on his feverish skin with my thumb. “F-faster-” He chokes, one hand fisting in the sheets while the other blindly searches for my left hand.

He stops my absentminded motion and takes my hand, lacing our fingers. My heart races at the simple gesture and I give a gentle squeeze as I pick up the pace, hips pistoning at a pace I forgot I could reach. I’m about to speak but every thought leaves my mind when I look down at his leaking cock. Just past that, I notice a bulge that appears every time I slam into him.

“Holy fucking shit-” I hiss as I watch in wonder. A new wave of arousal crashes over me at the sight and I’m hit with the urge to breed him; to make him wholly mine. I know it makes no sense but I can’t help it. “Lixie, baby, you’re so fucking perfect…” I groan and he squeezes my hand.

I release his dick and ghost my fingers over the bulge appearing in his belly with each thrust. He whines in disappointment at the loss of stimulation but lifts his head when he feels my fingertips on his skin. He zeroes in on what I’m fixated on and I feel him clench around me, drawing a loud moan from me. “Oh fuck-” His jaw drops as he watches, precum dribbling on his skin at the sight, which only makes it hotter. “Oh fuck ‘m gonna cum-” He warns and I instantly wrap my hand back around his cock, set on finishing him off.

I’m fighting to stay composed as I fuck into him. I want him to cum first. And he does. He lets out a cry that resembles my name as cum spurts across his belly, his grip on my hand tightening as he shudders in pleasure. I don’t stop jacking him off until he’s trembling and squeezing my hand almost painfully. Finally, I release him. “Where do you want it, bab-?”

He doesn’t even let me finish speaking. “Inside. Please cum inside.” His tone is desperate as he begs and he sounds close to tears. Not being able to refuse him, I let go.

My thrusts become sloppy and a moment later my orgasm crashes over me. I rut into him desperately, my entire body overtaken by a euphoria I’ve never experienced before. I’m pinning his hands above his head as I fall into him even before the ecstasy has passed, hips still jerking as I crash my lips to his in a desperate kiss.

He moans against my lips, squeezing my hands as my hips slow. Finally, I still as my tongue dips into his mouth. He still tastes like that blue raspberry lollipop from earlier.

I hum as I pull back for air and he bites his lip as he looks up at me. We stare at each other in silence, both of us praying that this isn’t a one time thing but neither of us willing to ask. I release his hands in favor of playing with his hair after pushing it out of his face. “You did so good.”

“Mm usually I’m the one giving the praise, sweetheart.” I tease and he giggles softly, bringing his hands to my cheeks and tracing my cheekbones with his thumbs.

“Well I’m the one with more experience so I get to dole out praises this time.” He sticks his tongue out playfully before smiling up at me again. “Seriously though, you’re fucking amazing.”

I lean down and peck his lips again before sitting up, pulling him with me so we’re still chest to chest. I’m vaguely aware of the way our bodies are pressed together, his cum smearing across both of us now. More importantly, I’m aware of how the change in position drives me deeper into him; aware of the tiny gasp that slips past his lips.

“I think that’s you, baby.” I whisper and peck his lips again. I can’t help myself. I’ve wanted to kiss him for a whole year now.

He goes quiet for a moment as he looks at me and I wonder what he’s thinking. Before I can ask, he’s tipping us over and I’m landing on my back beneath him. “No, it’s you. I can’t get enough.” He whispers and rolls his hips.

I hiss at the motion and plant my feet on the mattress, trying to tighten my grip on him to hold him still while I buck into him, but he pushes my hands away. He grabs my wrists and pins my hands by my head at first, pulling back so he can look down at me. My softening dick begins to stiffen again and I make a mental note to contemplate exactly why it was so hot to be pinned down by him when he’s the most obviously submissive man I’ve ever met. Then he releases me and sits up properly on my lap.

“What have you done to me?” He whines softly, lifting himself up so just the tip is inside before dropping back down. I raise an eyebrow as my hands move to his hips and he tips his head back, looking up at himself in the mirror. “You already wrecked me, why am I still so fucking horny?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his complaint. “What? Tiny baby needs to be filled with cum again to feel satisfied?” My tone is mocking and I can feel the effect my words have on him. He clenches around me as his whole body tenses and I see his eyes slip shut in the mirror as he makes a pathetic noise.

“Yes! God yes-” He moans, pushing into my touch when my hands move to squeeze his ass. “Want you to fill me up again. Wanna make you cum for me again…” He babbles on as he lifts himself up and drops back down, letting out what almost sounds like a squeal.

He sets a steady pace like this, a symphony of the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard falling from his lips as he rides me. His head lolls around, alternating between watching himself in the mirror and looking down at me. I can’t tear my eyes away from his body, fixated on the way his muscles contract and the bulge that appears as he fucks me.

I don’t know what possesses me to do this, but I slap his ass and he jolts on top of me. His dick twitches and he moans out my name. He leans forwards and places his hands on my abs, balancing himself as he rocks back on my dick. I buck my hips and he whimpers. “No no no, lemme do it. I wanna do this. Wanna make you cum…” He argues and I can't deny him anything so I comply.

It’s difficult to stay still but I settle for guiding his hips. His head hangs as he rides me, his moans growing increasingly desperate each time our bodies meet. My body is on fire at the slight overstimulation but I welcome it.

Felix doesn’t seem to be faring as well. His moans have turned into cries and he tries to hide his face from me by tossing his head back as he sits up. I see it though and I notice the tears. I’m worried but he’s still going, lifting himself up with much effort and dropping back down in a heap. “Baby, do you need a break?”

“J-just a little…” he wipes his cheeks but doesn’t stop moving. “But I wanna keep going.”

“Why don’t you let me take over, Lixie?” He shakes his head and I gently squeeze his hips. “Please, angel?” He freezes at the name and nods after a moment of silence.

I immediately sit up and make him lay back before pulling out, some of my cum leaking out of him. I don’t bother asking him to roll over, I position him myself. I put him on his belly and push one leg up, like the way he’d laid while sucking me off. I grab his ass and see him clench around nothing, whimpering at my treatment of him. “Please fuck me, Binnie…” He whines out and I squeeze some more lube onto my dick before I line up.

I push into him and set a rough pace, giving his ass a slap as I listen to his wails. His hands fist the sheets as lewd squelching and the sound of skin slapping fills the room. He lets out a pretty sob every time I slap his ass.

My gaze bounces back and forth between his ass - I can’t help but admire the way it jiggles every time I slam into him - and his hands twisted in the sheets. He looks so pretty on display for me like this, crying into my sheets. It’s better than any dream I could’ve had and my dick twitches inside him. Fuck I’m close.

“Fuck- Binnie, please cum inside! Please- want you to cum first and fill me up-” He begs and my dick twitches again.

“Yeah? Gonna take it all like a good boy? Gonna cum and make a mess of my sheets?”

“Yes!” He sobs and I can't help myself. I give in to the fire licking at my skin and cum, relishing in his moans as I fill him up. He shudders beneath me as he joins me, his body jerking with the force of his orgasm.

I don’t stop until I’m on fire, until I can’t take it anymore. He’s trembling now. I pull out slowly and he makes a small sound of protest. I lean down and press my lips to his shoulder, kissing there several times before sitting back up. “You did so good for me, baby. Took it so well.” I coo as I gently roll him onto his back, only to discover he’d had a dry orgasm.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully and I nod, leaning back over him and swiping my knuckles over his cheeks to dry his tears.

“Yeah.” I offer a small smile before pecking his pouty lips. “Why don’t you let me get you cleaned up and then we can snuggle?”

“How about I go get cleaned up while you change the sheets and then we cuddle?” He laughs softly, taking in a shaky breath afterwards as he stares up at me in what I can only describe as adoration.

“Do you want me to help you to the bathroom?” I ask as we both sit up and he shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” He assures me as he stands. Part of me deflates a little because I want to dote on him, but that part is pacified when he turns around and plants his lips on mine. I rise up on my knees as we kiss, pulling him against me. I frown a little when he pulls back. “I’ll be right back.”

I nod and watch him walk into my en suite bathroom before pulling myself from my trance. Holy shit. I fucked my best friend.

I get up from the bed and quickly pull the sheets off, using them to wipe his cum off my stomach and clean my dick. I toss them in the hamper and grab a pair of boxers, pulling them on before going to the closet to get fresh sheets.

I’m wrestling with the fitted sheet when Felix comes out of the bathroom and grabs his boxers from the floor. “Need a hand?” He teases, his usual glow back tenfold.

“Maybe a little.” I chuckle and he helps me quickly finish making the bed before crawling under the sheets. I join him and prop up on one arm, resting my head on my hand. I take a moment to admire him, his bright eyes framed with long lashes and full lips that could easily put any Bratz doll to shame, before speaking. “How long did you know?”

He takes a moment to take me in as well before answering. “I only assumed, but ever since you told me you had ‘an intimate dream about a guy’ after icing me out for two weeks. It made sense. I wondered why you avoided me but then you told me you had that dream and I guessed it had something to do with me.”

“Then…how long have you thought about sleeping with me?” I might be pushing my luck but I’m curious.

“Long before you ever questioned your sexuality.” He scoffs at himself and looks down at my bare chest with a ghost of a smile, his cheeks going a soft pink. “I think it started that day at the park when we were in high school. Remember that picnic we went on? You were by my side the whole time and you complimented me a few times. You just looked so good that day and you were so laid back and fun, I couldn't help but admire you. That never really changed though, you being carefree.”

It’s my turn to blush now. A smile creeps onto my face as I listen and I finally wrap an arm around him, pulling him against me. “That long?” He nods and I kiss his forehead. “You must’ve known something I didn’t back then.” I tease.

“No,” he laughs. “I used to lament the fact I had a crush on the straight guy.” He snuggles into my chest and lets out a soft sigh. “Part of me wondered if I was ever obvious about it. I don’t know if I ever acted weird around you. I feel like I did.”

“If you did, I never noticed. You’ve always been a sweetheart, I just figured you were extra sweet in private with everyone.” I laugh in spite of myself. How did I never pick up on it? To be fair, I thought I was straight until a little over a year ago. “It’s endearing.”

“It is?” I can hear his smile in his voice.

“It is. Everything about you is. You’re the resident sunshine, after all.”

“I like when you call me stuff like that.”

“Yeah?” He nods. “I think ‘angel’ is your favorite, hmm?” He nods again and I kiss the top of his head before laying my head down. “Cute. Well I’m glad you like it because I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“You better not.” He’s pouting now, I’m sure of it.

“Don’t worry, baby, I won't.”

“Good. You better keep calling me your baby.” I can’t stop the smile I’m wearing from growing wider.

“I will because you are.” I hum. I don’t know what we are but I do know we’re more than friends and I do know I’m never getting over him. “Sweet dreams.” I whisper when I notice his breathing even out.

Whatever this is, I’m content to hold him in my arms for the rest of the night.

[welcometololaland]

2023 in summary - slightly less productive than 2022, with way more speed bumps than usual (lying catatonic in bed for a month was not on the agenda, surprisingly). Here's to a better 2024!

Fandoms: I added to the chaos this year by jumping into Top Gun Maverick, but Ao3 tells me my beloved in 2023 was 911 Lone Star. I also wrote more RWRB fics, so that rounded out the holy trinity.

Total words (on Ao3) in 2023: 404,508 of posted fic (with a few thousand yet to go). 2023 pushed my total word count over 1 million 💜

Total words (unposted, in my Google Docs but written in 2023):

40k approx of Pet Store AU (co-write with @strandnreyes)

14k approx of Call Me (co-write with @rmd-writes)

44k approx of Eurotrip (although I think I only wrote about 15k of that in 2023).

3k of The Ring-In 2.0.

1k of Christmas fic.

31k of 10 Things I Hate About You AU.

11k of Product Placement.

so...like a LOT of unposted WIP.

Most recent fic: a long time ago (we used to be friends)

Longest fic: the fic above at 166k approx (my longest ever! for now...)

Top fic by kudos: Fifty First Dates (the oodie agenda reigns supreme)

Top fic by comments: Cursed is a State of Mind (cursed coffee is a hot topic)

Projects for 2024: Finishing something of the above? If my most recent RWRB fic does okay, maybe I'll dedicate my whole summer to Eurotrip? Idk. I keep running out of steam worrying it's going to be a flop lol.

What I want to read: SO MUCH. guys. I'm so behind. I'm so, so sorry. I need to finish Knave 3 by @liminalmemories21, the Gabriel fic by @wandering-night19, the prompt fills by @strandnreyes, first aid by @heartstringsduet, the angsty fic by @carlos-in-glasses, bottom carlos that came out the other day by @goodways, the food fic by @reyesstrand, fear kidnapped tk fic by @birdclowns, the boxing au (is it out yet?? i'm seriously so pathetic) by @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut and legit so many other things that are just not at the top of my mind yet. OH and i am frothing at the mouth to read accidental couples therapy firstprince by @cha-melodius and i heard that @cricketnationrise and maybe someone else wrote a fic about oodies?? @celeritas2997 send me the links!!!!!!! and the percy jackson au by @inexplicablymine @read-and-write- and @happiness-of-the-pursuit. also i never sat down and finished to build a home part 3 @freneticfloetry i owe you that please don't think i've forgotten!!! okay guys do you see how frantic my brain is now? please don't judge me i'm sure there's WAY MORE i'm just forgetting. everyone send me their reading lists!!!!!! i finally have time!!!!! also i'm gonna put @celeritas2997 sweet sweet voice in my ear and listen to her podfic to calm me down. OH AND ALL THE SNOWFLAKS (@everwitch-magiks @clottedcreamfudge @athousandrooms @dustratcentral @three-drink-amy @indomitable-love @villiageidiot @rmd-writes).

Lolaland over and out! (Maybe, maybe there is time in the year for a couple more thousand words...)

[whoreforharleezy03]

the Harlow household 🫶

warnings: talks about IVF if you squint, mostly fluff

summary: it all started when...

a\n: this is my first story about the Harlow's and i want to write more about them. This is kind of just so you can get to know them and everything, hope you like it! (also y/n has no race so it could be anyone! But her pronounce are she/her, if you want me to make a fiction with other pronounce dm me 🥰)

This is also kind of short but whatever 😌💅

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you found out that you were expecting you were quite suprised. You and Jack weren't really trying but you guys weren't preventing it, you just didn't think it would actually happen.

You decided that you wanted to suprise your husband by setting up a box and putting a little onesie with your pregnancy test in it.

But when he came home, you got too excited and didn't waste any time.

"I'm pregnant!" you said, trying to hide the happy tears in your eyes.

Jack just stared at you, having no idea what to say or do. 

Your excitement went down, thinking he was disappointed.

"Are you mad?"

Jack looked at you, still no words coming out of his mouth.

Until he finally was able to form a sentence

"No, no, I just wasn't expecting that. I'm just in shock."

Then it finally hit him, he was going to be a father.

"You're pregnant?" he asked

You nodded.

"Y/n, you're actually pregnant?"

You nodded with more excitement.

"I fucking love you so much." He said as he pulled you into the tightest hug.

That was the day your life would change forever.

-

Your first pregnancy was tough, you had mood swings all over the place, your morning sickness was terrible, you had heart burns and swollen feet. But Jack loved all those things about you.

Jack knew it was going to be a girl from the start, so it was not a suprise to him when the cake was revealed to be pink. 

On January 24th you went into labor after being 8 days overdue. You were so relieved to finally get to birth that damn child and stop being pregnant, but little did you know you ended up to be in labor for 38 hours. It was a nightmare! When you wrote on your birth plan that you wanted an 'all natural labor with no epidural' you weren't expecting to be in labor for 38 hours?!?

Poor Jack had to suffer too

"I SWEAR TO GOD WE ARE NOT GETTING ANOTHER ONE"

Was a quote you said often, or-

"I AM GOING TO RIP YOUR FUCKING BALLS OFF"

You also used.

Jack had never in his life been more scared of you, the poor man was just trying to give you the ice chips you asked for.

On January 26th 12:01 AM, you had a beautiful baby girl. 

You two hadn't really thought of a name that much, or- you had talked about it often, you could just never agree on a name.

But looking at her, the name just somehow came to you.

~Amani Noelle Harlow~

-

Children really do change you. A year ago you were problably drinking with your friends or having a romantic night out with your husband.

Now you two were sleep deprived with a one year old and probably haven't showered in two weeks.

Amani was looking more and more like Jack over time.

Her freckles were getting more noticeable, her curls and her eyes were becoming just like his.

She is truly his doppelgänger.

-

When Amani was two you found out that you were pregnant again.

Now this time you were trying.

Jack sat there with you on the bathroom floor, waiting for a positive answer after many negative ones.

You didn't understand why and how you got pregnant when you weren't trying but now that you were trying, God doesn't let you. You've been trying for months and you had almost given up. You had been starting to think about IVF but decided to try maybe a few more tries before deciding to go on that difficult road.

But after that three minute timer, expecting disappointment when you would look at the test result it turned out to be... positive?

You were shocked, Jack cried, you hugged. You were reliving the same best day as three years ago.

Your second pregnancy was way easier. Of course you had morning sickness but not like when you had your first.

-

" Dad, do you also have a baby in your belly like mama."

" No.. why? "

" Oh, then you're just fat. "

Amani's personality was definitely shining through.

She was sassy and determined. She went by her own rules and didn't listen to anybody else. You could say that all those traits came from her mother.

You were due on may 8th but you went into labor on april 16th and had her at the 17th of april at 3:07 PM, this time you only had to suffer through nineteen hours of labor instead of thirty eight.

You decided on her name probably a month before she was born, and Jack liked and agreed on the name-

~ Ayla Adele Harlow ~

-

Now two years later you are so happy that all that happened.

With your loving husband, your sassy five year old and your shy two year old things couldn't be more great.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Okay so this is NOT my best work but like i said this is just kind of an introduction to this series so please feel free to send requests 🫶)

[leegemma]

Hi! It's Gemma.

So I wrote this one really really quickly and I only now realized that I was supposed to work on my marvel one 😫. So I am so sorry and I promise to finish the marvel one very soon.

This one is a harry potter one! Now, here's the thing: last time i watched a Harry Potter movie was probably 5 years ago. But I was a huge fan when I was younger, so I hope it's fine.

Enjoy:))

Warning:

This is a tickle fic!!!

***************************************

You looked up to the sky, looking at the pretty sky on this pretty summer day. You were sitting outside next to the lake with your three best friends. Chatting about anything.

"We'll have to take an exam later today. Have you prepared, Ronald?" Hermione turned to look at the scared looking Ron.

"I- I don't want to answer that!" Ron huffed and crossed his arms.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't. Harry, what about you?"

Harry, who was looking lost in thought (as always), turned to hermione. "Hm?"

Hermione groaned. "Seriously, you two! You have to study more! I bet y/n did!"

All three heads turned to you, which made you blush slightly.

"I uhh... yeah, I think I'm ready."

Hermione proudly at you. "That's what I'm talking about!"

She went to pull you in for a friendly side hug but was stopped when Ron poked her side. Instead, she squealed and jumped. "Ronald!"

You looked over to see Ron smirking a bit at Hermione, then shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe that'll get you to stop annoying me and Harry." He then jumped right at the girl and started tickling her mercilessly.

You quickly jumped out of their way and crawled over to where harry was sitting.

"You don't want to get in their little fight?" He asked you, an amused expression on his face.

You shook your head and smiled at him. "If anyone ever found out how ticklish I am I don't think I'll be able to walk aro-" you slapped your head onto your mouth. Eyes widening.

Suddenly Hermione's hysterical laughter calmed down and you looked over to see both her and Ron staring at you blankly. Only starting to smirk evily a couple of seconds after realizing.

You got up and went to hide behind Harry.

"N-no! Harry's not gonna let you!"

"Let us what, y/n?" Ron asked teasingly.

"Why do you look so scared, y/n?" Hermione started wiggling her fingers towards you.

"Stohop! Harry, help!" You held on to his shoulders while he was still sitting on the grass.

"No can do." He shrugged again, a smile on his face this time.

"Jeherk" you giggled in anticipation, trying to protect yourself from the two monsters who were slowly making their way towards you.

"No. I don't think we will." With that, Ron quickly grabbed your arms and wrestled you to the ground gently. Managing to pin your arms over your head while he sat behind your head.

"That's great, thank you Ron." Hermione came over and sat on your hips. Giggling with you as she started slowly stroking your neck.

After about a minute of gentle tickles, Ron was starting to get bored and decided to take matters to his own hands by quickly letting go of your wrists and digging into your armpits. Making you scream.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I guess that means go..." and with that, she started kneading your sides and hips.

"Harry! Get her legs and feet!" Ron yelled.

Harry seemed to think about it for a while, then nodded and walked over. Sitting next to your legs and digging under your knees.

"I CAHANT ANYHYMORE!" You finally said after a few minutes of heaven torture.

The three giggled and got off you. Hermione immidiatly going in to hug you and the boys slowly joining in.

"I hope we didn't take it too far?" She moved a piece of your hair behind your ear.

You shook your head, your face heating up. "It was actually kind of fun..."

Ron started smirking again and was just about to poke your side when you moved out of the way. "Buhut noho mohore! I had enough for today"

Ron went back to hugging you. "Whatever you say..."

[appalachianapologies]

okay so I was tagged by @lailuhhh and @rosieblogstuff and I think one other person (i am so sorry i forgor) many days ago and i am finally doing the first sentence of ten works thing. I guess the general consensus is no one knows whether or not this is for WIPs or posted things so like many others I'll just do a combo of both :D

From a wip that is uhhhh 22k and counting long, titled in my google docs as simply "fuck it desi lore," starting off strong with a sentence that I don't think is actually grammatically correct but you know what sometimes the vibes matter more than grammar and you can quote me on that: Later, Desi will feel guilty for it.

From chapter one of Remittent Distress, we have a line that sounds like it's going to be macriley WHICH IT IS NOT- (PS she's just out on a little mini mission she's not dead or anything) During the three days that Riley has been gone, Mac's been coping poorly.

Another chapter one first sentence, we have the first line of what's shaping up to be my next book! Cue the school intercom noise... "Good morning Ravens, happy Tuesday, and happy first day of school!"

Next we have chapter one (not the prologue) of False Dawn, which is a WIP that keeps me up at night and makes me feel far too many emotions at once: Bozer has a strange affinity for sending physical letters.

We have a bit of a secret fic that's up next- set in Tender Mercies universe, except this is set approximately 10 years in the future from Aground, the most recent fic in the series. Mac makes it a single step into the visitation cell before freezing on the spot.

Next up we have the first line of one of my favorite fics of mine, where we get some Sam Cage! (sam my beloved). Get ready for the first sentence of Episteme! Samantha Cage, despite her evergrowing want to be out of the life she threw herself into, isn’t exactly sure how to stay out of it.

Okay so this is the first line at the moment, but might not be if/when I finally get around to writing the vast majority of this fic. After drafting out an entire fic on a plane ride about a year ago, I only actually fully wrote out a few paragraphs. Here's the beginning of it as of right now: “Arriving in forty-five minutes,” comes the eventual answer through Mac’s earpiece. 

Now we have the first line from Past + Fire + Present, purely because I think it's a fabulous addition to the whole point of this post (and also this does happen to be a fic that i am quite happy about how it came out). The first sentence is a little bit lack-luster though... Hands.

Changing things up a bit, this next sentence is from my 95% finished The Martian fic that has been 95% finished for over a year at this point. I really just need to write two more paragraphs and post it at this point, but here's the start! Sneaking out of Beck's quarters as soon as he stepped out to talk to the rest of the crew was probably not the brightest of plans, but I can’t take it back now.

And to end things off, we're going to hop back to Remittent Distress, but this time in the form of the first sentence for chapter three! (Currently working on it, fear not) It’s to be expected.

I'm fairly certain that at this point everyone that I know has been tagged in this (and I'm also like a week or two late at this point), so if you see this, assume you're being tagged! (and also if you write your own please tag me somewhere in it so I can read your sentences :D)

[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter Nine: I Want You

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Michael takes care of you after a long day at work.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, but other than that fluff, fluff, FLUFF!

Word Count: 5.7k

A/n: This is so sweet y'all. I wrote some real domestic shit here and I am so excited to share this with you. I re-read it a million times and added even more fluff until I decided it was okay to post. Also, I said on AO3 that we have about 2-3 chapters with fluff before the Angst Train takes off again. The next one is a little angstier, but there is also a lot of fluff in there, and you're only going to start hating me after Chapter 12 :) If you want to be tagged or I forgot to tag you, let me know! (AND LOOK AT MY smiley little baby AHHH)

You find yourself at work when it finally happens.

Your phone pings and you look down to find two messages on your screen. One is from Michael, and when you open it, you have to stop yourself from laughing because why is he sending you a picture of your unicorn mug with a double espresso in it?

You store it away to answer later. The message that matters most to you is the one underneath. Maya’s name stands written over your lock screen and you have never opened your texts faster. 

‘Dad gave me my phone back. Going on the field trip on Saturday. Got my friend to vouch for the money. They agreed. Thank you again, so much <3 Love you.’

You almost cry out of pure relief. You do cry, in fact, but just a little. A stray tear slides down your cheek from the corner of your eye. 

Hearing Sarah’s footsteps, you quickly wipe your cheek and stuff your phone away, knowing that you’re not allowed to use it during work hours, let alone behind the counter. 

“Girl, there’s this lad in the ‘no work’ section,” she says, clearly not noticing the tears in your eyes. “He’s like, so hot. I’d fuck him.”

You’re not even surprised anymore when it comes to your friend’s ability to have the most random conversations. 

“Oh yeah?” you say, “Is that why you chose to personally bring him his coffee this time?”

“If ya looked at him, ya’d understand.”

You brush the wrinkles out of your apron and refocus on the dishes that still require to be washed after the first crowd of tourists came in and managed to ruin the three-hours worth of cleaning from the night before. 

Truth be told, you couldn’t be any less interested in the customer she mentioned, and you don’t plan on checking him out. A few weeks ago, you might have. It used to be your favorite thing to do, battling about who gets to treat the good-looking customers that came into the café. But for you, that is over now. You don't need it anymore. 

You found your good-looking customer a few days ago, and you would prefer to stay with him. 

“What, not even an interested glance?” Sarah asks. 

You shrug. “Why should I?”

“Because he’s hot–“ she breaks off into a gasp. “Oh, girl! You are down bad.”

You look away to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Shut up,” you retort, using the red towel next to the sink to dry the first few mugs from the rack. 

She eyes you before stepping closer and pulling your shirt aside. You frown at her bold move, but after spending so much time together, you no longer have boundaries. 

Sarah roams her eyes over your neck and the little bit of cleavage you’re showing. The hickeys are bright purple now, the edges slightly red where the blood is just starting to pool and she gasps again. She makes it sound as if she found out the most scandalous piece of information and you’re the main attraction in this case. 

“You’re walkin’ ‘round with hickeys now?” she asks, her voice hushed yet loud at the same time.

It sounds like she’s squealing, almost, but you’re not sure if it’s positive. 

“What are ya, fifteen?”

You pull away from her, pulling your shirt further up to cover at least the imprint of Michael’s lips on your breast. The one on your neck is for everyone to see; you didn’t bother covering it up, you’re embracing it, and you considered taking a picture to drive him crazy at home. If only he knew the glances you’ve received throughout the day, he would be at the door in a second, caging you against the wall and–

Sarah calls your name, her fingers snapping in front of your face. You blink out of your haze, your cheeks even redder now as the arousal floods through your body and meets with the yearning between your legs. 

She was right; you are down bad.

“These look brutal,” she comments, but now she doesn’t seem as angry anymore.

Maybe Michael is growing on her.

Instead of berating you, she leans her hip against the counter and smirks. “Did ya have sex last night?” 

You bite your lip. It feels weird to be talking about it because your love life has been non-existent for a very long time and you forgot what it’s like to tell your friend about good sex, but Michael is exceptional in bed and he never leaves you dissatisfied. It’s something you should brag about and yet it’s so intimate, something special between the two of you because every time you do it, it’s different. There’s not just unbridled desire between you, the emotions are just as raw and they make the experience so much more intense. 

You sigh softly when you think about the feeling of his lips against yours, your neck, and the rest of your body. His hands burn their marks into your skin. The way he sounds, smells, and feels. You can’t tear your mind away from the man he is, and he is all yours.

Sarah’s smirk widens into a grin. “Oh, yer gettin’ dicked down every night now, huh?” she says. “And you’re enjoyin’ every last minute of it. I bet yer thinkin’ ‘bout it right now.”

“You know,” you say, trying to somehow save yourself, but it’s futile because she’s right; you are thinking about him right now. Snapping out of it, you continue, “You are very invested in my sex life for someone who claims she doesn’t like the guy I’m sleeping with.”

“Yes, I am a hypocrite, but I’ve noticed that you look a lot… happier, and if he’s good in bed, I mean, why shouldn’t I profit from these stories? I’m chronically single. Doesn’t mean I like Mister I’m-A-Mobster, but if his cock is good–“

“I don’t like the thought of you thinking about his cock.”

“Alright, alright, just let me have a little somethin’. I just want to know some details. Bread crumbs. Just a taste. Please? I don’t want his cock, but I want to know more about it, if ya know wha’ I mean.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as you lean in, wanting to keep this as private as possible. “Well,” you say, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes and reflecting in the mug you’re polishing right now, “My dining table suffered a little last night, and I’m not talking about spilling food.”

Sarah gasps again, burying her head in her hands. “Oh, my God!” she as much as shrieks, and you have to squeeze her shoulder to stop her from causing a scene. 

“Yeah,” you chuckle, and it sounds almost proud.

What have you turned into?

She claps her hands excitedly. “Did it break?” she asks. And she almost looks disappointed when you tell her that no, it didn’t break. It only squeaked a little and left scratches on the floorboards after you were done fucking on it like wild animals. But that’s all that happened to your precious dining table.

“It should have broken ‘cause that’s the best kind of sex. If it doesn’t, yer not doin’ it hard enough.”

You snort. “Let’s just say he knows how to make me come,” you say. 

She smirks. “Like hard, or–“

“Mhm.”

“Does he cuddle after sex? Be honest.”

“The cuddliest.”

“Aw, man!” She fans herself. “What else?”

“Well, the way he does it… oh, Sarah, if only you knew.” You sigh. “So good.” 

Her eyes widen, hoping you will spill a little more than a few mysterious bits and pieces, but then your lips curl up and she knows she has been defeated.

“That’s all you need to know,” you say. 

“Ugh,” she says, “You’re boring!”

She pouts when you turn away from her to treat the next customer who just came in. 

Passing by her as you prepare the order, you halt to whisper something into her ear, “If you give that hottie your number, you might get good sex, too. Maybe even some morning cuddles like me. This café turns out to be a great match-maker.”

Seeing her face, it’s clear that Sarah considers taking your advice the second it leaves your mouth and reaches her ear.

You have an excellent day. After Maya’s text, there is seemingly nothing that can ruin your mood. The customers are all nice to you and you give them your best smile, which results in a lot of tips. You can already see a brighter future for your bank account, considering Ava allowed you to close up shop at the end of the day and do some overtime to add some more hours, and you have never been more grateful. 

You promised her you wouldn’t get overworked so easily, but when you’re finally done cleaning the café, your feet and back hurt and you’re almost too exhausted to even make your way home. But you still do because your thoughts flick to Michael and you know you won’t be alone when you get home. That’s all that matters to you when you make your way to your car and drive home.

Slowing down at the gas station, everything seems normal again after the shooting except for the police taping locking the place down for business, but you don’t feel as much threat coming from it now that the worst is cleaned up. 

Hearing that Michael’s family was involved in the shooting shocked you to your core, but death doesn’t scare you, it hasn’t for a long time, and neither does violence. What scares you is the fact that it is so damn messy, and you don’t fully understand the magnitude of the life he grew up in and his family continues to lead.

You don’t appreciate violence, so you don’t appreciate them making a living with the suffering of others – with bloodshed and drugs. It must eventually grow sad and lonely, right? It must be traumatizing. Michael is traumatized. He lost so much to his name and now he’s broken. You can’t imagine the others not feeling that way unless they’re psychopaths in which case you never want to meet them.

They’re dangerous and you should stay away, but Michael does not fit on that roster. And somehow, when you think about it, you’re more curious now than ever about what the Kinsellas have got to hide.

With every step up the stairs to your apartment, your feet grow more tired. You just want to get out of these clothes and these shoes, maybe take a hot bath to get rid of the ache in your muscles, and sleep. You have been so wound up and in your head thanks to Maya and your incompetent family, you didn’t notice how awful you have been feeling. 

You open the door, almost crying from how exhausted you are. Only after closing the door and locking the deadbolt, do you notice that the apartment is rather warm. Your heater doesn’t always work perfectly, so it’s often too cold. Tonight though, you can feel the comfortable heat of candles and a working heater hug you as soon as you step inside. 

Then you smell it. The softest whiff of pasta and garlic lies in the air. You sniff, trying to make out if it’s your neighbor’s cooking or coming from your kitchen. When you hear the clanging of utensils ahead of you, you realize that it’s not just anyone making dinner in the complex, it’s Michael. In your home. For you.

He somehow got the heater to work and still turned on a few candles to make it more comfortable for you before you got home. Now you want to cry even more because it is just so considerate, no one has ever done something of this magnitude for you before – and it’s somehow only the bare minimum.

You leave your coat and bag by the door, slowly walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Don’t get startled, I’m not a serial killer,” you say.

Michael’s head whips around when he senses your presence, his frown quickly turning into a smile. “Hey,” he says. “Yer home.”

Home. It’s a normal thing to say, but he’s referring to your apartment, the one he is staying in, and now he even cooked for you. It feels like he belongs here now, with you. 

He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a cozy, green sweater. You remember it from the first day you met. The color reminded you of the cloudy Dublin weather, but also the grass whenever it rains.

He smells good, you can tell it from where you’re standing, once again reminding you of ground coffee beans, rain, and Michael. It’s his unique scent that draws you in the most. It’s woody, almost, but also holds a certain whiff of leaves in autumn and the feeling of the soft summer air during a clear London night. You can’t explain it; there are too many sensations when it comes to him, and none of them can be put into words. 

“You okay?” his gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes are a little wider than usual, cheeks already flushed from the warmth as you look around. “What’s all this?” you ask, your voice carrying a soft, quiet tone.

Michael frowns. “Dinner?” He smiles shyly. “I thought I’d, uh, make you somethin’ ‘cause ya said ya had to work late again today, so… Sorry, I–“

You raise your hand. “I’m not mad.” 

“What?”

“I’m… you did this?” Your eyes soften even more. “For me?”

“Well, yeah, who else would I be doin’ this for? Wouldn’t cook dinner all fer myself, that’s kind of… tha’ would be a lot.”

“Michael, I…”

“Are you sure yer okay?”

With silent steps, you approach him. He follows you with his curious gaze, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to read you. You wrap your arms around his neck in answer, pulling him down into a kiss. 

He smiles when he pulls away. “Hi,” he murmurs. “What was tha’ for?”

“Being you,” you say.

It warms your heart that he went out of his way to make you dinner. He made sure the apartment would be warm enough for you because you hate the cold and he notices how much you freeze at night, and how much you rely on his body to provide heat. But you were always too proud to get someone to look at your heater, so he took a look at it for you and found an easy fix. He did all of that without batting an eye, using his time alone for good, and you’re not sure how to react to that.

“Your heater had a few loose screws,” he answers your unspoken questions. “Fixed ‘em, now it’s warmer. And your tomatoes were ‘bout to go bad, so I decided I’d make some spaghetti ‘cause that’s the only thing I remember how ta make.”

You place your hands on his face, stroking the faint blush on his cheeks. “Thank you so much…” 

“Ya don’t have to thank me, love.”

“Yes, I do. That’s not something I can expect, especially not after such a short amount of time together. I mean, I haven’t always been completely open with you and that would be turn-off for a lot of people, and it would prompt them not to cook dinner or- or fix my heater. I’d totally get it if you didn’t trust me and tell me now that this won’t work out, but I–“

Michael shuts you up with a sweet kiss pressed to your lips. You’re quick to stop rambling, the softness of his lips moving against yours eliciting a warmth that comes from deep within and not from outside, and it reminds you that you’re home. It’s not the apartment that makes it feel that way, it’s home.

Ever since you moved to Dublin, you had been searching for a place to call home, but your four walls have almost just been an apartment, and you struggled. Now that Michael is here with you, you feel less stranded and alone and more like you’ve finally found somewhere you belong – and that is his arms and his lips, offering you a sanctuary and a home.

Your eyes are still closed when he pulls away. “I want ya t’be comfortable ‘round me,” he says.

You can feel his hot breath fanning across your face, his fingers painting delicate patterns on the back of your neck where he is holding your forehead close to his. 

“Michael, I–” you begin, but the words elude you. 

“Shh,” he shushes you with his index finger against your lips. “It’s okay. Let’s just… have dinner, and then I’ll run ya a bath, and then we’ll watch a movie. I wanna be with ya. I don’t care if it takes a day, a month, or a year fer ya to open up ta me ‘cause I have so much left to tell ya, too; as long as I get to be with ya and get to know who you are, that’s all I care about.”

You nod in response, unable to find the right words. You have always been just a caretaker and telling people the truth has never become important before because no one cared before, but he does. With Michael, it seems that you have found someone who sees you for who you truly are, flaws and all. You have found a home. In his eyes, you're not just someone who exists solely to take care of others. You're worth more than that, and he's taking care of you for a change to prove that to you. 

With a quivering smile, you brush your thumb against his cheek, cherishing the warmth beneath your touch. "I... I want that too," you finally manage to say. 

He leans in and kisses the pad of your thumb. “I know you do,” he says. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but–”

“Shh, let me take care of ya. You’d say the same thing ta me right now. And don’t say no ‘cause we both know ya would.”

Your shoulders slack as you sigh. He’s right; you can be quite the hypocrite sometimes. He smiles when your protests die down and takes your hand to lead you to the table. 

Watching him, you are amazed by how natural he looks moving around your kitchen. He’s in his element, and you mentally add another talent to his list – he seems to be an excellent cook, or he can at least stand his own in a kitchen, which is something not many can say about themselves. 

With a shy smile, he places the pasta in front of you. Michael put in the extra effort to plate the food well enough to make it look as delicious as it smells. You decorate coffee cups for a living, you know the eye of the beholder plays a big role in how food and drinks are consumed, so you appreciate it even more that he used herbs to garnish the spaghetti. 

“I’m not the best cook,” he begins. 

You glare at him from across the table, grabbing your fork. “It smells good,” you tell him. “And I’m sure it tastes just as amazing.”

“If it doesn’t, we could still order pizza.”

“Michael, darling, please stop expecting the worst from yourself whenever you create something.”

“I can’t help it, I–”

You shush him, digging into the pasta and taking a huge bite as if to prove to him you would still eat it even if it tasted like trash. You love cooking and you often do so for others because it is therapeutic, in a way. You used to cook for your sister all the time, and you would help your mother when she couldn’t. You used to make dinner for the whole family to prevent confrontation or any unnecessary violence because the fear was greater than hunger, and so food became a means for survival in more ways than once. 

You don’t like to dwell on the past, but there is a reason why you often cook for yourself rather than order takeout; you don’t know any better, and that’s also why in every relationship you have been in, you were the sole provider when it came to breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

Having Michael cook for you is something you never thought you would experience, let alone enjoy, but the second the delicious taste of tomato sauce, garlic, and spaghetti meets your tongue, you are in heaven. 

“It’s made with love,” Michale murmurs, “I hope that’s enough.”

You reach out and gently touch his hand. “This is…” you lick your lips. He is an amazing cook, he even exceeded your expectations. “It's delicious,” you say. “And I don't just say it because I like you. This is really good.”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yes, really. This is probably the best fucking pasta I’ve ever had.”

“It’s an Italian recipe,” he says, slowly beginning to curl his own spaghetti around his fork. “Birdy brought it home with her after one of her trips and she taught me ‘cause Anna, when she was still little, I mean, loved pasta more than anythin’...” He chuckles. “So I thought I should learn how to make spaghetti, but I always thought… well, never mind.”

“You thought everyone was just pretending to like it for your sake?” you ask. 

He shrugs. You must have hit a sore spot. Nodding, you return to eating your pasta, enjoying every last bite with a soft smile playing on your face. When you meet Michael’s eyes, he’s watching you intently, his hazel eyes carrying a look you haven’t seen before, and it makes you frown. 

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he quickly looks away, flustered.

“Tell me.”

“It’s nothin’, I just… I can’t believe yer here.”

“Well, I am very real,” you say as you finish your last bite. “And you just cooked me probably the best dinner I have ever had in my life, so… not getting rid of me that easily, Mister Kinsella.”

His chuckle resembles a giggle and the sound swells your heart. You look over your shoulder, standing at the stove now and filling your plate with some more pasta. “What?” you ask.

“Hungry?” he teases. 

You poke your tongue out at him. “Fuck off! I didn’t have the time to eat today.”

“I’m not judging.”

“You better not.”

“Lucky for ya, there's plenty more where tha’ came from.” He gestures to the pot on the stove. “Help yourself.”

You add another spoonful of sauce. “Oh, I intend to,” you say. 

“And I encourage ya to do so.”

You sit back down across from him, your legs now crossed, and you dig into your second serving with enthusiasm. Michael watches you throughout. 

“Was it stressful?” he asks eventually. “Work, I mean.”

Swallowing the bite in your mouth, you shrug. “It was pretty tame today, actually, compared to yesterday’s mess, but I was in pretty early and then I had to close up, so it’s been a long day.”

“You shouldn’t be overworkin’ yerself.”

“I’m okay.”

“Maybe you should ask fer fewer hours, hm? If I do happen to get the job, ya won’t be as understaffed and—”

“I asked for the overtime,” you cut him off. 

Your words hang heavily in the air as he processes your words, then immediately frowns when they start making sense in his head. “Why?” he asks. 

You finish your plate and set it aside, shrugging. “Needed the money,” you say. 

His frown deepens. “How much?” His hands pat his pockets as if he’s searching for something, maybe even his wallet. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Michael, you don't have to…” The last thing you want is to take money for him without him knowing why you're short this month. 

He interrupts you, still.  “Please, just tell me,” he says. “How much?”

You sigh. “Fine,” you relent. “It's not that much, just a couple hundred quid. But that's why I asked for more hours. It's just to make rent due this month. Please, don't–”

You’re not sure why the most human struggle embarrasses you so much, maybe because he doesn’t know the full story, and maybe because he thought you had somewhat control over your life and now he realizes that you don’t. It makes you feel utterly pathetic. 

He looks at you so softly, you want to cry. He pulls out a roll of money and places it between you on the table. You don’t even want to know where he got it from, a feeling of unease spreading through your body. 

“I don’t have rent to pay,” he says. “I got that from… well, doesn’t matter. Point is, I got that after I got out and was still searchin’ for a job, and then I started with Amanda and I… I don’t need it. I have some stashed away for emergencies, and if yer strugglin’ to make rent due, then you need it more than me.”

If someone from his family gave him the money, it surely is connected to drugs or any other kind of crime they use as their main source of income. He notices your hesitation and the bewildered look in your eyes, and he sighs, sliding the money back to his side. 

“I get it,” Michael looks down at his hands, “Ya don’t want it because of– Sorry.”

You reach out and gently place your hand over his, stopping him from retracting the money. “No, wait,” you say. “I'm sorry. I appreciate your kindness more than you know, but…”

“I don’t want ya to question where it came from. I get it, trust me.”

Your lips curl into a sad smile. That’s what you’re doing; you are questioning where it came from and if it could get you into trouble if you were to pay this money into your bank account. You’re questioning if Michael had something to do with getting this money in the past, or what his family did to get that batch in the first place. It looks like a lot of money, and part of you wants to take it because it would help your situation, but your common sense speaks louder than words. Besides, you don't know how to accept help even if it’s served to you on a silver platter. 

“This isn't because I don't trust you,” you feel the desperate urge to add, “This is just me… and the fact that I’m just as confused as you are, and this…. I can’t take your money, no matter if it’s from your family or not. I have to find a way to get back on my feet on my own. Somehow… I can make rent due. I have to.”

Michael gently takes your hand and places it over the money. “Yer gonna work yourself to death,” he whispers. “I just… I just want t’ help ya. If it makes you feel better, I will pay all of yer bills and your rent, you don’t even have to touch it, but I can’t watch ya do this to yerself longer than ya have to.”

You meet Michael's eyes. It's both overwhelming and comforting at the same time how concerned he is. His offer is tempting, and a part of you wants to let go of your pride and accept his help. But another part of you is fiercely determined to stand on your own feet. You don't want to be dependent on anyone ever again. But it's money, and it isn't as easy to come by as you originally thought when you first moved across the sea. 

You bury your face in your hands. “I don’t want to be a burden to you,” you admit quietly. 

“Yer not,” he says, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Please? Can I help ya just a little?”

Taking in a deep breath, you nod. 

“Is tha’ a yes?”

“Yeah,” you answer huskily. The unshed tears in your eyes are burning, your body exhausted and overly sensitive. 

He smiles, getting up and walking over to your side of the table. “C’mere,” Michael urges, his arms already outstretched for you. “Let me hold ya. Yer exhausted.”

The comforting scent of his cologne envelops you as you place your head against his chest. He embraces you tightly, his strong arms holding you as close as he humanly can, you let out a soft whimper. His hands work their making over the sore skin of your back, and you find yourself falling further into his arms until all you can feel is him. You can smell him, hear his heartbeat and feel his breath tickle the crown of your head as he leans down to kiss your scalp.   You lose yourself in the feeling and for a moment, you allow yourself to breathe, shaking off the weight of the day and the days far before that. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, your nails clawing at his shirt. “For everything. Just… thank you.” He caught you when you were falling, and you are still not quite sure what you did to deserve this kind of devotion. 

Just as you took care of him, he is taking care of you now; isn’t that what a relationship should look like? You heard about it, but you have never experienced it before he came along, but you know you don’t want to live without it anymore. 

He keeps his promise of running you a bath. The hour you spend in the tub of warm water and bubbles soothes the ache from your muscles and offers your feet some sweet relief. Your favorite candles adorn the side of the tub and you sink further into the bath, wanting to be consumed by this cozy feeling forever. 

The door opens eventually after a gentle knock, and Michael comes in to check if you’re still awake – it’s sweet that he wants to prevent you from drowning, which you appreciate because knowing you, you would fall asleep in the bathtub and fight for your survival later. 

He settles down at the edge of the tub, gazing over you. You reach out to take his hand. 

“Wanna come in?” you ask. 

“If ya want me to,” he says. 

“Always.”

“Okay.”

Michael sheds his clothes and you watch curiously as he undresses. You move a little to make space for him behind you, and he slides into the tub with you. 

You lean back against his broad chest, his arms encapsulating you instantly. You sigh. His warmth matches the one of the bath water and you find yourself hulled into a serene state of mind that doesn’t happen very often to you. 

He strokes your arms and your hair, getting some of the strands wet that you tried to tie out of your face, but with him so close to you, you don’t mind. You relish in the gentle intimacy of your moment together, and even he seems to relax visibly behind you, his muscles slacking as he pulls you fully into him.

His heartbeat thuds against your ear as you turn a little, listening to your favorite lullaby. His chest moves your head up and down with every rise and fall. 

You’re content. 

You spend some more time in silence together before the water runs cold and you are forced to get out. You get up first, wrapping yourself in a towel. Michael watches your every curve with a gentle smile on his lips, and maybe he’s a little flustered seeing you so effortlessly naked moving around him as if you have been together for years. 

As you brush your hair and tie it back up into a bun, he gets out, too, and dries himself off. You don’t talk throughout, you simply share stolen glances and soft smiles, his arms wrapping around your waist and hugging you once again. You speak through the language of touch and you both know how to translate. 

Later that night, he makes some of the Popcorn he found in your cabinet, and prepares some drinks while you settle in on the couch with a giant blanket that covers you whole. 

When it comes to picking a movie, you find yourselves at a crossroads because you share very not-so-similar interests.

“Just put on what you want,” you say.

“No,” he retorts, “That defeats the purpose of a movie night.”

“But I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“As long as I have ya in my arms, I can never be unhappy.”

He makes you blush with his comment and you cave, putting on a movie from your watchlist. It’s a new one, something Netflix just put out. A rom-com. Michael is not a fan, but he settles in next to you anyway, pulling you into his chest.

The blanket lies over you both as the intro of the movie starts, and fatigue instantly settles over you. His hand cradles your head close to his heart, his other arms draped around you. He’s your rock, quite literally. 

You cling to him, your body succumbing to the exhaustion of the day and the mental turmoil you have been in the days before. It all falls off your shoulders in his arms and you find yourself gradually sinking deeper into the pits of sleep before you can even taste the buttery popcorn he prepared.

His fingers move along your scalp, massaging the skin, and that’s the moment when you begin to clock out completely. Your eyes roll back. You lose yourself in his touch and his gentle whispers in your ear, the stupid comments he makes about the movie you can barely pay attention to, and your eyes flutter closed.

Looking down, Michael notices that you have drifted off to sleep. A small smile forms on his lips. As he’s turning off the tv and adjusting you so he can carry you to bed, the sudden movement startles you.

“I’m awake,” you slur, your eyes open, but your mind still asleep.

“Shh,” he cradles your head and places you back on his chest, “I’m just movin’ ya to bed,” he says. “Go back to sleep, love. There ya go. Good girl.”

You close your eyes again, your consciousness slipping once more. 

Michael lifts you up and gently takes you to bed. Tucking you in with the same loving touch he's always had, he makes sure you're comfortable first before even thinking about himself. You nestle into the softness of the blankets, his warmth still lingering on your skin. As he pulls away, you instinctively reach out, afraid he might slip away if you don't keep him close to you.

He climbs into bed next to you, and as soon as he's next to you, your body curls into his. “Don’t go,” you murmur. “Stay.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer as your bodies mold together, fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces. “Always,” he whispers. His lips find your forehead. “I'm right here.” 

And he won’t be going anywhere, that much he promises. 

Tagging for this Series: @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms

[preciouslandmermaid]

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - Part 7

Note: I want to say, again, thank you to everyone supporting and showing love for this fic and these (points) dumb main characters. Stan Ted for clear skin.

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Comfort, Talking about death/Mikey’s death. (cw: mentions of suicide). 

Synopsis: Jimmy offers you a favor, but it feels more like you’re helping him out rather than the other way around. However, a wedding is incomplete without the wedding cake, and you cannot afford to say no.

Lake Michigan is haunted by more than a few ghosts for you and Carmy.

(Read on Ao3)  /// (Masterpost)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked into the kitchen from the back delivery door to see Ted dancing to a remix of a pop song. On the front of his navy t-shirt was ‘Cookie Rookie’ in white cursive with a little half-eaten cookie on the curve of the final ‘e.’

“Ted.” You stifled your laughter. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Making a TikTok for the bakery.”

You stared at him for several, quiet and stupefied seconds. “Jesus Christ,” You said emphatically before shaking your head in disbelief and walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks ago, your incredible success at the Spring Festival garnered thousands and thousands of new followers on the Cookie Rookie’s social media. Even Chicago 6 News scheduled an interview for next week: a mere three days before your opening.

It wasn’t a surprise that Jimmy heard about your triumphs.

The surprise came in the form of him asking you to provide the wedding cake for his brother-in-law.

Jimmy said. “But I’m not paying you, alright? This is exposure.”

You cradled the phone into your shoulder while writing a check to pay those who built a custom neon-sign with your bakery’s name. “I can’t help but feel like we have plenty of exposure. Don’t you follow us on Instagram?”

“No, I don’t follow you Instagram!” Jimmy quipped, “I’m not sixteen years old.”

You clicked your tongue. “Fair.”

“It’s not even a big wedding. It’ll be an easy job.”

“Again, you’re asking for free labor.” You pressed. “I am paying my people even though we’re not open yet.”

“That sounds fucking counter-intuitive.”

You shrugged. “I’ve got the funds for it.”

Technically, the money within your grandfather’s account was meant to be used as a safety net in case anything went wrong after opening. However, you were confident that your opening weekend would payback those funds two-fold. You hired Leslie, Ted, and Dani and they deserved to get paid even if they were only coming in on their own time to practice their bakes.

“Fine.” He huffed. “I’ll pay you.”

You gave him your rate and wrote down the specifications for the cake itself onto your planner.

“When’s the wedding?” You asked before lifting your cup of coffee to your lips.

Jimmy answered, “Tomorrow.”

You spat coffee onto your open planner and coughed. Your eyes watered and you wiped your mouth with your fingers. Tomorrow?! Was he insane? You cleaned the warm coffee off your desk with a tissue. Unfortunately, it quickly soaked through the thin material, and you were left with coffee-stained fingers and damp paperwork. Many weddings were planned months in advance with multiple taste tests of the cake depending on the finicky nature of the wedding couple. You never heard of anyone getting a three-tiered wedding cake for an elopement.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, dude.”

“I’ll double your going rate.” He offered. “Look, I wasn’t going to say anything, but it’s a shotgun wedding, okay? The soon-to-be newlyweds aren’t picky. Just make a halfway decent wedding cake so it convinces her relatives they had this whole thing planned.”

Jimmy wanted you to make a wedding cake just to save his brother-in-law’s ass from getting into trouble with his girlfriend’s family. He would pay you double and grant your bakery additional attention. There was a chance this wedding was going to be messy as hell. You had no other choice but to answer—

“Alright, yeah. We’ll do it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You made the icing for the cake and improved upon your own recipe. It was the same white frosting with a hint of sharp lemon that Carmy tried all those weeks ago. You bit down on your smile while spreading it across the cakes with a steady hand. Ted piped a gorgeous array of white roses along entirety of the bottom tier. Dani decorated the top layer with sugar pearls and arranged them, so the pearls spilled from the top layer and onto the middle. It was simple, elegant, and tasted delicious.

You folded your arms over your chest and admired your combined efforts.

Ted clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Not bad.”

“Nope.” You smiled. “Not bad at all.” You snapped a picture and sent it to Carmy. His response arrived while you were driving to the wedding.

‘Who’s getting married?’

‘Jimmy’s brother-in-law.’

You climbed out of the passenger seat when his reply buzzed inside your pocket.

‘Richie assumes he burned our invitations.’

You smiled and quickly typed back, ‘A travesty.’

You and your bakers transported the cake out of the car and to the display table underneath the large, white tent pavilion. Jimmy shook your hand, grateful and relieved, and palmed you wad of cash. You tucked it surreptitiously into your pocket.

“Stick around, kid. Have a glass of wine.” Jimmy made an annoyed face, “Lord knows I’m gonna need one.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. You didn’t particularly enjoy weddings. But, you would have a front seat to any of the drama if you stayed. You walked to the edge of the tent and looked out at the gray waters of Lake Michigan that stirred with a gentle breeze. Your throat prickled and you roughly swallowed it back.

You were small and following your grandfathers’ back. He turned to look at you, smiling, his large palm soft and solid in your little hand. The sunlight beamed across his profile and burned the rest of the memory into white, blinding, glorious light.

Dani said, “Jefe?”

You flinched and quickly wiped a single rogue tear with your fingertips before turning to her. “Yes?”

Her warm, brown eyes narrowed. “Are we staying?”

“Sure!” You sniffed, then nodded, “Take advantage of the open bar, yeah?”

Ted beamed behind Dani’s shoulder, “Say no more, Boss!”

Dani lingered by your side for a second longer before walking away and you were glad for it. Any gentle word or touch at this point would crush you. You wrapped your arms around your middle and hide your face toward the sparkling lake. Nothing changes. Your fingertips dug into your upper arms and the slight pressure grounded you. Crying about it changes nothing. Let’s not lose our cool during our first gig. You squeezed your arms a little harder and tucked away those sweet, summer memories before everything in your life shattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You lost track of how many glasses of champagne you drank before they finally cut the cake. Dani wept, though you weren’t sure if it was because of The Wedding or The Wedding Cake. Ted had gotten no less than three women’s numbers and you were convinced that Leslie would go home with one of the bridesmaids. Your emotions teetered on a knife’s edge, and it was through remarkable self-control that you managed to not call Carmy for sex. You were a paragon of virtue. A saint. You had nerves of steel and a heart carved from ice.

Or so you told yourself while half-stumbling onto the empty, sandy beaches beside the wedding tent. The cool air bit your flushed skin. Can paragons and saints hallucinate? You wondered as you clutched the neck of an open champagne bottle.

“Carmy?” You said with soft uncertainty. The person standing on the beach had a Carmy-shape. The right height, you thought, and his jacket looked familiar. Your grip loosened on the champagne when he faced you. His eyes shadowed and hidden by a nondescript baseball cap. You felt strangely disappointed to not see them in their full tender and tired glory. He didn’t say anything, though you noticed his hands slide into the pockets of his coat.

You lifted your eyebrows. “Surprise?”

That got a reaction out of him. “W-what?”

“Last time we saw each other, you said I always show up and surprise you.” You explained with a vague gesture while holding the champagne. You brought the bottle to your lips and the bubbles fizzed up your nose—you sputtered and then laughed. Carmy pulled off his baseball cap and held the brim between his hands.

His words were so gently muttered that you almost didn’t hear them, “You do.” He looked past you and toward the fairy-lit tent filled with drunk Polish guests. “How’d it go?”

You beamed with pride burning hot inside your chest, “Fantastic.” An idea struck you like lightening.

“Wait! You can try it!” You grabbed Carmy’s hand and tugged him purposefully toward the tent. The sand wafted around your feet, catching on your pants, and into your socks. The fairy lights adorning the tent swirled like fireflies in your vision. Your heart sputtered, nervous and alive, at the solid and warm grip of Carmy’s fingers trapped within yours. The loud voice in your head that often screamed ‘what are you doing?’ was blessedly quiet.

His fingers twitched, but he didn’t pull away. “I don’t think Jimmy wants me crashing his brother-in-law’s wedding.”

You rolled your eyes, “Relax. I’ll hide you behind something and steal us a plate.”

“Foolproof.” He deadpanned and you grinned over your shoulder at him. You weren’t sure why Carmy was being pessimistic about your amazing plan. You released his hand near the side entrance of the pavilion beside a fake potted palm plant.

“I’ll be right back. I promise.” You said with severity and a furrowed brow. Carmy’s mouth thinned, but you didn’t wait to see if he smiled. You weaved through drunken wedding guests, passing white balloons and golden glitter, and stopped with a triumphant grin at the cake table. You set your champagne bottle down and replaced it with a plate carrying two pieces of your wedding cake. You shoved two clean forks into your back pocket and walked with urgency back to Carmy.

A small part of you feared you’d walk through the plastic flap and find empty air and sandy, receding footsteps. He had no reason to stick around and follow along with your silly, not-quite-sober idea. Your heart found a home inside your throat. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he was gone. It would just be…a bummer.

Your breath exhaled in surprised, earnest relief when you stepped from the drunken noise and found him standing with his hands in his pockets. The myriad of twinkling lights reflected in his pupils and revealed a tiny, fleeting galaxy of undiscovered constellations. The flap closed behind you and the light returned to a muted, soft white.

You held the paper plate aloft with both hands, “Ta-da!”

Carmy smiled, fragile and quick, but your heart swelled with the sight of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You asked Carmy to hold the plate while you took off your shoes. You walked into the sand, sneakers dangling from your fingertips, with your other hand curled around his bicep to steady yourself. Neither of you spoke as you walked aimlessly before sitting down together. Your shoulders bumped together because your bodies couldn’t resist colliding like meteors. What did it mean when you moved in sync with someone? What about when you could hold a conversation through a look? You sighed and the sound rattled and loosened something heavy stuck in your ribs.

Carmy accepted the fork from your pocket and stabbed a piece onto the tines. You pillowed your chin on your clasped hands. This was different from the first time. You were hungrier, you realized, for his feedback. You had eaten his food and seen him work. You knew you improved, but it mattered that Carmy knew that as well.

His eyebrows raised. Your heart thumped. He blinked a few times, nodding, then finally lifted his eyes to meet yours. The world stopped spinning. Your blood rushed in your ears. Carmy’s coat was rough and scratchy from where it met yours. You shifted and your knee touched the side of his thigh.

“It’s fire.” He took another bite, “It’s really, really good. Damn.”

Shock registered on your face first, then melted like candle wax into sweet, soft joy.

You knocked his fork out of the way with your own, “I got two pieces, you know.” You teased with a dark look.

Carmy shook his head, bemused, and pulled the plate out of your easy reach, “You said you wanted me to try it.”

You laughed with incredulity. “And you have!” You glared at him, “That doesn’t mean you get to eat it all.”

His expression softened. The false, playful anger in your gut dimmed. His eyes were warm with amusement, long eyelashes kissing his cheekbones, a smudge of frosting on the corner of his mouth.

He looked at you expectantly with an edge of challenge in his jaw and said, “Yeah?”

Your stomach fluttered. You were drunk on inexpensive champagne and buried memories of your grandfather and cool, fragrant air and Carmy. His eyes, his tattooed hands, his imperceptible smiles, and wan laugh and you were hopelessly mystified.

It was a miracle you could string a sentence together, “Yes, Carmy—now share before I knock it into the sand.” You heard Carmy exhale shortly through his nose—his almost laugh. The sound of it was more intoxicating than any glass of champagne.

“Please.” You added as an afterthought.

He lowered the plate back between you and replied, “Only because you asked nicely.”

You took a wonderfully large bite of cake and smiled. You were so goodman proud of yourself. You hoped your grandfather would be proud of you. Your heart squeezed and memories leaked from their boxes. They spilled over your fingers like black ink, filling the lines and grooves your palms, reminding you of their impossible permanence and fluidity.

You faced the dark, gray waters of Lake Michigan beneath a dusky-blue sky and the truth loosened from your soul with ease. “Generally, I’m not a fan of weddings. I think they’re bullshit, but this one was OK even if their location is shit.”

In your peripheral, you saw Carmy’s face turned toward yours, and heard the faint smile in his voice, “what do you have against Lake Michigan?”

A lump lodged itself in your throat and your voice cracked around it. “I - I used to come here with my grandad when I was small…”

Hot tears prickled your eyelids and you managed to blink them away. “Before mom and dad split and she moved us away.”

“And it’s stupid, right? I know it’s stupid. To even think about any of that when I should be networking with the wedding guests. But I – I can’t. I can’t talk to them about Fourth of July cupcakes and birthdays or whatever other bullshit while standing in a place that meant so much to us.” You paused, “that still means so much to me.”  

You suddenly tore your eyes away from the hypotonic dark waters, “Fuck, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just drop that all on you. Shit.”

You contemplated diving headfirst into the lake and swimming to Canada before you embarrassed yourself further.

“N-no, no.” He muttered your name. “I get it. OK. I do.”

“I don’t know if you – um – knew this or not. But, the Beef belonged to my brother, Mikey, and uh…he died a few months back and left it to me.” Carmy sniffed. “Actually, uh, saying he died doesn’t exactly cut it.”

There was a flare of unmistakable anger to his tone. Your gaze lifted sharply from the plate and fell upon Carmy’s agonized expression. It was as if sorrow and anger were at war with one another and trapped within a stalemate. His brow crinkled and his eyes stared, unfocused, toward the sand.

“He was an addict, which I didn’t know about, and he – uh – he killed himself. He shot himself.” He said and you flinched at his brusque tone. “We used to come to Lake Michigan all the time, you know? As kids. Especially when things were good with my mom.”

Cake icing stuck to the roof of your mouth and the usual response of ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ laid bitter and heavy on your tongue. The world glistened and blurred. You ducked your face away from Carmy’s to brush away the tears with your knuckles. You could imagine the burden on his shoulders. A burden similar yet dissimilar to your own. Your grandad lived a long, successful life and died of old age. He left you his legacy, polished as it was, just like Mikey left Carmy his. A wild, foolish part of you wished you could lessen the weight on his spine and ease the suffering on his face. It was impossible, of course. You couldn’t rescue Carmy from his own grief anymore than he could rescue you from yours.

But at least on this night below stars and ghosts – you weren’t alone.

He sighed. “So, yeah. I get it.”

You lowered your head onto his shoulder without saying anything else. You knew it was the champagne making you sleepy and melancholy, but that didn’t stop you from grazing your fingertips across the warm, exposed skin of Carmy’s wrist. You realized it wasn’t only Lake Michigan that harbored memories for him. The entire city of Chicago served as a reminder, and you wondered how Carmy survived without breaking down at every intersection.

He turned his palm upward. You slid your fingers between his and squeezed gently, though his fingers remained extended and did not curl inward toward yours. You sat in front of Lake Michigan, with a plate of wedding cake on your lap, beside a beautiful boy who terrified and thrilled you in equal parts.

“Hey Carmy?”

“Hm?”

You asked quietly, “Are we friends?”

He snorted lightly. “Y-yeah, I think so.” You heard him swallow. “I never had a lot of time for friends in New York.”

“Or here.” Something in his tone inspired you to raise your head from his shoulder. Whatever resolve you built against Carmy crumpled fast and sweet like cotton candy on your tongue. There was no use fighting it any longer. You wanted to know him. You were tired of denying yourself what you wanted.

You searched his face and knit your brow, “What do you mean?”

“I was a shy kid. I mean, Mikey was my best friend. At least, I thought he was until I realized he was everyone’s best friend, you know? That’s just who he was. He had – uh – this magnetic personality.” He said, gesturing with his hand, “and I don’t know—I got to New York, and everything got quieter, and I was focused, and I was determined, and Mikey cut me out of his life, and I cut people out of mine and I – yeah – I just didn’t…”

He licked his lips, then frowned. “I didn’t really try to make friends, I guess.”

You smiled tenderly. “You sound like me.”

The blue in his eyes flooded with warmth when he looked at you, “Were you anti-social or just highly competitive?”

You cast your gaze heavenward to the brilliant, dark sky with a rueful smile. “I wanted to be perfect.” You said.

“I thought it would make life easier if I wasn’t influenced by peer pressure. I avoided making friends, or socializing at all really, until Grandpa intervened. He made me get my shit together.”

Your laughter rasped wetly within your throat.

“I mean he really made me get it together. Mom was busy working and rebuilding her life, and Dad ran off with his perfect, secret family. I didn’t smoke at the time or drink, so I coped in other ways, and he—it sounds so lame, but he saw me.”

You whispered, “He was the only one who saw me.”

This was why you needed to make him proud. It was why you needed to be successful, competent, and perfect. You owed him. You needed to pay him back for those years of unwavering support. You never would’ve gone to college, never would’ve pursued this life, if you hadn’t spent your summers with him. He was – in many ways – a father to you.

You explained all of that to Carmy in a hurried, panicked tone before the tears started to fall. The words had spilled out of you like someone twisted a valve inside your brain.

You were usually better at this. You talked about your grandfather all the time to his old associates and business-friends. Except those people never asked about your childhood, or your memories of him, or the gray hole in your life that existed in his absence. None of those people could understand the depth of the loss you endured.

“Goddamnit!” You shouted, wiping your cheeks stained with evidence of your grief, “You can’t tell anyone you saw me cry.”

“Who would I tell?” He nudged your shoulder with his and his fingers finally enclosed around yours, “I have one friend, remember?”

“Hm.” You hummed around the fork tines with another bite of cake. “Good point.”

“What about Richie?” You asked.

“He’s a family friend.”

“Not your friend, though?”

Carmy shook his head, “I mean - I don’t know. I think he wants me to go back to New York.”

“Will you?”

A line formed between Carmy’s brows. “What?”

“Go back to New York.” You selfishly hoped he would stay no matter what happened. If you had enough time, then you could pursue something honest with Carmy. It could be solid, and tangible, and Good. And yes, it would likely end with your heart being broken, but at least the middle and beginning would be fun. You were cynical when it came to romance, or relationships, or God forbid--love. But openly talking about your rawest wounds in front of Carmy altered your perspective. Maybe a relationship was just finding someone who made you feel brave.

He stopped looking at the pavilion over your shoulder and met your eyes, “No.”

You bit back your smile.

Together, you finished the two slices of cake in silence with your forks occasionally clashing with a soft metallic ‘ping.’ You set the plate aside with a rock on the surface to stop it from flying off in the wind. You thought of his brother, his loneliness in New York and in Chicago, and the beast of burden in the shape of a struggling restaurant. You thought about your past and uncertain future. Carmy continued to hold your hand, calloused and warm, and you didn’t want this evening to end.

You asked the singular question weighing on your mind.

“Why do you think Mikey left you the restaurant?”

Carmy replied, “To fuck with me.”

The wind stirred your hair and it caught against your nose and lips. “You think so?”

“Shit.” He sighed heavily. “I – I don’t know. I have no fucking clue he was thinking. I wish I did. I wish I knew anything about him.”

Your heart splintered at his defeated, angry tone. You wished grief was physical, like a blanket, that you could remove from his shoulders. You wanted to do more for him beyond listening. You wanted to chase that hurt, angry look from his eyes with a broom and demand it never return.

“Tell me something you did know.” You said gently, “Something easy. Like…uh…I don’t know? His shoe size?”

Carmy snorted and leveled you with a disbelieving, flat look. He removed his hand from your grasp and pulled his cigarettes from his coat pocket. You waited while he lit up and admired the shadows flickering across Carmy’s face. The champagne no longer lingered in your veins. The bubbly, giddy feeling had only one culprit and it was the person beside you. He inhaled, exhaled smoke through his nostrils, and wordlessly held the cigarette out to you.

Sharing a cigarette was as close as you’d get to kissing him.

“Mikey was…” He licked his lips. “He was loud, and funny, and—he—he’d walk into a room, and he’d light it up, you know?”

You passed the cigarette back with a faint smile. You suspected his relationship to Mikey was a complicated one and you wouldn’t untangle it over the span of a single cigarette.

“He taught me how to ride a bike. Sugar—Natalie—I mean, my sister, too.” Carmy threaded his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what that says about him.”

“Sometimes, it’s less about what the memory says and more about how it makes you feel.” You shrugged. In your eyes, you thought Mikey must have a decent amount of patience and resolve to teach his younger siblings to ride a bike. Patience and determination were two traits that worked well within the restaurant business.

The cigarette dangled from his lips, and he shook his head slightly, before pressing his fingers to his mouth, and pulling it away. The vapor seeped through his teeth. Carmy’s expression was perturbed but he didn’t elaborate or share his thoughts. His eyes shined glassy and distant. Perhaps taking a walk down memory lane wasn’t what he needed right now. No worries.

You snatched the cigarette out from his fingers and the act startled him. You smiled with smoke unfurling in front of your eyes and distorting Carmy’s features.

“Come on.” You clambered to your feet and gripped onto Carmy’s muscled shoulder as you slid your sneakers back onto your feet. “My ass is getting cold sitting out here. Do you wanna take the L together?”

“What about the wedding?”

You scoffed, flicking cigarette ash onto the sand, “Jimmy didn’t pay us to stick around and help clean up.”

You reached down for him and wiggled your fingers, “The offer will expire in ten seconds.” You opened your mouth to start the countdown, but Carmy grabbed your hand, and you pulled him to his feet. He let you go immediately, and you chose to not think about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy watched the reflection of you in the glass across from his seat. You were half-asleep on his shoulder, your head nodding with the train’s movement, and your lips slightly parted. He hadn’t expected his night to take this type of turn after leaving the Al-Anon meeting. You had stood before him in the sand, your cheeks flushed and eyes dark, and Carmy convinced himself he was dreaming before you spoke. You were always surprising him - literally and figuratively.

He swallowed tightly at the memory of your tearful expression. He would never understand Mikey. He would never figure out his motivations, or decode his ciphers, but he was starting to understand you. You threw yourself into everything with passionate, courageous fervor. You hated when someone saw you cry. You chased perfection. You idolized your grandfather. You were forthright, and proud, and quick with dark, teasing looks and clever grins. You were a stubborn know-it-all and perpetually charming.

The intercom announced the next stop and you stirred. “Hmph. Carmy?”

He blinked down at you. “Hm?”

“It’s all real with you.” You muttered sleepily into his shoulder. “I can’t compartmentalize for shit when you’re around.”

His lungs expanded with a deep, full inhale. He reached out and tucked away a piece of your hair that fell into your face. His heart tripped with an uneven tempo. The train slowed, pistons hissing, and doors sliding opening beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. He knew your stop was next and loathed the idea of saying goodnight. He would ride this train, up and down the river forever, if it meant he could stay next to you.

He cleared his throat and said, “Your stop is next.”

“Ugh.” You grumbled, “Fuck off. I know.”

You sat up, leaning forward, and he missed the weight of your head on his shoulder the minute it was gone. You scrubbed your hands over your face, taking your phone out, responding to text messages with a bleary-eyed expression. His hands twitched in his lap. He wanted to settle his palm between your shoulder blades. He wasn’t a complete idiot. Normal people didn’t have urges like this about their friends. Maybe it was a side-effect of sleeping together but he didn’t know.

“You’re – um - you’re good to walk home, right?” He inquired carefully. He imagined where you lived and assumed it was better than his depressing apartment.

You nodded and glanced over your shoulder, “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.”

He shrugged and aimed his tone for nonchalance, “What are friends for?”

You twisted your torso toward him, careful delight illuminated your eyes, “Did you really think our cake was good?”

“I thought it was better than just ‘good’.” He clarified, “I thought it was ‘fire’ which is the highest compliment a chef can give to another.”

You answering smile set his inexperienced, aching heart overdrive. The train slowed, its announcement crackling over the speakers, and you swayed when you stood. He caught the sleeve of your coat with his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes flickered down to his hand before meeting his gaze, quiet and cautious. A heartbeat echoed between you. He had few, precious seconds before you were gone, and he’d never guess when you might turn up again. You were across the street, yet it felt like you were a hundred miles away.

You said, “Night, Carm.”

“Don’t – um – don’t be a stranger, alright? You can - you can stop by anytime.” He swallowed nervously, releasing your coat, and scratching his forehead with his thumb nail. “Richie hasn’t shut up about you since you catered Eva’s party.”

“Please remind him that wasn’t me. That was Delilah.”

“Yeah, well, maybe he just wants to take Delilah out on a date or something.” Carmy guessed with a shrug.

It was a paltry excuse. Richie didn’t really talk about you that much beyond his joking quips and annoying assumptions. Carmy wanted you to come by regardless of the reason. He wanted to have another smoke break with you. He wanted to know more about your life, your past, hell - everything. Desire filled his chest, hot and bright and close to bursting. If only willpower alone could stop the train doors from opening.

“I can make that happen.” You pursed your lips. “She’s single.”

The doors slid open with a hiss. He exhaled your name in farewell. You stepped off the train onto the concrete platform. Carmy’s knee bounced in his seat. He leaned back, eyes toward the steel ceiling, and gleaming bars.

‘He’s the only one who saw me.’ He set his jaw in remembrance and was unable to shake the feeling that he felt the same way about Mikey. His older brother had been his best friend, his guardian, and his hero—the person who saw him—until he stopped looking. And no matter what he did, no matter the accolades, and the praise, Mikey never looked at him again. Never told him he was proud, or impressed, or that he was sorry for the years of silence. He sniffled, his tears sharp and prickly against his eyelids. He pinched the upper bridge of his nose and pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes.

He kept it together until he crossed the threshold to his apartment. The door slammed. His heart split. Carmy leaned his back against the door and sank to the floor with his hands covering his face. He wasn’t embarrassed to cry in the privacy and safety of his shitty apartment. His throat ached, his eyes burned, and twin rivers of snot trailed onto his mouth. For a long moment there was no other sound in the small hallway beyond his ragged, hiccupped breathing.

Until his phone vibrated in his pocket. He cleared his eyes with his fingertips. An overwhelming sense of anxiety and concern consumed him before he looked at his phone. What if the message was related to The Beef? What if someone was quitting? What if it was worse than that?

Your name glowed in blue-light on the screen.

‘What kind of coffee do you like?’

He pressed his lips together, blinking away the last of his tears, and slowly typed a response; ‘All of it.’

‘Heard.’ You said, followed by, ‘I expect nothing less from an insomniac.’

Despite the hollow, painful ache of missing his brother, Carmy laughed – a brief, dry sound. He clutched his phone between his fingers like al lifeline. An electric, unseen tether to you, and to the sense of grounding that you gave him.

‘Who said I was an insomniac?’

‘No one! I can sense these things.’ A short delay before the next message came through, ‘It takes one to know one, I guess.’

He got to his feet with a quiet grunt and peeled his jacket from his shoulders. He knew he needed to shower, but it would have to wait until tomorrow. He didn’t have the energy for it no matter how simple it seemed. He rinsed his mouth with mouthwash at the kitchen sink and collapsed onto the couch with a soulful, long exhale. He stared at his open text and every quiet, doubtful thought came rushing into his head with a bloodthirsty vengeance.

You deserved better. The more he understood you, the more you let him in, the more certain he was of that fact. He couldn’t and shouldn’t drag you into the shitshow of his life and all its barbed wire. He was a mess. You deserved someone functional, healed, and experienced. His time at Noma, or the French Laundry, didn’t mean shit compared to everything he didn’t know when it came to relationships – platonic or otherwise. He felt like he was bumbling through the dark, stepping on glass, and knocking over fine China.

The worst part was knowing that Mikey would know what to say to him. He’d have a quip, or some anecdote, or gravely spoken advice. Carmy set his phone facedown onto the coffee table without replying and turned his television on to Pasta Grannies.

His dreams were filled with tickertape, and smoke, and the curve of your profile just out of view.

(Part 8 )

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Three years ago today I found an article that talked about a new song written by a boy newer to the punk scene. He was young and rambunctious and saying things he deeply believed with his whole being. I hadn't liked new musicians in... Over a decade probably. I was stuck in my ways and just seeing a headline about 'I wrote this while watching Green Day's BIAB' made me almost annoyed. I remember rolling my eyes and thinking- 'yeah sure, I'll see about that.'

I was more depressed than I realized. My health was declining and I had been through a lot in the years before. I was just hitting my 30s and the world was terrifying. I never left my house from anxiety and barely left my bed. I don't talk about it much but after my health went extra bad I was so scared of my heart problems I barely spoke out loud for a year. I didn't even listen to music anymore really, I didn't feel things the way I had as a teenager but I thought I'd test it out just to see. Why not make jokes to myself about how sad the state of pop punk was becoming?

Well if you can't guess, that song was Strawberry Lipstick and that rambunctious boy was Dom. To say that night changed my life is a fucking understatement. I was hooked automatically. I was desperate for more and I spent the next few days diving into everything I could find from and about him. I fell in love with him, with the way he loved us, with his energy and his honesty and the way he gave his all. He opened my eyes to others I'd fall in love with too. He reminded me of my love for music and reintroduced me to myself. I don't always know what I believe in but I truly believe the universe wanted me to find him that night.

I made a Tumblr (my old one) just for him and made friends for the first time in years. I reached out to the world because of Dom and the BHC (and later EST) reached back. Of course I've been hurt and I still have trouble but I wouldn't be who and where I am today without that man. I've watched him grow and flourish and with him so have I. Because of Dom I finally came out to myself and my family. Because of Dom I'm not scared to say I'm trans.

Since that day I've lost some of my old and new friends, not everyone stays and that's okay. Since that day I've changed and grown and hurt and healed and loved. I finally have a diagnosis for what's wrong with me which I wouldn't have felt strong enough to push for without finding Dom. I wouldn't have felt brave enough to keep asking, I wouldn't have felt brave enough to try working at one point, I wouldn't have felt brave enough to put myself out there with art or writing. Without Dom I wouldn't be me. I can never thank him enough. Ever.

So maybe I go overboard celebrating his birthday but that's because I'm not just celebrating his birth, I'm celebrating myself. I started living again because of this man so in a way it's my day as well (though my actual birthday in the 8th so it's almost a special few day holiday for me!) Happy birthday Dominic and happy anniversary to my love for him 🖤

Sending love to you all today and every day because you're all incredible! 🫀

[smokeybrandreviews]

Festival Season

I am a massive fan of MegaTen games. I love everything about them; the battle systems, characters, and overall world. I fell in love with the summoning and fusion systems of these games almost immediately and longed for other franchises to do something similar. It was basically Digimon Fusion before Digimon was a thing. Who wouldn’t want to Lego two Pokemon into a goddamn MewTwo? The missus introduced me to this brave new world with the purchase of Digital Devil Saga so long ago. It was one of the first gifts I ever got her. Watching her play that sh*t really awakened something within me. It was like watching my kid brother playing Final Fantasy IX for the first time but with, you know, violent monstrosities. Way back then, during the golden age of the JRPG, on the PS2, we made it a point to play all of the obscure titles. Nippon Ichi and Atlus were our bread and butter. We had copies of Stella Deus, every DIsgaea available, and even Soul Nomad. No one talks about Soul Nomad. One day, she came home with Persona 3. On that list was Persona 3 vanilla. Bro, after we booted it up and those first few notes of Burn My Dread popped, I was hooked. I must have put three hundred hours into that game. I conquered everything I could in that game, romanced every option, and completed one hundred percent of that sh*t. I unlocked every Persona on just two runs and readily did it again when FES released. The Answer was kind if disappointing but I didn’t mind running through the enhanced world of P3 once again. And then I did it one more time when P3P dropped, though, admittedly, Portable is my least favorite of the lot. Persona 3 opened my eyes to a world of RPGs beyond just your Final Fantasys and Dragon Warriors. Because I enjoyed this one game so much, I was open to trying out others. I wouldn’t have touched Magna Carta if not for Persona. I would have missed out on Rogue Galaxy. Wouldn’t have given Shining Force EXA a second thought. If I had never played Persona 3, I would have never played 4 or 5, and that sh*t seems so bewildering to me because those games are some of my all-time favorites. In fact, for a long while, Persona 5 was my favorite of these games. I wrote a whole thing about, about how, while I loved 3, 5 was a close second. It had legitimately closed that gap after Royal dropped but then Persona 3 Reload was announced. Guess who pulled ahead once again.

I got Reload day one and immediately dove into to. It felt familiar, yet, new. It definitely got all the bells and whistles that made Persona 5 so enjoyable but was still definitely Persona 3. I got my copy for the PS4 so, while the presentation is loads better than the original, and it shows, it’s comparable to Persona 5. Having that “side-by-side” experience just solidifies that P3 IS my favorite Persona title and one of my all-time favorite games, period. I was a little bummed Burn My Dread wasn’t the opening song but Full Moon Full ain’t too shabby on its own. More than that, the quality of life changes are amazing. It’s the little things like the Online Saves or the fact you don't get fatigued in Tartarus anymore. I love how the original character designs got a remix, bringing them closer in line with that Persona 5 aesthetic, and boy do they steal from that P5 aesthetic let me tell you! The thing is, though, it feels full circle to me. I remember, way back when I was playing P5 (shout out to Tae Takemi, best girl in the entire game), that P5 feels like the spiritual successor to P3 in every way P4 is not. Don’t get me wrong, P4 is a classic, but it feels out of place in the trio, almost disconnected. Also, I remember hating Teddy. It’s like, did P3 influence P5, only to have that sh*t bleed back into Reload? I don’t know, and I don’t really care. I get to play Persona 3, on my PS4, with the look of Persona 5. I cannot stress how dope that is. Also, Satanael is DLC. You KNOW I bought due and have been decimating the early game! Thanatos is my second favorite Persona, always, Alice is the first (especially after I customize her), but Ren’s ultimate Persona is a strong third. Like, laughably so. There’s just something about summoning a Demon God that feels so…powerful. Also, you shoot God in the face. How can you not love that?

I’m ten hours into Reload and it is everything I ever dreamed  a full-on Persona 3 remake should be. This isn’t that bait and switch FFVII pulled with Remake. No, for all intents and purposes, this IS Persona 3 but with modern game play and graphics. It’s like I’m popping ion the game for the very first time, damn near twenty years later. The Protagonist is as stoic as ever and the city of Tatsumi Port Island is alive with a vibrancy only the power of PS4 could bring. Building this game on the Unreal engine was a stroke of genius because the models are crisp, detailed, and fluid. There are so many little particle effects that make everything pop. The biggest upgrade is the UI. The thing is, I’m old as f*ck. I’ve been gaming since the old NES days. I’ve seen the evolution of video game and, for me, they peaked way back in the PS3 era. When P3 originally came out, I had no problem with how the title was presented. It got a little flashier with P3P and Persona 4 added their own flair, but Persona 5 really went in on the showmanship. P3R gets a bit of that and it goes a very long way to captivating the player. I thought modern hardware would affect the charm of these OG designs, but it doesn’t. It actually enhances them considerably. It’s subtle, but the bodies are longer, the eyes are smaller, and the overall proportions feel more realistic. I kind of love it. I also love the redesigns, so far. I mean, Mitsuru is gorgeous and I adore the new-ish Elizabeth model, but I’m holding judgment until the very end when I get to see Nyx again. And definitely get my ass throttled by her. Now, admittedly, not all that shimmers is gold. The fact that the Answer, the additional part of FES, isn’t included in what is a very obvious FES remake, kind of bones. I hear that it will be DLC down the line and that sucks. I like Metis. Her design was dope. I’m also not that huge a fan of Thanatos’ first reveal being made with in-game models. The visceral nature of that genesis feels lost when not in animation. It’s good in its own way but, goddamn, did that sh*t hit different way back when. These are, of course, superficial gripes because I am having the time of my life with this game! And it’s only the first play through. That New Game is about to slap crazy hard! I cannot wait to run it back with my heavy hitters on deck. Satanael be damned, getting Thanatos and my laughably OP Alice in the mix is going to be the best!