#as promised!! two fics before bed HA!

[roosterr]

Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol

the 141 when you have amnesia – p2

note: i have received your therapy bills :)

wc: 5.2k

warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise

ao3

[part one]

price

✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.

✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.

✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.

✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.

✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.

✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.

✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.

✹ the base is dull without you.

✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.

✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.

✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.

✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.

✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.

✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.

✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.

✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.

✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.

✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"

✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.

✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.

✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.

✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.

✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.

✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.

✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.

✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.

✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.

✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.

✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,

✹ "i remember you now."

✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.

✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.

✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.

✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.

✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."

✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"

gaz

✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.

✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.

✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.

✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.

✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.

✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.

✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.

✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.

✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?

✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.

✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.

✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.

✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.

✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 

✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.

✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.

✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.

✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.

✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.

✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.

✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.

✹ "i'm not really paying attention."

✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.

✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."

✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"

✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.

✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.

✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.

✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.

✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"

✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"

✹ "just piss off, you prick!"

✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.

✹ "what's wrong? are you–"

✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.

✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.

✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.

✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,

✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"

✹ "you read my mind."

soap

✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.

✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.

✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.

✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.

✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.

✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.

✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.

✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.

✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.

✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.

✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"

✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"

✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"

✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"

✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.

✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.

✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.

✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.

✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.

✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.

✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.

✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.

✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."

✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"

✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"

✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."

✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.

✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.

✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.

✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.

✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.

✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.

✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.

✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.

✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."

✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."

✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.

✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.

✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"

✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.

✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.

✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.

✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.

✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.

✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"

✹ "i'll never forget you again."

ghost

✹ he avoids you like the plague.

✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.

✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.

✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.

✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.

✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.

✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.

✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.

✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"

✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.

✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"

✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.

✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."

✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.

✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.

✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.

✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.

✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.

✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.

✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.

✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.

✹ "i remember, si."

✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.

✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.

✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.

✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"

✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."

#captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #141 x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #roosterr writes

[mmeskywalker]

|| new years and blooming hearts

summary: you’re in pansy’s dorm getting ready to go to the slytherin new year’s eve party. only, you’re a hufflepuff… you arrive to the party and the tension between you and THEODORE NOTT is palpable; so palpable in fact that matteo and enzo decide to help a brother out (by making theodore so insanely jealous that he arrived to his breaking point.) through breathless laughter, cold stares and tough crowds, you find yourself by theo, oddly enough during the countdown til midnight.

word count: 6.6k+

a/n: this is lowercase intended. i just wanted to write about theodore nott/lorenzo zurzolo because he has me in a chokehold. also, i read a fic with a similar concept to this but i can’t find it. if anyone knows which fic i’m referring to, please tag the creator in the comments.

- please imagine theodore with an italian accent, thanks!!! 😓

warnings: italian!theo. jealous!theo. angsty. friends to lovers. slowburn. oblivious reader and theo (they’re both clearly in love). love confession. tension. heavy kissing. pansy x blaise.

6:00P.M.

“okay… so what i’m hearing is that you hate me and want me to die.” you flinched at the dress pansy held to your body, your nose twitching as you dramatically gagged.

it was yellow with black stripes, reminding you of the bee movie you had previously watched with her and your friends in the slytherin common room.

pansy was cackling beside you; her hair hanging low in her face as loud snorts tumbled from her nose. “no—no you have to hear me out,” she cackled. “it’s perfect! it’ll match your house and everything, baby.”

“you know what else is perfect?” your lips twitched into a malice smile.

“what?” she was still laughing, hardly able to contain herself as she ran her fingers through her hair.

grabbing your wand, you pointed it toward the dress. “evanesco!” you quickly shouted, a smirk now adorning your lips as the fabric disappeared from her grasp.

“you’re no fun,” she pouted, her laughter ceasing before giggles bubbled right back up again. “i’ll tell you what, i think i do have a dress for you to wear. trust me?” she asked, still giggling as she cocked her head to the side.

“i don’t know…” you teased, “are you going to pull out another bumblebee catastrophe?”

“no, i promise.” she interlocked her pinky with yours, the laughter finally dying down.

after a moment, you sat on her bed, your head leaning against the headboard as you waited for her to find what she was looking for in the mess she called ‘closet’.

your fingers danced around your wand, attempting to spin it around your unskilled grasp—only for it to end up dropping to your side. you blew out a stream of tense air. “have you found it yet?” you impatiently wailed.

“hold on,” she replied, annoyed.

after holding on for what felt like half an hour — two minutes max — she found the dress she was looking for

and it was beautiful.

it was a black dress with spaghetti straps that would clearly hug your body; long, plain, but gorgeous; just what you wanted.

“pans, it’s perfect.” you said, excitement rushing through your veins before it pained back down. well shit, you thought as your heart practically pounded in your chest.

tonight was the slytherin house party hosted to celebrate the new year. you’re a hufflepuff, a hufflepuff that managed to befriend the group of slytherin that everyone wanted but couldn’t become friends with. you knew most of the slytherin house disliked you, but your friends were feared, nobody dared to say too much about you to your face.

how sweet of them, you thought.

“yeah, it’s nothing special, but paired with a few gold accessories and your pretty face it’s going to look great!” pansy set the dress on the blanket beside you, her hands smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles before meeting your gaze. “woah— hey what’s wrong?” she asked.

“uh,” you stuttered, looking toward the dress once, twice, before making eye contact with her again. “nothing’s— wrong?” you said, clearly trying to convince yourself of that matter rather than her.

you weren’t too emotional, always being able to hold a strong ground, but you had your days; like most hufflepuff. you guessed that today was one of those days.

great.

“baby, what’s wrong?” pansy asked again, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “you know i’d never seriously make fun of you, right? you can talk to me,” she laughed softly, looking at you with an understanding gaze.

“it’s stupid.” you muttered, a smile creeping on your face despite the heavy turmoil in your chest. “i don’t even know if i should be going to this party… i don’t belong there.”

pansys brows furrowed. “whose making you feel like you don’t belong there?” she was upset, that of which you could tell.

“uh, everyone?” you responded as if it were as plain as day. “well, not you and our friends of course… but everyone else. they so-obviously don’t want me at their party, and i understand that; i mean, i’m a hufflepuff.”

pansy rolled her eyes. “screw them,” she said. “i want you there. matteo wants you there, enzo, draco, and blaise, all want you there.” her eyes glistened in the dim candlelighting, squinting as she drawled out her last sentence with an undeniable tease, “theo wants you there.”

pansy has known about your little crush on theo for years. it started in third year, when he began calling you that nickname you’ve just recently learned the meaning to: soffio.

it meant puff; a simple word that referred to your house, but it made your heart flutter.

he gave you that nickname

and it meant the world to you.

however, your delusions were just delusions. he didn’t know how much that name meant to you because he made it out of ridicule; a teasing ridicule, but ridicule at that.

“whatever,” you rolled you eyes, your thumb brushing away the singular tear rolling down your flushed cheek.

pansy smiled, getting out of bed, grabbing your hands to pull you off of the mattress as well. “you’re coming tonight,” she sing-songed. “and you don’t have a choice.”

7:30P.M.

"are you ready yet?!" pansy yelled against the bathroom door, pounding on it as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

your eyes shifted down the length of your body.

the dress looked just as good on as you imagined it would in your head, and if you were being honest, you're more-so holding her up to stare at yourself a little longer.

cocky, but whatever because you felt and looked amazing.

“one second!” you shouted, fluffing your hair up softly to make it look as if you ‘rolled out of bed’ in a perfect, flawless type way.

you could hear the sarcasm dripping from her tone as she counted, “one,” but you had already opened the door.

she looked stunning as well, wearing a long-sleeved, dark green dress with three gold rings forming a line down her slightly exposed chest.

“pansy, baby, you look so freaking pretty!” you squealed, your hands intertwined with hers mid-air as you both grinned at each other like overly-excited school girls. “me? oh my gosh, what about you?!” she said, her hands moving to your shoulders and rocking you gently as her eyes glistened. “you look so, so gorgeous, y/n!!!”

“i think theo’s going to have a mannerism,” she teased and you rolled your eyes.

“whatever,” you giggled.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰ 🤍 ꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

8:00P.M.

two hundred slytherin and one hufflepuff,

two hundred slytherin and one hufflepuff,

two hundred slytherin and one hufflepuff,

but you’re only focused on six of them.

the six you felt safest around:

pansy parkinson (duh),

matteo riddle,

lorenzo berkshire,

(somehow) draco malfoy,

blaise zabini,

and theodore nott.

obviously, you didn’t walk in unnoticed.

matteo immediately sat up from the couch, making his way over to you as he watched you walk in with pansy. “funny seeing you here,” he teased, “how’s my favorite hufflepuff doing?” his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in closer to kiss the top of your head.

“yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes, laughing as you pushed him away. “and i’m okay, a little nervous, but i’m all good. y’know?”

“nervous?” matteo asked, cocking a brow.

you shot him a look and he quickly understood. “ah, no need to worry about them.” he promised, “they’ll be dealt with if they do anything.”

your forehead wrinkled slightly as you shot him a weary smile. “thanks.” you replied coolly, noticeably unsure of his intentions.

from across the room, theo’s eyes lit up, his frown transforming into a soft, bright smile as he made his way through the thick crowd to get to you. “soffio, you’re here.” his lips brushed against your hair, his arms wrapped around your head, pulling your cheek flat against his chest.

his italian accent was thick and heavy, harder to understand as his voice muffled into the depths of your hair, but you still felt a blush crawl over your flesh.

“theo—“ you muttered, your voice just as muffled as he pulled you even closer, one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other threaded through your hair, “i thought you weren’t going to show up, bella, i was worried,” he then whispered.

matteo shot him a look.

“theo you’re crushing me!” you giggled, your hands crawling up his chest to create a little distance between the two of you.

his large hand gently caressed your cheek; four fingers stroking your jaw as his thumb lingered in its original place, now smiling as he pulled away. “mi dispiace,” he whispered before turning his attention to the friend making his way over.

"i'm surprised you showed up," blaise drawled, leaning against the wall with an amused smirk. "thought you'd run the other way once you heard who all was coming." despite his words, there was warmth in his gaze as it met yours, a spark of admiration glinting in their depths.

“oh, shut up,” pansy hit his side, rolling her eyes. “if you scare her away i’ll beat your ass,” she then whispered, eyes squinting as she playfully bit down on her words.

“relax, ma.” he chuckled, his hands falling to her hips, squeezing them gently as he leaned down to kiss her, “let’s go get a drink, yeah?”

“and that’s my cue to leave,” pansy playfully hit your thigh, shooting a quick glance to theo as if she knew something you didn’t, “don’t do too much without me.”

you shivered as you watched her walk away, your mind racing at what she could have meant; knowing her, it could be anything.

draco entered the room then, scanning the gathering with a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. he hesitated when he spotted you surrounded by the others, finally shrugging as if it wouldn't bother him either way before striding over. "y/l/n," he greeted coolly, shooting a smug look at matteo and theodore. "happy almost new year."

you wrinkled your nose at draco, a playful challenge lighting up in your eyes. "happy almost new year to you too, malfoy."

lorenzo approached last, his gaze taking in the group with a slow appraisal before he settled on you. there was something unreadable lurking behind his dark eyes, a mixture of surprise and a slight hint of desire. "quite the turnout," he murmured.

weird, you thought.

"aye, quite the turnout," matteo replied, chuckling softly as he placed a hand on lorenzo's shoulder. there was a brief moment of tension between them as they glanced toward you and theo, a silent understanding passing between the two of them before both men simply let it slide.

what seemed to you as theo ignoring their odd behavior, he turned to face everyone, clapping his hands together. "ah," he grinned, his voice full of mirth. "glad you decide to join us, lorenzo." theo patted his side.

lorenzo grinned, patting theo’s side in return, “wouldn’t wanna be here with anyone else.” he replied before looking toward the brunette woman he felt eyeing him down. “except maybe her,” he then smirked.

you heard matteo sigh, muttering a series of curse words as draco snickered beside him.

“whore,” draco spoke as if his commentary were a compliment, but lorenzo was too busy undressing the girl with his eyes to notice.

“well go up to her,” you groaned, rolling your eyes teasingly as you pushed him away from the circle. “don’t be a puss; drinking her up from afar is an unattractive trait, berkshire.”

he stumbled, his palms brushing down his white suit before glancing over at matteo. then, he turned around to wink at you playfully. “oh, you’re in for it later,” he chuckled. “wish me luck, love.”

‘good luck,’ you mouthed as he began to walk toward the girl, the tension in the room shifting.

theo scowled at lorenzo, three fingers rubbing against his thumb as matteo teasingly brushed the italian’s side. “chill,” he whispered, a shady smile playing on his lips.

“do not tell me to chill,” theo’s voice rose. “i am chill, no need to tell me to chill if i am already.”

your brows furrowed slightly, confused as to why theo snapped so suddenly. “everything okay?” you asked, your thumb rubbing soothing circles against his bicep before he blew out a sigh.

“yes, soffio,” he shakily assured, finding the hand you placed on his bicep, sliding it into his palm, and kissing your knuckles gently. “i’m— i’m okay.”

matteo grinned brightly as an idea struck his mind. “alcohol, anyone?”

8:30P.M.

you were trying not to spill your drink as you made your way back through the crowd. yeah, you were wearing a black dress, so you guessed that a stain wouldn’t really matter… but you still hated the feeling of wet fabric against your skin.

“ow,” you muttered as you bumped into matteo’s chest. don’t worry, you did not spill your beverage.

you were about to apologize until you noticed lorenzo standing beside him, now turning to stand behind you. your brows furrowed to the bridge of your nose. staring at them intensely, you asked, “uh, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“we’re going to help you out, girlfriend,” matteo smirked, his eyes a dangerous game, his tone slithering directly into one ear then finding its way out the next.

“like i said,” you scowled. “uh, what?”

“do you want a new years kiss or not?” lorenzo asked, his palm finding your waist to keep you steady as you tried to walk away.

you slapped his hand. “not from you, berkshire.” you spat.

“obviously not from me, idiot.” he rolled his eyes. “from theodore.”

your eyes lit.

matteo cocked his brow, “there might be one before new years though if he doesn’t crack.”

this time, you did spill your drink—a little of the liquid dripping from the rim of your cup as your hand jerked forward. “what are you talking about, matty?” your voice dripped with disgust as you then slapped lorenzo’s hand away from your waist, “and let go of me.”

“do you like theodore or not?” matteo asked, clearly annoyed.

“none of the bullshit either, sweetheart.” lorenzo dragged. “everyone can tell you’re crazy about the guy, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.”

“you know what they say…new year, new confessions.” matteo cocked a brow, waiting for you to come clean.

you huffed, the need to correct him strong as you rolled your eyes. “they don’t say that,” you said, but you were now looking toward the ground… “okayyesiliketheo,” you muttered.

“what was that?” lorenzo asked, a teasing smile apparent on his lips. “one more time for me, love?”

“yes; merlin, yes, okay! i like theo,” you bit in a faint yet deadly whisper. “what do you want from me? a cookie?”

matteo smirked, looking around before taking a step closer to you, “atta girl.” he said, “enzo and i’ve been thinking,” - “not a good sign.” - “girl, shut up. we were thinking and we know a way to get theo to confess his feelings.”

before you could ask how, you felt lorenzo’s proximity come closer as well. “he’s protective over you, that we all know.”

you couldn’t necessarily see enzo roll his eyes, but you could hear the eye roll in his tone.

“we’re going to make him jealous.” matteo added.

lorenzo nodded, “precisely.”

he stumbled, his palms brushing down his white suit before glancing over at matteo. then, he turned around to wink at you playfully. "oh, you're in for it later," he chuckled. "wish me luck, love."

'good luck, you mouthed.

“see, you were playing along before you even realized.” matteo nudged your shoulder playfully and you finally laughed, easing up a bit.

“you really think this is going to work?” you asked, a little unsure of the whole situation.

to that, lorenzo scoffed. “i know it’s going to work.” he stated. “darling, theo is head over heels for you; you’re all he talks about. let’s just consider this to be theo’s wake up call.”

9:00P.M.

you’re now wineless.

you downed three cup-fulls of the substance to take your mind off the fact you’re sitting on lorenzo berkshire’s lap at a party; a guy you’ve always thought of as a brother.

“i’m sorry.” he whispered against the side of your head, “i know how uncomfortable this may be for you.”

“not uncomfortable,” you responded, your head now resting against his shoulder, and that was the truth. you weren’t uncomfortable, “this is just different.”

he nodded, his gaze lingering on theo’s hand as he watched his knuckles turn white around a glass. “somebodies getting angry,” enzo chuckled. theo never contemplated anything when it came to you, must be the italian in him well, except maybe when it came to confessing his feelings. you watched as he began to walk toward the two of you. “prepare yourself, love.” enzo then warned.

“lorenzo,” theodore smiled, a forced smile, one that laid heavy on his chest. “how about you come on a walk with me, yeah? i want to speak with you privately.”

his eyes found yours—they were heavy and disappointed. your heart sank further, but you only held onto lorenzo a little tighter.

“woah, heyyy, what’s going on here?” matteo quickly intervened, gently patting theo on the back as he looked at you and lorenzo. “i didn’t know you two were a thing!” matteo sounded astonished, his mouth dropping as he chuckled. “theo, buddy, isn’t this wonderful news?”

the scowl on theodore’s face was apparent as he muttered, “considerati fortunata, puttana,” (consider yourself lucky, whore.) under his breath, but he quickly nodded. “yeah, such great and—wonderful news, mio amico.”

“you think?” lorenzo smirked, giving your waist a gentle squeeze before kissing your neck, cheekily staring at theodore as your hand entangled into his brunette hair.

theodore’s eyes darkened as he sipped his alcohol, an angry noise bubbling from his throat. “yep.” he bit, “it’s fucking wonderful.”

“now that’s good sportsmanship.” matteo rubbed theo’s back before continuing. “hey! i have an idea. why don’t we go dancing? how does that sound, lovebirds!”

you slid off lorenzo’s lap and he was quick to follow suite, his arm sliding around your hipbone, pressing your back against his chest. he had to be strongly willed because the way theodore’s gaze burned through his skull wasn’t easy to ignore.

at least you couldn’t ignore it.

it made you sick to your stomach.

theo set his glass on the table. “you do that—i’m going for a smoke.”

9:30P.M.

theo didn’t go outside to smoke.

instead, he was leaned against a wall, a cigarette planted between his parted lips as his eyes stuck to yours like glue; watching you dance against lorenzo rather than him.

you decided not to make eye contact with theodore because if you did you’d end up stopping the plan right then and there.

“enzo,” you muttered, your gaze struggling to stay on the ground as his chin rested on your head, swaying to the music with his hands on your waist. “hmm?” he hummed.

“could you, um,” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering to theodore’s and immediately regretting it. “turn me around.”

he nodded, his gaze now facing theodore’s pained one as you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck to comfort yourself. in return, he gave you a squeeze. “i know how hard this is for you, love,” he whispered, “but trust me, it’s going to be worth it.”

“are you sure?” you asked, your mind beginning to race. “because he hasn’t done anything other than stare. i mean, who stares at the person they supposedly have a crush on as they dance with your best friend?…oh my merlin,” you muttered, reality hitting you. “i’m dancing with his best friend.”

you tried to back away but lorenzo’s grip tightened around you, “y/n.”

“i’m going to hell,” you continued. “this is it for me. i’m literally the worst person alive. hell. that’s my future. h. e. double hockey stic—“

enzo squeezed your hips, signaling that he’s about to kiss you. “now?!” you shouted in an angry whisper. lorenzo nodded, his eyes darting toward theodore’s again, watching as he began to make his way over.

“now.” he confirmed and your stomach backflipped.

a hand came to your cheek, lorenzo’s thumb covering your mouth as he kissed that rather than you; to the unassuming eye, the kiss was passionate, stomach hurling curling.

any girl would die to kiss lorenzo berkshire; slytherin’s number one heart throb.

just not you.

but boy did you put on a show.

theodore stopped in his tracks, his hand reaching forward as a communication indicator but falling back to his side in defeat. he turned back around.

good thing you didn’t see that because you would’ve chased after him, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him passionately; not his fucking best friend.

10:30P.M.

you were comfortable dancing with lorenzo when theodore’s eyes weren’t burning through the two of you; laughing as his hands ghosted over your hips, dancing to the music as friends rather than ‘lovers’.

you almost forgot about the whole plan.

“thought that she… was with theo.” a slytherin you didn’t recognize commented.

“must be a pass around.” another smirked, and your heart sank even further.

you stepped away from lorenzo, emotions stirring as you made eye contact with the group talking about you.

their commentary came to an end as you watched matteo approach them in your peripheral vision. you didn’t hear much bickering after that, but regardless, your vision began to blur.

looking around, you noticed everyone staring at you, and you took another step back.

“hey— hey!” lorenzo was close to you again.

“what?” you bit. “this whole thing, this whole plan is stupid and i want to stop.”

“y/n.” he chuckled, looking around awkwardly, trying to place his arms around you waist but you smacked him hard in the chest, sending him slightly backward.

a small gasp tumbled from his parted lips.

you didn’t shout, but your voice graveled as you continued to walk into him. “i’m.” you hit him again. “not.” again. “doing.” again. “this.” and again. “anymore!”

but his arms stayed around you.

“i want to stop!” you were crying now, going limp against his chest as your throat burned. “please, please let me stop, enz… please.”

enzo drug a hand to your lower back, doing what he knew he needed to do. “don’t worry. i’ll go find pansy.” he whispered before kissing your temple.

10:45P.M.

“pans,” you cried, your mascara staining your cheeks as you burried yourself in her arms. “this was a mistake—i shouldn’t have agreed to their stupid plan.”

“hey,” she whispered, her fingers gently massaging your scalp. “we’ve all fallen for their antics before, don’t blame yourself too badly, honeybee.”

you shot her a look and she cocked her head, smiling empathetically, “not the time?”

“i’ll tell you what,” she whispered again, casting a small spell to rid the mascara from your cheeks before pulling your shoulders back to look you in the eye. “don’t leave. give it until midnight like planned, and if it goes wrong…” pansy took her phone out, a recording of both matteo and lorenzo stopping you earlier to explain the plan playing on screen.

she then smirked, “i’ll show him this.”

“when did you take that?” you asked, your fingers trailing down the length of the phone before looking at her skeptically; eyes still swollen.

her gaze shifted toward the ground, “let’s just say i was um… in on the whole thing…”

“don’t worry, though.” she says, brushing the final tear on your cheek away with the base of her thumb as she smiled. “they came to me so things wouldn’t get all fucked up… they care about you y/n, and they care about theodore, they don’t want to ruin this thing you have with him, okay?”

you nod, and she hugs you one last time before you have to go and find lorenzo.

11:00P.M.

“you seem tense, y/l/n,” draco found you before you found lorenzo.

his gaze drifted toward theodore, who was currently yelling at matteo—who was currently yelling at matteo. draco’s eye widened, astonished at the sight laid before him, “and i think i know why.”

“no, no, no, fuck!” you shouted, about to run toward them before the pair of hands you’d become so acquainted with today found your waist a-fucking-gain.

“do not.” enzo spat. “just be patient.”

draco raised his brows, clearly not even wanting to know as he silently left the scene.

“he’s going to kill him!” you shouted, struggling in his grasp, “let. me. GO.”

enzo rolled his eyes, “has anyone ever told you that you’re a stubborn little asshole?”

you paused for a moment. “hm, yes,” you nodded. now let me go.”

he held on tighter.

11:15P.M.

“no, no , no,” theodore’s fingers ran through his hair, “what is he doing to her, matteo? he shouldn’t be dancing with her like—like that! she’s a lady!”

theodore wasn’t yelling at matteo, his movements made it look as if he were upset, but he wasn’t. well… not at matteo at least.

matteo, being such a good friend, was letting theodore rant to him about how much he valued you and your friendship.

otherwise known as: matteo wanted to milk theo to his breaking point.

“dancing with her like what?” matteo asked, staring at you and lorenzo as he swayed and rocked his hips against yours. “seems to me like they’re having a little fun, if you know what i mean.” he winked playfully.

“jokester.” theodore drawled, pushing his shoulder. “i don’t like seeing her with him.”

matteo cocked his brow, “yeah and why’s that, buddy?” his head tilted to the side, “are you… jealous?”

theo looked astounded, immediately shaking his head in denial. “no, of course not.” he said, his cheeks turning a brighter shade of red as his anger grew palpable. “but she shouldn’t be here with that imbecille.”

“here we go again,” matteo rolled his eyes, groaning. “you never think anyone is right for her, dude. you have to give it a break.”

“a break,” theo threw his hand flat out in front of him, his forearm horizontal against his stomach. he drew it out, creating an invisible line. “she disserves someone that respects her, not a man like lorenzo.”

becoming harder to contain himself, matteo raised a brow at theo. "you mean deserves?” he grinned, continuing to drawl, “and who says he isn't the one for her?"

theo appeared as if he were on the verge of snapping. that caused matteo to chuckle, clasping his hands together as he grinned. “aw, what’s wrong, theo?” he playfully pouted, “you don’t like seeing them together? you poor, poor thing,” he puffed his lips. “guess you can’t do anything about it now.”

theo's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched as he glared at matteo. "this isn’t right," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "that boy is not good for her, and you know it."

matteo raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping back from theo. "whoa, whoa, calm down, buddy," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "i’m just messing with you. I know you care about her, but you can't control who she chooses to be with."

theo's gaze never left matteo, but he slowly relaxed his posture, his anger simmering down. "don’t mess with me right now, matteo," he warned, his voice still tense. "this is y/n we’re talking about; that boy will corrupt her!”

matteo shrugged, a smirk still playing on his lips. "maybe she likes the bad boys," he teased, gesturing toward you and lorenzo. "maybe she's into a little danger and excitement."

theo scoffed, muttering a curse under his breath. matteo raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to his friend, his tone becoming serious.

“you love her, buddy.” he said softly, his words filled with gentle understanding, “i know you do; trust me, i’ve seen the way you’ve looked at her since first year. just talk to her.”

the moment stretched thinly between them, theo's face twisting with an agonizing mix of emotions. things became tense, and both men glanced over to where you and lorenzo danced in the distance.

“i need a drink,” theo muttered.

11:30P.M.

“this sucks,” you groaned, looking at lorenzo only to find that his gaze is back on the brunette girl from earlier. you watched him, rolling your eyes before taking that chance to slip away.

music blared throughout the common room, it was upbeat and happy, but your focus drifted toward the window as you sat on the ledge.

you could feel the weather seeping through the glass, a gentle coldness caressing your cheeks as you took a deep breath in.

you sighed heavily, rubbing your temples with your fingertips, trying to clear your thoughts as you stared out into the misty night. winter breezes blew through the open windows, accompanied by the distant sounds of laughter resounding from behind you, but for some reason, you couldn't enjoy yourself.

a part of you longed to rejoin the festivities, while another wished for escape entirely. lost in thought, time seemed to blur until suddenly, draco’s voice startled you from your own thoughts.

"i wasn't aware the fireplace emitted such an enticing scent." he commented dryly, leaning casually against the window frame beside you. "or did you just need another excuse to avoid lorenzo back there?"

you repeated, "an excuse," you blew out a string of air, turning to look at draco with a raised eyebrow. "or maybe i just needed a break from the chaos."

draco smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "chaos?" he echoed, leaning back against the window frame. "i thought you enjoyed these kinds of gatherings."

you shrugged, looking back out into the night. "sometimes," you admitted, "but not when i'm stuck in the middle of a bunch of drama."

draco's smirk faded slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. "don’t be too hard on yourself, y/l/n," he said softly, his tone more serious now. "you're just trying to figure things out, like the rest of us."

you hesitated, biting your lip as you considered his words; words that you never thought you’d hear from him. "maybe," you murmured, glancing back at him. "but it's hard when everyone else seems to have it all figured out."

draco's gaze softened, and he reached out to gently take your hand in his. "we all have our moments, y/n," hemumbled. "don't fall through to others. just focus on what makes you happy."

his eyes flicked toward the party, a hint of sympathy in his gaze. "trust me, even the most confident among us struggle on occasion. and that includes myself." he added, smirk reappearing briefly.

you sighed, examining his hand holding yours, his grip firm yet comforting.

"it's hard to believe sometimes," your fingers curled around his, returning the pressure. "everything's getting complicated."

"maybe," draco mused, "and that's alright. life would be boring without consequences and complications." he smiled, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes.

for the first time, you felt a pang of pity for him- not because he was malfoy, but because he was human.

draco’s eyes drew over yours, then they glanced toward theodore who was cocking his head in your direction. the boy seemed to follow you everywhere, not letting you get too far when anyone approached you.

“i better get out of here before your real boyfriend starts to think i want any trouble,” draco chuckled.

you looked up at him, "what?" he waved, his brows angled in an amused position as he grinned. "i'll see you later," he chuckled.

you hesitated, your gaze flickering between draco and theo, who was still watching you from afar. you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for this whole evening.

"yeah, see you later," you murmured, pulling your hand away from draco's and standing up.

draco nodded, his smirk never wavering. "don't let theo get too jealous now," he teased before turning and disappearing back into the party.

you watched draco walk away, a mix of amusement and confusion playing on your face. you couldn't help but feel a little flustered by his teasing, but you also couldn't deny that he had a point.

11:45P.M.

you looked up at the clock, contemplating on whether or not to just go back to your dorm. you were tired of pretending, and it wasn’t like enzo was coming back to you anytime soon. he had that girl pressed against the wall, his lips violently sucking the sweet spot under her jaw, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“fifteen minutes til new years,” an overhead announced, “head outside for the firework show, or don’t, whatever!”

their voice was cocky, but it caused you to finally crack a smile as you headed toward the door. you weren’t going to mope, but you also weren’t going to bother your friends who were clearly busy with their lovers or one-night stands.

the music was still loud outside, blaring messages from her by sabrina claudio through the speakers as you stood by a fountain.

sitting on the ledge, you watched the water, the stillness of it causing you to relax.

somewhere behind you, you heard footsteps crunching on gravel and snow. slowly, you turned to see theodore walking toward you hunched down into his coat.

his eyes met yours and a sympathetic look crossed his features. "i couldn't stay away," he whispered, further approaching until he was sitting on the ledge next to you.

though it pained you, you smiled at him, wanting to say a million things but you voice falling flat as he shifted around nervously.

“you must be freezing,” he then commented, pretending to just now notice your spaghetti strapped dress as he slid out of his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders and carefully draping it over yours.

"thank you, theo." you murmured, wrapping the familiar fabric of his jacket around you, the scent of him clinging to it.

theo glanced away, his jaw tightening before he spoke again, seeming to collect his thoughts.

"happy new year, soffio," he said cautiously, focusing his attention back on the fountain.

you mirrored his gaze, feeling a tear pool in your eye. your throat burned as you swallowed. "happy new year," you whispered back, hesitating before tentatively reaching out to grasp his hand.

theo's features softened, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "is it true," he asked quietly, casting a quick glance your way, then looking back sharp to the water.

your breathing hitched, swallowing the lump in your throat. "is what true, theo," you whispered, fixing your gaze on his profile.

“you and lorenzo,” he replied, the sentence like poison on his tongue.

you held back a small breath, shaking your head vigorously. "no," you managed after a heavy exhale.

"then why did you leave me to be with him earlier?" theo questioned stiffly, his own whisper evaporating in the chilled air. you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.

his grip on your hand tightened, though you didn't pull away.

"it's not like that," you mumbled, struggling with your emotions. "it’s complicated..."

your voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding your judgement.

“so tell me, y/n!” theodore’s voice rose, now holding both of your hands, turning you to look him in the eye. “devi dirmelo. (you have to tell me) i can’t take it— i need you to tell me what’s going on between you and lorenzo. is- is he or is he not your lover?”

you watched his eyes plead with you, the desperation washing away some of your fear and anxiety. “it wasn’t real,” you stammered, your voice just as loud. “none of it; the kiss, the dancing, the whole relationship.”

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself for the conversation that was about to unfold. "okay?” you shakily muttered, meeting his gaze. "that whole thing was to get us together."

theo's eyes widened, his grip on your hands loosening slightly. "what?" he whispered, clearly taken aback by your confession.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "i know it sounds crazy, but i wanted to be with you, theo. they told me this would make you ask me out—” you cringed at your sentence, “if you don’t believe me pansy has the whole video."

your voice trembled, and you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "i'm sorry, i never meant to hurt you."

theo stared at you for a long moment, his expression a mix of shock, confusion, and hurt. "why would you do that, soffio?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “make me jealous so i’d get with you? bella…”

your eyes welled up with unshed tears, your voice catching as you spoke. "i was scared," you admitted. "scared that you wouldn't see me the same way, scared to ruin our friendship... scared that you wouldn't-"

a sob echoed from your chest, causing you to falter.

"sorry, i'm so sorry, " you breathed, burying your face into his shoulder.

as the realization washed over theodore's face, his embrace around you tightened. "va tutto bene," (it’s okay) he whispered, a catch in his voice as he stroked your hair repeatedly. "soffio, i have loved you for so long. i despised seeing you with him tonight.”

you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face for truth. "you... you love me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

theo nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity. "always, bella, but i never thought you saw me the same way."

you bit your lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "i'm sorry, theo," you murmured, leaning back into his embrace. "i should have told you sooner."

"it's okay," he reassured you, his arms tightening around you. "we can start fresh now. no more games, no more pretending."

you nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "i'd like that," you whispered, your eyes closing as you rested your head on his shoulder.

the countdown to midnight began over the speakers, the music dying down as people waited for the new year. “come here,” he whispered, a hand placed on your waist, positioning you to straddle his lap as he rested both palms on your hips.

you hesitated for a moment, but then slowly shifted your weight, wrapping your legs around him as he guided you.

“tell me you want this, bella,” he whispered, one palm gently squeezing your hip as the other came to caress your cheek.

with a subtle smile, you leaned in toward him, whispering into his ear. "i want this, theo," you confirmed.

his adam's apple bobbed, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your lower lip. you closed your eyes, feeling his breath tickling against your skin. there was anticipation on his expression, almost palpable.

as the countdown reached zero, the music swelled, and fireworks exploded in the sky, theo’s palms guided your face in anticipation, tasting you the way he’d dreamed of for years as his lips danced softly, gracefully against yours.

you shivered against him, relishing in the warmth of his embrace as your happiness leaked into every corner of your being.

this moment was different, liberating. his touch, intimate, and sincere.

“bella,” he whispered sweetly, resting his forehead against yours, “don’t you try and win my affection again, understood? it’s yours; it always will be yours.”

you laughed, kissing the tip of his nose as you closed your eyes, “okay, okay. i got it.”

his laughter grew with yours, his head falling to your neck as he softly kissed the delicate skin under your ear, “happy new year, soffio.” he then whispered, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

“happy new year, theo.”

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #slytherin #hufflepuff #theo fluff #hogwarts #theodore nott scenarios #theo nott #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagine #lorenzo zurzolo #fanfic #fanfiction

[angelfic]

Howdy! Could I request a Theodore Nott, secret relationship, “don’t leave me… please”. ❤️

here u go!! i actually really like this idea and kind of wanna recycle it for a longer fic maybe.. 🤔 thank u for the request! 💌

theodore nott x reader + secret relationship + “don’t leave me… please”

➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game

You’re stressfully stirring sugar into your tea in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place when Mattheo and Theodore turn up, bruised and bloody in the hands of Alastor Moody.

The Auror had sent a message in advance through his Patronus, alerting members of the Order that he was heading to headquarters with two death eater defectors. An hour of hoping it’s who you think, and three cups of tea later, you breathe a sigh of relief when you realise Mattheo and Theo are alive.

The way Theo is leaning his weight on Mattheo doesn’t slip past you, and as soon as he finds you among the others, you rush forward.

“Hi,” Theo whispers, the greeting reserved only for you despite the numerous others in the dining room. His eyes are drooping slightly as he sways on his feet. Nonetheless, he gives you a weak smile. “I’m okay. I promise.”

You nod slowly, brows furrowed in concern despite his reassurance. Ignoring Moody’s confused stares, along with the whispering happening behind you, you do a quick scan of Mattheo and find that he’s definitely had worse injuries from spontaneous fist fights during your years at Hogwarts.

“Are you okay?” you mouth at him, just in case. He winks at you in answer.

Moody, seemingly snapping out of his confusion, turns to you and raises a brow. “You know these two, then?” he asks gruffly, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.

“We all went to school together,” Dean Thomas pipes up, saving you from having to stumble over your words in an attempt to explain your relationship with Theo.

There’s no doubt in your mind that everyone in the room suspects you and Theo are more than just schoolmates, but you don’t move to address anything. The implications of you being in love with an ex-death eater aside, it’s none of their business. Moody doesn’t quite seem to accept this immediately.

”School,” he mutters, nodding begrudgingly. “And how well do you-”

“Alastor,” McGonagall cuts him off sharply. Peering at him over her spectacles, she purses her lips. “You can get to interrogating them about being Transfiguration partners after they’ve recovered. These boys need a healer. Now.”

“Yes, yes,” Moody replies grumpily, reluctantly letting them go to open the door to the hall. “We’ve got Poppy in the living room. She’ll fix them up, nice and quick.”

You step back to give the two boys space to make their way to the Healer, but Theo catches your hand and grips it tightly. “No. No, Y/N can do it. Just give her some of the medicine, I’m not seeing anyone else.”

You open your mouth to object, wanting Madame Pomfrey to assess him properly, but the pleading in his eyes has you hesitating.

“Don’t leave me…” Theo’s voice becomes lower, quieter and earnest. “Please.”

“Okay,” you exhale, cupping his face with your hand and stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. You look over at Professor McGonagall for confirmation and when she sighs and nods, you respond with a grateful smile before turning back to Theo. “I won’t leave you.”

Mattheo clears his throat, popping the little bubble you and Theo have found yourself in and making you look away, cheeks warm. Walking over to where Moody holds the door open, Mattheo gives you both a knowing look before speaking to the rest of the room. “I guess I‘ll be seeing dear, old Poppy alone then. Nothing she hasn’t fixed before.”

Taking this as your cue to leave, you wrap an arm around Theo’s waist to support him as you make your way out of the room and up the stairs to an empty room. You help him to sit on the bed and disentangle your hand from his, dropping a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I need to go get the stuff from Madame Promfrey, I won’t be a minute-”

“Not yet,” Theo pleads, hooking pinky finger around your own and tugging lightly. “I’m not that injured, just… come here for a second.”

Your resolve crumbles immediately due to not having seen Theo since school ended a month ago, during which he was trying to leave the other side of the war without getting himself killed. You sit next to him on the bed, but he immediately reaches over to manoeuvre you by the waist until your legs are wrapped around him in a straddling position. Theo presses a soft kiss to your lips and the pure love radiating from him makes your heart jump to your throat. When he pulls away, he looks more relaxed and content than he has in months.

“Hi,” he says, a gentle smile playing about his lips while he fingers the hem of your shirt where it sits at your back. Tingles run down your spine where his cold fingers brush against your skin and you end up leaning into his chest even more, causing his smile to deepen. “I missed you, darling.”

“What, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t good company?” you tease, tilting your head. Theo scoffs in disgust, lightly tugging on a lock of your hair and looking at you expectantly. “I missed you too, Theo. So, so much. I’m glad you got out.”

“Me too,” he sighs, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. You both stay in silence for a few minutes and you bask in the warmth of Theo’s breaths fanning over your collarbone. He nestles his face into your neck and seems perfectly happy just to stay there when he speaks. “It was torture staying away, you know. I’m never leaving your side again.”

You run your fingers through Theo’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp and biting back a smile when he lets out a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. “You being glued to me is probably going to make it clear that we’re more than ex-Transfiguration partners, by the way.”

“I bet you anything they all already know,” Theo murmurs distractedly. You frown and sit up straighter to look at him, raising a curious brow in questioning. He looks at you like it’s obvious. “Mattheo is downstairs, unsupervised. If he hasn’t told everyone by now…”

You shake your head, shifting to move off Theo’s lap. A pout forms on his lips, but he reluctantly lets you stand. “I better go do some damage control while I go get the stuff from Pomfrey. Merlin knows what embarrassing things Mattheo is telling them right now.”

“I can think of a few things,” Theo says, his innocent voice contrasting with the devious smirk on his face. “Like the time we were in the Astronomy Tower and you were too loud, so-”

“Right, okay!” you interrupt loudly, screwing your eyes shut in embarrassment as you try your best not to relive that particular memory. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the way Theo is cracking up, you smile sweetly at him. “You haven’t had any injuries to the head, have you?”

“No, love,” he replies, grinning. “Why?”

You grab a pillow and swing it into Theo’s face, knocking him backwards on the bed. Crossing your arms in satisfaction, you falter when he stays laying down and moans in pain.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” you rush out, panicked as you move the pillow out of the way to climb onto the bed and hover over him. Theo cracks his eyes open slightly, his face scrunched up in discomfort and your stomach drops. “Theo, where does it hurt?”

“Here, come closer,” Theo winces, gesturing you forward, closer and closer and you furrow your brows in confusion. When you’re close enough, he snakes his hand around to the nape of your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss, burying his fingers in your hair. You don’t bother admonishing him, your head getting dizzy from the feel of his lips moving against your own. You only pull away when you hear sudden laughter coming from downstairs. Theo doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest when you do. “All better.”

“Not yet, you’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes and sitting up again. You make sure you put all of your weight on the mattress to do so, just in case you actually do end up hurting him. “I’m actually going downstairs now, okay? The idea of Mattheo talking to McGonagall is driving me crazier by the minute.”

“Come back quickly?” he asks lightly, but there’s a hint of pleading in the way his hand circles your wrist. You give him a reassuring smile and another quick peck on the lips.

“Always.”

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #Theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott x y/n #Theodore nott fluff #theodore nott smut #theo nott #Theodore nott imagines

[devotion]

there’s no distance (between you and me); miguel o’hara

☾ pairing: husband!miguel o’hara x fem!spider-woman!reader

☾ synopsis: owing to his heightened senses, miguel finds out that you’re on your period before you do. and with that, he’s more than willing to tend for your needs, whatever they may be. | wc: 2.1k+.

☾ type: fluffy oneshot

☾ warnings: mentions of period and blood (not graphic), nicknames, baby talk, a suggestive ending.

☾ notes: first miguel fic!!! AHH, took me 2 weeks to write after almost 7 months of not writing at all, but i made it! regarding the spanish in this fic, i kept it simple as possible. i did do spanish for 7 years, and have an ear for it (and got an A), but if any spanish speakers out there see anything that needs correcting, feel free to do so <3 also... fluffy requests pls?

the feeling gnaws at your insides, growing as minutes tick by, but also fading every once in a while.

you notice it’s morning by the sunlight peeking through your sleep mask, but way past sunrise as the birds’ chirping and warbling seem to have been replaced wholly by the bustle of nueva york. it’s ten am, probably, and you’re not planning to move an inch yet.

what you’re sensing is undeniably familiar, you realise. eventhough it’s been quite a while you haven’t experienced it, there’s no other explanation as to why your uterus is screaming for you to go to the bathroom.

miguel clicked on way before you could even confirm it though.

a few months, nearing six to be exact, your boyfriend has developed his wits to sense exactly what stage of your cycle you’re in, instinctively becoming second nature. besides your body language doing most of the talking, his ability to smell helps him discover more about you than you do yourself.

you appreciating it is an understatement to say the least. except... except that it’s hard to hide when you’re ovulating.

he shakes the thought.

“amor,” miguel whispers, in an attempt to wake you up. by your heartbeat, however, he knows you’re slipping into and out of consciousness—not too slow and almost at a resting rate.

his eyebrows furrow with one look at your face—kissed by the moon and kissed by him. he’s always up before you are, never wavering to steal that one chance to admire you. as his eyes trail to your fingers hanging from the edge of the bed, back to every feature and detail on your face, a deep chuckle escapes him; he simply couldn’t put into words how much he’s in love with you. the awe he has in your beauty resurfaces, the way you have glitter for skin, the way he can get to call you his.

at that, he’s not willing to disturb your rest, but he must, just so he can cater for you like he should.

“baby...” miguel nudges your arm the slightest, lips meeting with your forehead. a kiss, two kisses, three. “nena, porfa... wake up.”

“no,” you dismiss.

“you need to. estás en tú periodo, mi amor.”

finally, your eyes are met with his. and that’s when your eyebrows knit together, all your emotions and feelings align to fit with the facts.

“want me to get you up?”

your hand lazily raises to him, in which he responds swiftly to, bracing you in his arms to take you to the bathroom. as soon as he sets you down in front of the sink, it takes him seven seconds at most to grab a few stuff you’ll be needing: pads, a hot water bottle, paracetamol and water.

“how did the kettle heat the water so quickly?”

“tomé café.”

“oh,” you nod, sighing and seating yourself down. hugging the hot water bottle close to your tummy gives you mild relief, giving you a chance to breathe with much less struggle. by the look of your face, however, miguel knows that you’re drained. he senses it. so, he kneels in front, both of his hands on your knees, and promises, “estoy aquí... estoy aquí.”

“yo sé, cariño.”

“need anything else?” he asks, opening the pad packet and placing it in the fresh underwear he had bought you last week.

shaking your head, you pout at him.

his head tilts to the side, eyes smiling at you before he plants a kiss on your lips, lingering.

it’s later on in the day where miguel finds himself back at hq in the monitor room, his work making him busy when he really, really doesn’t want it to. the anomalies keep on appearing out of nowhere, and his plans to keep everything in the right structure always seem frail until the last moment. it sends him to an overdrive, especially with the fact that he’s been preoccupied with the thought of you and how you’re still having to be in the other room, in pain, but lyla insists that the team needs you.

he clenches his fist when she reiterates the same answer to his question again, making the best effort to hide the scowl that forms on his face. after eight trips in the portal today already, he’s in the dire need to head out for a break.

meanwhile, you’re in the other room, sat on a large table in a good distance between gwen and hobie. pavitr, peter b., and jess are also present, having stuffed yourselves with pizza and trash for lunch.

food gets you lost in a world of your own, and you’ve just happily eaten to your heart’s content. yet the usual quiet after everyone has eaten suffuses the room, with them doing their own thing. but all you’re doing is staring blankly into space, foot rubbing on to the other mindlessly as if to distract you from your discomfort.

peter b. has already got some milk heating on the stove. an odd request from you, he thinks, since it’s summer and mid-day, but obliges regardless—for all those times you’ve babysat mayday, this is just a small favour.

gwen notices your restlessness, eyes narrowing at you before she asks in a hushed tone, “hey, you okay?”

you shake your head. the cramps increase twofold now you’re aware of it somehow, and it has your teeth grinding.

“i feel you,” she reveals, her cadence sympathetic before coming close to whisper in your ear, “twinning!” you muster up the energy to turn your head towards her, sending her an inquisitive look. she nods, “mine was worse in the morning.”

“mine started then.”

a few moments pass, small chatter picking up between all of you. gwen advances towards you with her chair in tow, her head leaning onto your shoulder as she begins to rub your lower back. the peace inevitably—of course, how you knew—is interrupted with the door slamming back, revealing a frowning miguel.

eyes closed, you bite back a smile at your husband. a le gusta la atención.

he stops in his tracks towards the fridge. all eyes are on him when he takes a deep inhale, as if to smell something. he comments, “there’s pizza.”

it takes a moment of silence before hobie snorts, head cocking towards miles so that he could chuck the box at miguel for him to catch. miles explains, “tu mujer saved it.”

miguel squints his eyes at him. “¿qué?”

“i’m working on it!”

he glances at you, pupils scarlet, before turning his back, the slight waft of chocolate powder invading his senses as he proceeds to devour the pizza. that’s when he makes his way to where peter b. and mayday are, intending to continue to finish preparing the hot chocolate for you. surely it’s for you only; from everyone in this room, you and mayday are the sole people who enjoy cocoa, and nobody but you would choose to have it after lunch.

a friendly smile from peter greets miguel as he sees him approaching, but is brushed aside. second pizza down, now on his third, miguel moves to get the aerosol whipped cream from the refrigerator, and then the marshmallows, to which peter guesses that he’s probably helping him.

peter, loving to state the obvious, starts, “oh, y/n had told me to make her—”

“—i’ll do it.”

taken aback, peter gives him a dirty look, mayday mirroring him at an instant. it takes a lot of courage from miguel to calm down, most specifically at his fourth pizza slice, just so he could turn his head to peter and feign a smile. and that’s all it took for mayday and his dad to move away heartily and grudgeless.

whilst he takes his time crafting your beverage, gwen comes closer, joking to you about miguel, “uh, you think he’s on his period, too?”

shrugging, your nose crinkles as you smile. “i have somewhat of an influence on him.”

“no shit, he managed to let out a smile after being fed with food.”

“that’s miguelito for you.”

“he’s had this period for life,” she snorts.

a cup, full of everything you love and looking as scrumptious as ever, is abruptly set down in front of you.

“all this—” miguel starts, waving a hand between you both, “—slander ‘bout me.” he webs a chair from behind you, grabbing it, and seats himself to your left.

gwen suddenly becomes busy with her phone.

leaning forward, face mere inches from yours, he scans your eyes, mouth, hands—everything—with concern written all over his own features. you’re staring at him back, head leaning onto your shoulder as the slightest wave of fatigue washes over you.

as delicate fine strokes on a portrait, his eyebrows raise at this. and you understand him, but you shake your head anyway.

he asks to confirm, “estás bien?”

“angry, then hungry, now concerned,” gwen notes, “what’s next?”

miguel gives gwen a light scowl, unintentionally at that.

she exclaims, tapping away on her phone, “one little comment!”

“leave hiiim,” you drag out, ending with a giggle. the pad of your thumb reaches out for his chin, grazing over as you feel his warmth under your touch. a few more moments of silence hangs between the two of you like this. “he’s just being sweet.”

evening dawns on you soon enough, work finished and tiring you and your limbs out extensively. dinner was an hour ago, and both you and miguel stand near the bannister situated at the balcony back at home, witnessing tonight’s nightfall.

you’ve been lucky enough for your cramps to have subsided in the past half hour—not that you’ve really noticed, but at least miguel has.

the sun bathes in the sky filled with shades of oranges and reds as it descends ever so slowly—that’s what you’re marvelling at though.

miguel knows best to take every moment he can to admire you, every chance he gets to be in his delicate daydream. all up to the point your pain is disguised by the smallest eyebrow furrow, he’s quick to scurry behind you. and there he stands, encircling your waist before his palms and fingers massaging over your stomach.

a hum of approval from you is sufficient for him to keep going.

purely for the fun of it, you probe, “never asked you these past few months, but is it not making you bloodthirsty at all?”

miguel frowns, waiting a few moments to see if you’ll dismiss the question, but to no avail. he sighs, “in the nicest way possible as i ask this, muñeca, you want me to?”

“does it though?”

“that’s not the kind of blood i go for.”

your head falls back, snug in his chest. you tease hum further, “no doubt it is.”

he grimaces amusingly.

you snort, “i’m joking, i’m joking.”

he shakes his head, lips turning upwards into a smile as you continue to chuckle. a nip at your neck ebbs away your laughter there and then, turning into something more of a tiny squeal.

you scrunch your nose before taking a deep breath as another cramp aches your abdomen. “keep doing that, you’ll make me bleed from two places.”

he winces.

you hear when he does that, muttering, “big baby.”

“i’ll give you ‘baby’,” he returns playfully, a smirk dancing on his lips as he walks away, facing you still, “with all this teasing, you’ll have no period next month the way you’re going.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?”

he shrugs, tapping his temple thereafter. “surely, you own the hq with me, you know so much... just keep on thinking.”

no period.

baby?

baby.

“ain’t no way!”

just roughly two weeks later, as expected, a simple winding-down time takes a turn when your hand travels up his thigh. and miguel is miguel—even with his firm hold around your wrist stopping you from trailing ahead, you bite your lip.

“¿qué pasó?”

you retreat little by little, yet the sparkle in your eyes tells him otherwise, igniting the ever-burning flame within him. you’re far from disapproval the second you’re under him, and lucky enough, his smell confirms it.

entangled limbs and deep kisses later, you pull away, grasping his visage in your hands. it takes you by surprise, the way his eyes glimmer and shine, resembling the colour of cherries.

you manage to confess breathily, “your eyes are so pretty.” angling his head to get a better image of you in the dim light, miguel perceives the cutest smile appearing on your lips. you proceed in a whisper, “can i have them?”

his breathing slows as he takes a brief glance at you, and your gaze doesn’t falter. he doesn’t wait another moment not to kiss you the millionth time, your bottom lip captured between both of his in desperation. three, five, seven seconds into it, when his tongue grazes yours, he feels his fangs emerge, making him pull away just as quickly so he doesn’t hurt you.

“no, nena,” he utters the answer against your lips, smirking, “but your kids can.”

© devotion - reblog and comment if you enjoyed it! <3 however, do not repost, credited or not, on any other website or platform.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse spoilers #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader fluff #miguel x reader #x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #devotion writes

[tenelkadjowrites]

Attention - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🤳 Summary: Your attraction to Hwa, a camboy you enjoy watching late at night, unexpectedly spills into the real world.

🤳 Word count: 17.5k

🤳 Genre & warnings: smut one shot. camboy seonghwa with inexperienced reader. fem pronouns for reader. depictions of cigarette smoking. jerking off. biting, reader receiving. oral sex, both reader receiving and giving. messy blowjob with some gagging. 69. reader swallows. lots of dirty talk, reader is called "whore", "slut", and "good girl". fingering. pussy spanking. choking, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

                Snuggling down into your bed clutching your phone, you turn on your side and look at the time. It’s late, past midnight. You should be sleeping but you’re wired, too awake from work. The blueish glow of your phone casts a translucent tint to your skin.

                You’re scrolling through Instagram but you know where you really want to go. Even though you’re entirely alone, you still are embarrassed while closing out of the app and bringing up the site. There is something tinged with desperation every time you go to his page. The feeling is even worse if you spend money; come morning, you scold yourself, the same lecture every single time about needing to go get laid or find a guy nearby to at least have a good time with.

                At least it would be better than throwing money at a cam boy, you argue, and cheaper to boot. Yet the promise never seems to stick. Sure, you might go a week, even two, before you end up on his page. But you always crack and crawl back.

                You aren’t even sure if he would be live tonight. But it’s Friday night and the chances are higher than usual that he might be. Some part of you hopes that he is, the other part of you dreads it. You ignore both emotions, navigating to his page and clicking on it.

                The profile loads – catboyhwa1117 – and there is a tiny green dot in the corner of his photo, indicating he is live. Your heart skips a beat while entering the stream.

                It connects, the picture is grainy for a few seconds and then snaps into clarity.

                “No, it’s supposed to rain tonight,” Hwa is saying in that deep familiar voice of his, “Supposed to rain all weekend.”

                He’s outside, going for a walk, most likely to grab a cigarette because he’s said before his roommate doesn’t want any smoking in the apartment. It’s too dark to make his face out but you can see the outline of the buildings behind him with their small windows glowing like fireflies in the dark.

                “Wait, I’m gonna stop here cuz the café is closed,” He says and there is a shuffling of his phone, a blur of streetlights and then it comes to a rest propped up on the table, “Okay, that works.”

                You can see him now, your heart constricting enough that a tide of embarrassment hits you in the chest over having such a reaction to someone you don’t actually know.

                There are a couple of things that make following Hwa on his cam for a year now both mystifying and agonizing. The first is that there is nothing about his appearance that usually lends itself to your type of guy. He smokes, which you typically find off putting, he has a ton of tattoos, his tongue is pierced, and he wears a lot of jewelry. He wears thin black t-shirts and jeans that hang low off his slender hips, sometimes even crop tops that show off his stomach and abs. He fits the stereotype of bad boy almost painfully so which would also be a turn off if it was apparent that nothing about it felt false in all the streams of his you’ve watched (which are numerous).

                The second thing is that you live in the same city.

                You didn’t know this at first when watching his streams. You stumbled across his profile late one night when you were exceptionally lonely and looking for any sort of human connection. There was something oddly captivating about his appearance, the way he talked to everyone as if he personally knew them and of course, how he looked when he decided to show off his body that made you weak in the knees. But the more you watched Hwa, the more you recognized places like the corner shop he’d pop into it, the backdrop of buildings behind him, the occasional bar he would go into to stream himself having a drink. The definite proof came one night when a popular musician came to town and he got stuck in the crowds after the show let out.

                That made watching Hwa a little too real. The possibility of running into him left you both terrified and exhilarated. You never dreamt of trying to find his location when he was streaming because that felt way too creepy. Admitting to Hwa that you tracked him down on a stream meant that you watched him touch himself on his shows and have seen him naked before and there was no way in hell you could look that man in the face and let him know that. No, better to leave it up to the universe than tempting fate yourself.

                There is a spark as Hwa lights up his cigarette, leaning close to the camera. The lighting here is better and you can see a silver necklace dangling in front of his chest. He’s wearing just a thin sleeveless black shirt tonight, exposing his toned arms which have a random assortment of tattoos on them. His jewelry is gaudy, big heavy ugly rings on his long and slender fingers. His black nail polish is chipping and he doesn’t seem to care. His cheekbones could cut glass and his eyelashes are so long that you’re kinda jealous.

                Even if I did run into him, he wouldn’t look twice at me, you think, knowing that your fashion sense is next to nonexistent and your superpower is the ability to blend into the background of any event and have no one notice you especially someone like Hwa.

                “Someone asked what we’re doing tonight,” Hwa says, his eyes scanning chat, “Do we ever do anything? ‘Are you going to jerk off tonight’ asked someone else. Frankly, I love the enthusiasm so I’ll consider it. ‘Is your band going to do a show soon’. I’m not in a band but I appreciate the conclusion you leapt to based off my appearance. I think I would look good in a band, not gonna lie.”

                You occasionally type in chat, too shy even through a screen to interact with Hwa regularly. That’s another reason you spend most of your time alone – your overpowering shyness that you can never seem to overcome even in chat rooms.

                There is another word that comes to mind when you watch Hwa’s streams – he’s what your friends would label a bit of a fuckboy. He knows he’s attractive, he’s confident to the point of arrogance, and is candid about how much he enjoys sex. Basically, if he wasn’t on your phone screen, you would steer clear of him out of fear that you would be unable to keep up with his pace and experience.

                But since he is just on your phone screen…well, it’s okay to watch from afar.

                “No, I’m going back to my place after this. I just needed a smoke and wanted to go for a walk, figured I’d say hi to everyone,” Hwa goes, leaning back against the metal chair. His black hair falls in front of his eyes a little and he pushes it away quickly. “Is there a reason everyone is hornier tonight than normal?” He isn’t wrong, the entire chat is filled with people simping harder than usual for him.

                “Full moon,” You type after hesitating for a few seconds.

                “BubblegumHeart said it’s the full moon,” He reads, sending a jolt through you as he says your username, “I think that one has a lot of merit. More merit than half of the other shit you guys are sending like it’s my sleeveless shirt.”

                In all honesty, it most likely is the sleeveless shirt, you think.

                Hwa waves the smoke out of his face, taking one long drag off the cigarette before smushing it against the table and standing up. You’re staring at his black jeans hanging loosely off his hips, a belt thrown lazily around his delicate waist and can feel your thighs clench. You don’t know why some random person online can make you this turned on and no one in reality can. Your sexual experience is pretty thin but even the few encounters you’ve had don’t make you as turned on as watching Hwa just casually existing.

                He picks up the camera, bringing his face back into view. Not for the first time, you find yourself admiring how plump his lips are and how occasionally a streetlight catches the tongue piercing when he talks and it glimmers for a brief millisecond. You’ve wondered before if the piercing would make him going down on you a different experience from your other ones.

                Both in the stream and in your bedroom, you hear a crack of thunder in the distance. Hwa looks over his shoulder, making a face.

                “Guess I better walk faster,” He remarks.

                You don’t type again in chat as he heads to his apartment. The time spent getting back to his place is mostly him flirting with people in the chat, typical of his streams. People toss money his way for more specific attention. If there is one thing Hwa is good at, it’s making everyone who throws money in his direction feel special. The attention is fleeting and means nothing but for those few moments where he gives a thoughtful response or more intense flirting; it makes everything else fade to the background. That’s why you’re here, after all, and why you’ve given him money yourself.

                Back at his apartment, the camera is covered until he gets into his bedroom to give his roommate respect and privacy. You know nothing about his roommate besides they don’t want him smoking in the apartment. Once Hwa is back in his bedroom, the phone is plopped onto its stand showing off his bed and large computer set up. He’s mentioned before he makes music in his spare time (synthwave, if you remember correctly, which is how the rumor he is in a band got started) and uses his computer to do it.

                Hwa seems to live permanently in mood lighting. A purple lava lamp is glowing on his desk, his computer has those light up rainbow keys you typically only see on the ratemysetup subreddit, and he flicks on one of those projector lights that sends hazy stars slowly across the ceiling, also in purple. You don’t think you’d recognize him in anything other than the dim lighting of bars, coloured lights or the glimmer from the moon.

                “Alright, sorry everyone but I’m switching to members only,” He says to the camera and your heart skips a beat, “If you wanna stick around, you can subscribe.”

                Hwa exclusively switched to members only streams when he started doing the sort of thing that makes your brain melt. Of course, you had subscribed around eight months ago in a fit of weakness and desire. The stream switches over to members only and you find yourself sitting up a little more in bed, eyes glued to the small screen of your phone.

                Hwa is sitting at the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his hair as he reads the chat. “‘Tell us about the last person you fucked’, no, I don’t talk about anything I do off camera with people. They didn’t agree to that. You guys know the rules, you’re just all rowdy tonight. Maybe this will calm you all down.”

                He stands up, pulling his shirt off over his head and throwing it onto the bed. You swallow hard, staring at Hwa shirtless. Your favourite thing about him like this is the snake tattoo that starts just above his hip bone, circles around his torso, goes up along his back before looping back onto his chest and ends with the snake head just underneath his collarbone. It’s black with hints of red, gorgeous against his skin and incredibly sexy for reasons you don’t understand. The first time you saw it, you almost fell out of bed and now you cling to any time he shows it off.

                Hwa is playing up the audience, knowing damn well that taking off his shirt won’t do a thing to settle anyone down, yourself included. Even though your logical mind knows better, you find yourself tossing him a few dollars to tell him how good he looks. When he says thanks, you squirm in bed, resisting the urge to touch yourself already.

                He pulls the belt off his pants, dropping it to the floor. His pants slide down another inch, exposing the top of his hip bones. Hwa seems to enjoy showing off on camera, getting off on the attention people give him whenever he decides to jerk off for everyone. You’d pass away before ever doing something like that in front of strangers but his confidence is appealing in a new way. You find yourself attracted to everything Hwa does even though you’ve never looked at guys like him before.

                “‘Can I hire you to fuck me’ no, you cannot but I appreciate the money,” Hwa says, unzipping his pants and lowering them to show off his boxers.

                You can see the bulge of his already hard cock and your hand wiggles down to the band of your own underwear. You can’t believe how turned on you are or how badly you want him, this man you’ll never have, this man who will never notice your existence outside of a throwaway line uttered to you during a stream.

                He runs his hand down the front of his boxers, fondling himself. The rings glitter in soft lights of his room as his cock grows harder. You think about being on your knees and taking Hwa in your mouth, wondering what it would be like to have him make a mess of your face with his cum while he talks dirty in that low voice of his. When it came to Hwa, you wanted to him fuck you in ways you hadn’t thought about before; it was as if you would do anything to be his dirty little whore.

                You end up giving him more money just to tell him how much you want to suck his cock as your hand dips underneath your underwear to touch your wet pussy.

                “BubblegumHeart wants to suck my cock. It’s funny how chatty you get whenever I’m half naked. Exceptionally quiet the entire stream minus a comment here or there and then dying for me to fuck their face,” Hwa says, pulling the boxers down as his cock springs free.

                The comment makes your head spin, your finger touching your clit with a jolt of pleasure at the sight of Hwa wrapping his hand around his length along with his dirty comment aimed at you. You think once again about being on your knees for him, his fingers gently tilting your chin upwards to look at him while stroking his cock. He’d call you his little slut, tell you to be his good girl and suck his dick. On the screen, Hwa is slowly jerking himself off, basking in the attention from everyone in chat. Your eyes are glued to the screen, not caring what anyone else is saying, just admiring the way his hand looks around his dick and how his balls must be full of cum. Your finger rubs your clit, pussy wet as you both watch him and daydream about what he would do to you.

                Hwa spits on his hand lewdly, smearing it across his cock. The tip is glistening with precum as he moves his hips slightly so there is a better angle of it shown to the camera. You’re thinking about how it’d feel in your mouth and how much of it you could take before it’d hit the back of your throat. You don’t care if you made a mess with Hwa, in fact most of your daydreams are centred around him fucking you for so long and so hard that you’re practically unrecognizable by the end.

                Hwa resumes jerking off, his painted fingernails a blur as he increases his speed. Your pussy is dripping wet, soaking through your underwear as you furiously rub your clit. In the purple hue of his bedroom, Hwa’s torso is bathed in soft colours, the snake looking almost sinister wrapped around him. The projector that rotates the stars occasionally has one or two land on his stomach for a couple of seconds before moving away, giving a small pinprick of bright light against his toned abs for a second.

                He slows down his speed, allowing a drop of precum to drip off the tip of his dick before resuming. You can hear how wet your pussy is, unable to stop as your climax draws closer watching Hwa. You want to run your tongue up along his snake tattoo, bounce in his lap and have his hands roam all over your body. The desire is a palpable thing, a beast that resides just under the surface of your skin. You know that a chance with Hwa will never happen and that wanting him this much is silly but watching him touch himself shatters all the borders you usually put up.

                Hwa’s breathing is heavy and maybe his moans are for the sake of the audience, you don’t know nor care, but he sounds positively delicious as his orgasm draws nearer. You can picture his hand curling around your neck, giving it a squeeze as he pounds you into the bed so hard that you could see stars. You’d let him do anything to you, be his doll –

                Hwa gasps and his climax begins. His load goes all over his hand, making a mess as he tries to stop it from getting everywhere. There is a ton of it, he always cums a lot, and your hips wiggle as your own orgasm begins at the sight of his load and the mental image of him coating your face with it.

                Your phone drops from your hands as you lose yourself to the pleasure, head rolled back against the pillow. As your body goes limp, you can hear Hwa talk about cleaning up his mess from where your phone fell onto the bed.

                Your cheeks burn with sudden embarrassment as the orgasm abates and reality sets in. Ashamed, you sit up and snatch your phone, exiting out of the live stream hastily as if someone is going to discover what you did.

                Plopping back in bed, you stare at the ceiling. The storm started at some point during the live stream, and now you listen to it strike against the roof. You force your eyes closed, knowing that come morning, you’ll be beating yourself up for spending money in the stream and for being down so badly over a person that will never know you exist.

*

                It’s Saturday night and for once you’re out at a bar although it wasn’t your idea. Two of your friends convinced you to come with them to a larger get together. It’s someone’s birthday but you aren’t exactly sure who.

                After a couple hours, you’re already ready to go home. The bar is loud, incredibly crowded since it’s the weekend, and you aren’t much of a drinker. Having only agreed so that they would keep inviting you to things, you idly wonder how much time you can put in here before it’s okay to leave.

                As usual, you end up on the outskirts of the group. Part of it is your choosing – too much social interaction makes your anxiety overwhelming – and part of it is just how things seemingly always go.

                The rain began hours ago, a torrent that wiped the entire city clean before slowing to a steady thrum. The bar smells like water, the city, smoke and too many perfumes and colognes battling for attention. Your back presses against the wall, watching as a cluster of people play pool, your friends order another round of shots and someone begins to drunkenly yell at someone who spilled their beer.

                You don’t think anyone would notice if you were to slink out now. The city makes it easy to get swallowed up in. Your nerves are frayed from all the anxiety and noise. Deciding to call it a night, you wiggle through the crowd, popping out of the entrance and into the rain.

                The temperature has dropped considerably since you were last outside. Taking a deep breath, you feel it freeze your lungs for a few seconds. You don’t have an umbrella but awkwardly shove yourself back into the oversized hoodie that had been removed earlier in the night.

                After wandering down the block, you stop in front of a bar that is swathed in dark and red, almost sinister looking. The windows are tinted and you can’t see inside. There are shadows against the windows, slightly distorted from whatever effect the glass has on it, making it look vaguely like a bar from the underworld. But the stoop directly in front is quiet and under an overhang which makes it a perfect spot to plop down at to give yourself a few minutes to settle your nerves.

                The concrete is cold against your fingertips. You tried to dress up tonight a bit which meant a skirt that ended right at your knees. Now, it just means you’re cold. You pull the hood up of your hoodie, trying to get warm. Rubbing your hands together, you idly watch the way the cars cut through the puddles and the streetlights shatter like glass in each ripple.

                You exhale slowly, enjoying the peace and quiet. Yes, you made the right call in leaving the bar. You’ll be home soon, crawling into your warm bed and into your dreams soon enough.

                You hear the door to the bar swing open followed by a burst of electronic music before it becomes muffled again. You don’t pay any attention to a few people leaving, their heads bowed together as they giggle. You think maybe, normally, you’d feel lonely at a moment like this. But right now, you are just so relieved to be in the quiet of the street versus all the earlier noise.

                The door opens again, another explosion of music for a couple of seconds. You tilt your face back, studying the way an apartment building looks as if it is touching the storm clouds. You wonder what each individual person in each apartment is doing –

                “Hey, do you have a light?”

                At first, you don’t think the voice could be directed at you. But as the silence stretches and you bring your head out of the clouds, the voice tries again.

                “Can never fucking tell if someone has Air Pods in. Honest to hell, it kinda drives me crazy…Hey, do you have a light?” The repeated question is a lot louder this time.

                That voice, you think as time comes to a crawl, there’s no way. You turn your head in the direction of it, your heart knowing before your brain that it is going to belong to…

                Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. There is you, freezing your ass off on concrete, and then there is him, the cam boy of your dreams, Hwa, standing right in front of you, slightly leaning forward, squinting as if trying to see if you have Air Pods in because your ears are covered by the hoodie.

                “No, I don’t smoke.” You hear your voice although it sounds very far away, as if it doesn’t belong to you.

                This cannot be happening.

                But it is. Hwa is wearing a thin black tank top with a fishnet shirt tossed over it, exposing his bare arms in the cut outs of the netting. A necklace with a small green pendant dangles in front of his leaning body, swinging gently like a pendulum. His black jeans are ripped, his knees exposed and most of his fingers have the familiar rings on that you’ve seen a ton of times in streams. The bar’s red light makes the tips of his black hair glow.

                “Oh, shame. Forgot to bring my lighter.”

                You are frozen, unsure what to do. Just don’t say anything about it and he’ll leave in a few seconds. This whole thing will feel like a fever dream. But that primal part of you, that part that responds to everything Hwa casually does on his streams, is stirring like a savage beast.

                “I didn’t see you inside,” Hwa continues, oblivious to the mental strife you’re currently suffering through.

                It feels like moving a boulder to try to speak a normal sentence. “Oh, I wasn’t inside. I was at the bar a few places down but I just left. It was really crowded and loud in there…” You trail off, immediately self-conscious about talking too much to the sexiest guy you’ve ever seen.

                “No kidding? That’s why I came out here too,” Hwa says and to your utter shock – and relief…and horror… - he sits down next to you. “Sometimes I need a breather from the crowds.”

                You are sitting very still as if one wrong move will make this entire situation vanish into thin air. You are glad that your hoodie is pulled up, offering you a little protection from Hwa seeing your face which probably looks shell shocked.

                Time to stand up, tell him have a nice night and get the hell out of here, you think before that primal beast goes, no fucking way. You run into the guy you’ve been masturbating to for a year, the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, the only guy that makes you feel the way you do and now you want to head home?

                But it’s wrong to talk to him casually without him knowing that I know him!

                “Still can’t believe I forgot my lighter…I guess I’ll have to bum one off someone inside. Wow, it’s cold out here. Are you cold?”

                “A little,” You admit, still staring straight ahead, unable to look him in the face for fear of blurting out the secret or melting into a puddle of desire.

                From this angle, you can see Hwa drumming his fingers against his exposed knee. Those same fingers you’ve seen wrapped around his cock. I think I might spontaneously combust right here on the spot while wondering why the universe would land you in such a situation. The odds, even living in the same city, were so impossible that you never even daydreamed about running into Hwa. It seemed ridiculous that you would now be sitting next to him outside a bar, a cruel joke from someone who just wanted to create chaos.

                “My friend San got me into this bar cuz it’s invite only but then he took off twenty minutes ago because something came up,” Hwa continues speaking in that same voice you’ve heard a thousand times through your phone, “Hey, are you heading home after this?”

                “What?” You say, finally startled enough to turn your head to look directly at him.

                “If you’re not, why don’t you come with me inside?” Hwa flashes a smile, so familiar that it knocks the air out of your lungs, “Like I said, the place is invite only and is sorta exclusive so if you wanna grab a drink together. My name is Hwa.”

                You squint your eyes, feeling torn between jumping for joy and running down the road. “You don’t even know me.” is what you end up saying instead, immediately disliking how hostile the words come out.

                Hwa looks unperturbed, replying, “Sure but we already have something in common by coming out here for some fresh air. On top of that, you’ve just been watching the rain fall against the road which is something I do all the time when I’m trying to come up with a song. So, maybe we are a bit similar.”

                A natural question after this would be oh you write songs? But to utter such a thing would be lying to Hwa immediately since you already know he writes synthwave music. Hwa asking you to go inside could mean nothing. On his streams, he always has struck you as someone down for adventure, someone who loves people, and here you are, sitting alone outside a bar – why wouldn’t he ask to hang out? But Hwa also loves sex and attention, and you’re a woman sitting outside a bar, why wouldn’t he want to try to hit on you?

                But I know you even though you don’t know me. I masturbate to you almost regularly. You’re like the guy of my sexual dreams. But none of those words leave your mouth even as the guilt swirls.

                Hwa stands up then, extending his hand towards you. A stray lock of hair falls out of place, framing his angled face, with his eyes as dark as the bottom of the ocean. Looking directly at Hwa, you know you’re swimming with the sharks.

                “Would you like to have a drink with me?” He offers.

                You swallow hard and go, “Sure.”

Remembering that he told you his name earlier, you tell him yours while reaching upwards. Your hand meets his as he helps you up off the concrete. Your heart is beating so quickly that you’re breathless. His fingers are around yours for a few seconds and you are entranced at the sight of his painted nails as small blurs against your skin. When Hwa lets go of your hand, he motions to the door, beckoning you to follow.

                And you do, as if any other choice actually existed. If the universe had opted to toss you in Hwa’s direction, then you would take it.

                Hwa pushes open the door to the bar, the electronic music promptly smacking you in the face with the force of a punch. The entrance is covered in a low red light and shadows dance on the walls. There is a bouncer by the second door, and a woman is looking crestfallen as he shakes his head, pointing her towards the exit.

                Hwa stops in front of the bouncer, who nods before pointing at you with a puzzled expression on his face. Hwa yells something while gesturing to you and the bouncer nods again, moving to the side to let you both in. Hwa reaches for your hand once more, and the guilt becomes too much as you enter the bar with him.

                “Hey!” You shout over the din but he doesn’t hear you.

                The music is obnoxiously loud – no wonder Hwa popped out for a break – and people are crowded at the bar, bodies pressed together and the air heavy with smoke. The music makes the floor vibrate underneath your feet but no one is dancing. In fact, you can’t even spot a dance floor, just two people wildly making out smushed in a corner that looked like it maybe, in an earlier iteration, had a dance floor.

                Everything is black and red to an almost dizzying effect. Hwa stops at the bar, wedging himself into a small cluster of people. His hand is still holding onto yours, your eyes falling on it. It’s wrong that he doesn’t know, the voice in your head that is as loud as the music thrumming along your skin goes, you need to tell him before it gets more complicated.

                Hwa has now successfully gotten a lighter from someone unceremoniously shoving it into his pocket. He turns around and shoots you a grin with those dazzling white teeth of his, setting off to lead you further into the bar.

                “Hey!” You yell again and this time sharply tug on his hand.

                Hwa stops, turning his body slightly to the side to look over his shoulder at you. His brows come together in question and he asks you what although it is swallowed up by the music.

                “I have to tell you something!” You’re now wishing the confession had occurred outside the bar as the electronic music swirls around you.

                Hwa is bumped by someone, he shoots them a glare and then turns around to face you, moving so close that the warmth of his body seeps into yours. Doused in the wild lights of the bar, you don’t think it is possible for him to look sexier than he currently does. When he asks you what once again, you can see the quick flash of his tongue piercing and your knees actually feel weak.

                No choice left but forward, you motion for Hwa to get closer. He does so, his body angling so that his ear is next to your lips. Being this close to him is making your head dizzy. You can make out the muscles in his arms through the fishnet, can see the small tattoo behind his ear of a symbol you don’t recognize of two small pieces coming together, and watch as his green pendant swings in front of his chest.

                You shut your eyes for a second as if about to jump off a cliff and shout over the heavy music, “I know who you are! I watch your streams!”

                Hwa pulls away immediately, eyes widening. In the dancing blaze of red lights, it is a little difficult to make out his expression and it isn’t as if the bar lends itself to any sort of intimate conversation. But you couldn’t deal with the guilt over hanging out with Hwa and hiding the fact you know what he does in his spare time. It just felt wrong.

                To your surprise, he tilts his head back and laughs. You stare at the tongue piercing, unsure what to do or even say, given his reaction. He jerks his head to the side, an indicator to continue following him. He is still holding your hand as he wedges himself through the crowd. He said this place was invite only but it’s like the entire damn city is here.

                Hwa leads you up a metal staircase near the back of the bar, taking you up to the second floor. There is another bouncer here but he merely waves at Hwa, pushing the curtain to the side to allow access. You follow, walking past VIP booths. Someone has ordered bottle service and it is an explosion of glowing bottles, sparklers, and tiny lights flashing as a group of women pop the bottle at one of the tables.

                The music isn’t as loud here – still overwhelming but enough that conversation could go easier. Hwa stops at one of the smaller booths, releasing your hand and sitting down. Feeling nervous now, you sit on the opposite side. You’re totally out of your element and it isn’t just because you’re with Hwa. This type of bar is new to you, and you’re self-conscious about your quick outfit of the hoodie and skirt meant for a totally different setting.

                Hwa scoots all the way into the middle of the booth and motions for you to move closer. You know it is just because of the volume of the music but to be this close to him is making your heart race. Combined with the confession of watching his streams, you aren’t sure if it is racing because of desire or anxiety. Maybe both.

                His body is angled towards you, one arm across the back of the booth near your back. You aren’t sure where to look. You want to just stare at him, take in the sight of his face and his body and the fact he is this close to you but your shyness at the confession mixed with the surreal nature of the situation means you just end up staring at the table.

                A server comes off, asking in a loud voice to be heard over the music if the two of you want anything.

                “Just a water,” You yell, feeling a little ridiculous at communicating only via shouting.

                “Same,” Hwa goes, taking your lead and the server nods, leaving you alone with him.

                His eyes are on you again and your hands grip the edge of your hoodie as if it is a life raft. Your body is screaming for him a way that you’ve never experienced before while your brain is in a pure panic at having confessed you know who he is.

                Hwa leans towards you, his lips near your ear. You hold your breath, the different emotions bouncing in your chest as he speaks.

                “You really watch my streams?”

                When you turn your head to look at him, you’re so close that it would take a second to press your lips against his. He doesn’t seem phased by it, merely waiting for you to answer. Can he tell how much you want him? Is it obvious that he impacts you? You aren’t sure; his eyes don’t reveal anything.

                “Yes,” You reply, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make things awkward but it felt wrong hanging out with you and hiding it.”

                “No, I appreciate the honesty,” Hwa says and for a brief second his eyes drop to where your hoodie meets your skirt, “I’ve never run into anyone irl before that’s seen my streams.”

                “Really?”

                He nods, brushing his hair away from his face. His rings are so familiar – everything about him is so familiar. You swallow. Hwa notices, trying to hide a smirk. Your heart is skipping rope in your chest.

                “Yeah. I honestly never considered running into someone. Or…I didn’t think they’d actually admit they knew who I was,” He studies you for a moment, “Do you talk in the chat?”

                “Oh, uhm…occasionally. Sometimes.” Mortification is beginning to sit in as the conversation goes further. Does he think you’re some desperate loser for watching his streams?

                The server returns with the two glasses of water, unceremoniously left on the table because they have actual real drink orders to take. Nervously, you grab the water, fiddling with the paper straw, hoping that keeping your hands busy will stop you from reaching out to Hwa and doing something desperate.

                “Oh yeah? What’s your username?”

                “My username?” You’re stalling.

                “Yeah, maybe I’ll know it.”

                His words uttered during the stream last night come back to you. BubblegumHeart wants to suck my cock. It’s funny how chatty you get whenever I’m half naked. Exceptionally quiet the entire stream minus a comment here or there and then dying for me to fuck their face. You busy yourself taking a large gulp of water through the straw, wanting to sink into the floor of the club and disappear from Hwa’s view.

                He is watching you patiently, apparently in no hurry to get information. There is something languid about his movements, like a cat lazily watching its prey and knowing no matter what happens, it’ll catch it. Does he see you like that? Did you want him to? Again, the old thoughts return about how experienced he must be compared to yourself and the paltry limited sexual encounters you’ve had your entire life.

                When you can’t put it off any longer, you mumble, “It’s BubblegumHeart.”

                You spoke it so softly that you aren’t even sure it is audible. But Hwa reacts immediately, a grin breaking out across his face, looking as if he just hit the jackpot.

                “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” He says gleefully, “You’re a fucking chat regular.”

                What are the odds of lightning breaking the roof and striking me down right now? If I can run into Hwa, surely I can be electrocuted, right?

                “That’s amazing,” Hwa continues, sounding positively chipper, “You’re in almost every stream. I always notice you because as soon as I’m done jerking off, you immediately leave like clockwork.” He snaps his fingers. “I could never tell if you were embarrassed at watching me or just did what you needed to do and left.”

                Or maybe a stampede of wild animals from the zoo will break out, storm this bar and trample me. That might be better. Are the odds of that higher or lower? Whichever one will make my deep embarrassment stop first.

                He props his chin on his hand, studying you and your phony fascination with the glass of water. You’re too embarrassed to even talk.

                “So?” He prompts.

                Swallowing, you go, “What?”

                “Which one is it? Do you get that post nut shame and close out of my stream or do you just see those things as down to business, business taken care of, time to close out?”

                You idly resume swirling the straw in the cup, biting down hard on your bottom lip for a second before forcing yourself to look at Hwa directly. His fingers rest again his cheek, his dark eyes alight with interest, and his body wickedly warm next to yours.

                “It’s embarrassment,” You finally reply, “But none of it has to do with you. I just get embarrassed about…paying for attention. And getting off to someone I don’t know.”

                “Lots of people get off to people they don’t know. That’s basically the entirety of porn,” Hwa points out.

                “You know what I mean,” You mumble.

                He shifts a little closer. Your knees are touching now, the contact of skin against skin like pure electricity being dumped over your body. “Is it because you like getting off to me, specifically?” His voice has dropped an octave, low in your ear, settling across your brain to create a pleasant hum. Mixed with the throbbing sound of the music, it is almost making you delirious.

                There is a lump in your throat as you go, “Yes.”

                “Is it because you want to suck my cock?” He asks, quoting your comment from last night.

                The words are like a sledgehammer to your chest, knocking you entirely off balance. Your grip tightens around the glass and you’re sure that Hwa notices but you can’t help yourself. You’re getting to that dangerous tipping point where your brain is about to log out for the night. You only ever get this sensation when you’re watching his streams. How could you resist it when he’s right in front of you in the flesh?

                “Yes,” You exhale, “Can I ask you something now?”

                He nods. Very lightly, you feel his fingertips grazing the back of your neck where his arm is stretched across the back of the booth. The touch is intense; you never want him to stop. It is so faint that you can barely feel it but as he brushes his fingers there, you realize just how wet you already are – from basically nothing but talking to him.

                “Before I told you…about the streams. When we were outside. Why did you ask me to come in here with you?”

                “Cute girl, sitting alone in just a hoodie and a skirt, watching the rain fall across the city. Me, alone tonight because my friend had to leave. Figured I’d see where it would lead.”

                “Where do you want it to lead?” It is as forward as you can get without getting tongue tied.

                Hwa’s eyes drop once more to your skirt laying across your thighs before flicking back up to your face. You’re trying not to squirm under his gaze.

                “I think you know where I want it to lead,” He goes and to your shock and delight, he brings his other hand to lightly rest on your knee.

                Things like this do not happen to me, you think, knowing this entire situation is just too good to be true and therefore, your brain is going to attempt to sabotage it.

                “I don’t – uhm. I don’t have a lot of experience in this area. Very little, actually. And it will probably not be fun…for you.”

                “I’m a good teacher,” is all he says without missing a beat, “If you want one.”

                How does Hwa do that? Just flip every single conversation into something that makes your knees weak and your pussy so wet that all logic goes out the window? You have a feeling he could suggest jumping off a bridge with him and you’d likely agree.

                You make a strangled noise as your brain buffers with a reply and your body just wants to jump in his lap. As you take in the sight of Hwa next to you, his hand on your knee, your mind flickers back to the snake tattoo that curls around his body. The mental image of running your fingers across it is in vivid colour.

                “I do want one,” You manage to say without stumbling over your words.

                Hwa flashes you a grin and leans forward. You realize with a jolt he’s going to kiss you. You place two fingers against his chest to stop him, your breathing unsteady and hands shaking slightly. He stops immediately.

                “It doesn’t bother you that I’ve seen your streams?” You ask, so close to him now that you can study his jawline, the pinkish hue of his lips and the way he is looking at you as if he can’t wait to taste you.

                “No. Why would it bother me?” Even though the music is loud, you can still somehow hear him as though your brain filters out everything but him. “Just means I don’t have to waste any time explaining who I am and what I like to do.”

                Another mental image of his hand stroking his cock. You swallow hard, your fingers lowering back to your lap. There is no other excuse to wield, no other manner in which you can deny yourself the very thing you’ve wanted the most.

                “I guess that’s true,” You murmur as Hwa’s hand slowly moves up your leg, resting just at the bottom of your skirt where your thigh begins.

                Your brain finally gives up, throwing its hands in the air and retreating as Hwa presses his lips against yours. The sensation is like two planets colliding, your entire body is wrapped up in the feeling of Hwa kissing you. His hand presses down against your thigh, the coldness of his rings making goosebumps break out against your skin. His other hand brushes along the back of your neck as the kiss grows deeper.

                You’ve never done something like this, kissing someone you basically don’t know. Sure, you’ve watched Hwa on streams but that isn’t the same thing as knowing someone, is it? It isn’t as if he knew about you beforehand. But you’ve never desired anyone like you’ve lusted after Hwa through a screen and the idea of missing out on him when the universe sent him your way just doesn’t make any sense.

                You fend off a moan when Hwa’s tongue slips into your mouth and you can feel his piercing. How many times did you daydream about this? Too many to count.

                When he pulls away, his skin is slightly tinged with colour and the expression of lust is in his eyes. Knowing it is directed at you only furthers your desire.

                “Do you want to come back with me to my place?” He asks, a sentence that is so dreamlike you hope that you never forget it.

                That’s when the server interrupts the two of you, asking if everything is going okay. You can tell by the bored tone in their voice that two people making out in a booth is just a regular night.

                Both of you say that you’re fine. The server leaves and you try to steady your breathing.

                “Do you mind if I smoke?” Hwa asks.

                “I do, actually, I don’t love the smell when it’s right next to me,” You reply, knowing it would be easier just to say yes and go along with whatever Hwa wants due to your feelings for him but unable to do that to yourself.

                To your surprise, he grins again, that same quick as a dagger smile that threatens you to break every promise you’ve ever had with yourself.

                “That’s alright, I can have one on the walk home. Are you coming with me? We got interrupted before you could answer before.”

                As if saying no was ever an option.

                “Yeah, I’ll come with you,” You hesitate, “Are you sure you’re alright with my lack of experience?”

                “You’re hung up on it way more than me,” Hwa replies, “Like I said, it doesn’t bother me. You just tell me whatever you want to do tonight. You can decide.”

                This takes you by surprise. “I’m not very good at leading.”

                “You don’t have to lead. You just tell me what you want to try and we’ll try it. I’ll show you. If we start something and you don’t like it, you tell me and we switch to something else.” His tone is casual, without any shyness, proving how comfortable he is with his own body and sex, a far cry from yourself.

                But this is the same attitude you always have found so sexy on his streams. Having it directed at you is a bit mind melting. Combined with the proposition of doing whatever you have fantasized about with Hwa and you’re starting to wonder if you’ve just won the sexual lottery.

                “Oh, okay,” You reply simply, too tongued tied and overwhelmed to say anything else.

                “Do you want to stay here longer or are you ready to go?”

                “No, we can go. Thanks for showing me this place but I don’t think I’ll ever come back here.”

                Hwa laughs at this as he slides out of the booth. He says something but it’s swallowed up by the music. He extends his hand again towards yours to help you out and then motions to the back of the VIP area.

                “There’s a back exit so you don’t have to cut through downstairs again. I’ll show you.”

                Following after Hwa, your eyes skim along the length of his back to his small waist. The nerves are buzzing now, the idea that you’re actually going to mess around and most likely fuck him starting to settle in with amazing clarity. You can taste him in your mouth from the earlier kiss and you seem to be emotionally leaping from open desire to pure anxiety.

                Hwa pushes the back door open and you trail after him onto a small metal balcony with a staircase leading to the alley. The rain has stopped and everything shines in the city lights, the puddles a multi coloured collection of neon signs and street lamps.

                Once you’re in the alleyway with Hwa, he pulls out a small box of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans as well as the lighter he collected earlier. The flame flickers brightly in the darkness as he lights the tip of his cigarette and takes a drag off it, tilting his face away from you while blowing the smoke out from in between those plump lips of his.

                “Here, stand on this side of me so the wind blows it away from you,” He says as the two of you leave the alley.

                “You seem to have practice with this. I guess because of your roommate?” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth because it brings up the fact you watch his streams and know more about him than he knows about you.

                “Yeah, Hongjoong doesn’t like it at all which I get. That’s one of the reasons I started streaming. The nighttime walks to smoke could be kinda boring.”

                “What are the other reasons?” You ask curiously.

                He glances at you out of the corner of his eye before going, “I like attention.”

                Which you had gathered. In some ways, you envy Hwa and his love of attention because you spend so much of your time hiding from it.

                “You never get self conscious on the streams?”

                You move around a large puddle on the sidewalk, almost losing your footing. Hwa’s hand goes to your back, an anchor that helps you steady yourself. The cigarette is in between his lips and he’s covered in a blue neon light from another bar.

                “No,” He says, the two of you frozen in place on the sidewalk as a car drives by, blasting muffled music, “Why would I? I know every single person watching my stream wants to fuck me. It’s a confidence booster more than anything.”

                You suppose that he also means you. Feeling your cheeks get hot, you straighten up and continue walking. Hwa brings his slender fingers to the cigarette, exhaling again and waving away any errant smoke that might drift in your direction. You wonder what it’s like to be so comfortable in your own skin like Hwa is.

                “Do you live far from here?”

                “No, about a ten minute walk. What about you?” He asks.

                “Yeah, I took an Uber here. Twenty minutes or so not accounting for traffic.”

                “Far enough away that we wouldn’t run into one another. Which leads me to another question.”

                “What?” You ask nervously.

                “Did you know we lived in the same city? I do what I can to try to make my location vague but if you live in the city and you watch my streams, you must have seen something that made you realize it.”        

                You’ve been honest the entire night so why lie now? “I did know, yeah. But I wasn’t about to…track you down while you were streaming or something. That felt completely out of bounds and creepy. The city is teeming with people. I told myself there is just no way I’d ever run into you. Did you ever think about what it would be like to run into someone who watched your streams?”

                “I assumed no one would actually admit to it even if I did run into someone. Admitting it means possibly admitting to sticking around when I switch to members only and watching me jerk off on camera as well as going on a website that is just full of cam shows. But I guess I was wrong because you told me.”

                “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

                “I wouldn’t be taking you back to my place if anything you did made me uncomfortable,” He replies, stopping at the crosswalk and looking at you. “Do you feel uncomfortable? You’re the one watching me jerk off on camera.”

                Flustered, you make another garbled noise before settling on, “I’m not uncomfortable. I’m just nervous.”

                “Due to your inexperience.”

                “That’s right.”

                “You always spend this much time in your own head?”

                “Basically. I spend a lot of time alone.”

                “Why’s that?”

                “Dunno, I just prefer it. People can be draining.”

                “You ever get lonely?”

                “Sometimes. I mean, that’s how I ended up on your stream. And why I kept going back,” You admit.

                “That and the fact you think I’m hot.”

                You’re starting to think Hwa enjoys flustering you. “Yes, that too.”

                The crosswalk light turns green and Hwa turns his attention back to the walk. For a few minutes, you’re both silent. However, it isn’t an awkward silence. Sure, you’re nervous about being around someone you want so badly. But there is a familiarity and ease to Hwa that makes things comfortable.

                “Can I ask you something else?”

                Hwa replies, “You don’t have to preface everything with that. You can ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

                “Why?” You go warily, “Why are you so open with me?”

                “I told you. I’ve never had anyone know about my cam shows. It’s a big facet of my life because I like doing them and it’s a secondary income. I’m not embarrassed but it’s a personal thing to tell someone what I do on those streams. No one else knows how far I go. Hongjoong is aware I casually go live but not the stripping, the jerking off, the dirty talk. A part of you ends up hidden even if you don’t mean to. But you know that part of me – you know that part of me first over anything else. Feels freeing.”

                You’re surprised by his answer but reassured that telling Hwa you watch his cam shows had been the right choice. You’re off the main road now, walking down a side street together that leads to a block of apartment buildings. You can hear another round of storms kicking up in the distance.

                “Well, my question isn’t that exciting. I was just wondering what you did outside of streaming for money.”

                “Like my job?”

                “Yeah.”

                “I’m actually the heir to a chain of grocery stores so I get money from my parents.”

                Confused, your steps slow as you look at him. But Hwa laughs loudly, shaking his head at your expression.

                “I’m joking, I’m joking. Can you imagine something like that? Sounds preposterous,” He drops the cigarette underneath his shoe, crushing it into a puddle. “Honestly, I got a collection of random stuff I do. Delivery driver, sometimes I use my car to do Uber drives, part time jobs here and there, just whatever catches my interest and gives me enough money to pay what I need to. The streaming is just one of the sources of income.”

                He stops in front of a nondescript apartment complex that is three floors. Underneath the streetlight, he leans against the crumbling wall in front of the building, an indication that this area was once fancier before it fell into a state of disrepair.

                “What were you saying to me before we left the club?” You ask, remembering how you couldn’t hear him over the noise.

                “Oh? Just that you were unbelievable. I like how honest you are. You didn’t try to drink through a misguided notion to try to impress me. You tell me that you don’t want me smoking next to you. You tell me the club sucks.”

                “I don’t think I used that exact phrasing,” You reply.

                He is grinning again. “Well, the intention is still the same. I like that you weren’t trying to hide anything about who you are just because you like watching my streams.”

                “It didn’t cross my mind,” You admit a bit sheepishly.

                His smile fades, his look becoming serious while studying you, making your heart race. “C’mere,” Hwa says, motioning for you to get closer.

                You do, and the thunder crackles in the distance, a little louder this time. Hwa places one hand on your waist, and the other on your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin. Your body reacts to him immediately. The pure desperation is reaching a boiling point. All your earlier fantasies of Hwa treating you like you’re his little whore float to the surface.

                This time, when he kisses you in the silence of the street, you melt into him. His hand moves from your waist to lower back to better angle you against his body. You reach upwards, fingers slipping through the fishnet top, pressing against the hard muscles underneath the thin fabric of his black tank top.

                When the kiss breaks, it is as if you are coming up for air after diving very deep into the ocean. Hwa’s black hair is glowing from the streetlight, his eyes heavy with desire.

                “Uhm, is your…is your roommate home?” You ask. Are we gonna have to be quiet? is what your question actually means.

                “Nah, Hongjoong works overnights. He won’t be back until seven,” He lowers his face, mimicking his posture from earlier in the club when the music was too loud, “That means you don’t have to worry about being quiet when I make you cum.”

                Oh, I don’t think I’m gonna survive this, you think as his words make your breath catch and brain buzz. He is holding your hand again, cutting across the parking lot towards one of the apartments on the bottom floor. Unlocking the door, you step inside after him, thinking about how many streams you’ve seen where he covered the camera.

                The apartment is small, well lived in but clean. The kitchen is even smaller; it could probably only hold one person in it to cook at a time. A bedroom door on the right is swung open and you know immediately it isn’t Hwa’s.

                “Do you want anything to drink?” He offers over his shoulder while walking to the bedroom on the left, near the kitchen.

                “I’m okay,” You reply, walking into his room for the first time.

                It’s exactly how it looks in the streams but from this angle, you see things that are not typically shown on camera. There is a small corkboard behind the stand for his phone that is filled with polaroid pictures of Hwa with his friends. There are actually too many photos to fit the board and they overflow, pinned to the border. You know it is positioned behind the camera for privacy reasons and you’re aware that you’re now seeing things meant for people only in Hwa’s life, not through a screen.

                Hwa turns on the projector light of stars, a familiar motion made entirely brand new from the fact you’re currently standing in his room. The lava lamp had been left on and the inky blobs move slowly. He turns to face you and the worlds of offline and online seem to collide. You suddenly find it difficult to speak, your shyness getting the best of you now that the objection of your desire has you alone in his bedroom.

                You motion to his computer. “How come you never upload your music online?”

                “I do. I just don’t link to it on streams.”

                “Why not?” You are curious, wondering why he wouldn’t use his following to promote his music.

                “Because everyone on stream wants to fuck me and that’ll cloud their judgement over the music. They’ll just tell me it’s great just because they know I made it.”

                “That’s not true,” You say but Hwa raises one eyebrow at your unconvincing tone.

                He moves closer to you, his hands going to your waist as he pulls you towards him. “Is that right?”

                “Sure. Play some right now and I’ll tell you it’s shit.”

                Hwa laughs, his perfectly white teeth and tongue piercing glinting in the dark lights of the bedroom. The longer this conversation goes on, the less you feel confident in being able to continue it due to how you are mentally screaming for him to touch you more. A couple of kisses aren’t enough. You want all of him, you want him to do everything to you.

                He kisses you then. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue is in your mouth, his hands staying on your waist. As the kisses deepen, grow more urgent, the nerves still flutter in your stomach, making you a bit distracted.

                It must show because when Hwa pulls away, he is studying your face through long lashes. “What are you thinking about?”

                “About ten thousand things at once.”

                “You overthink a lot, don’t you?”

                “Almost always, yeah.”

                “Have you ever been with someone and they just…made your brain shut off? Just stopped thinking completely because of how they were fucking you?”

                “I…ah…uhm…”

                “That’s a ‘no’,” Hwa retorts, and his hand is against your cheek, thumb brushing across your lips. He has an unreadable expression on his face but it’s making your heart thud heavily in your chest. “I can give you that. Would you like that?”

                Not that you doubt Hwa’s sexual prowess or his impact on your body but you do find the possibility of your brain being quiet for once highly improbable. But since your experience with sex is limited, maybe he could really do such a thing.

                “Sounds impossible but yes, I’d like that.” His thumb across your lips is distracting, making your earlier fantasies about sucking his dick return.

                “Tell me what you want to start with,” His voice is soft and in the silence of the room, it seems to slink down your back and make you shiver.

                “Will you just…uhm…kiss me again?” You’re too shy to ask him for anything more, the words stuck in your mouth.

                He brings his face to yours, kissing you slowly this time. You can feel this from the top of your scalp to the tip of your toes, sending your body alight with fresh desire. His hands move away from your waist to your lower back, not making any motion to remove your hoodie. As the kissing continues, each one growing deeper, Hwa takes a couple of steps back towards his bed. When he sits down, he pulls you into his lap, not stopping with the kisses the entire time.

                Your arms are back around his neck, sitting in his lap slightly turned so that your legs rest on his bed, too shy to suddenly straddle him. Hwa doesn’t seem to mind judging by the way one hand trails up along your legs to your thighs with his other hand against your back to hold you in place.

                He nips at your bottom lip with his teeth which makes your body shiver. His fingers dip just underneath the bottom of your skirt to touch your inner thigh. It’s a minor touch but feels like an earthquake inside your body. You’re almost embarrassed by how wet you are from almost nothing.

                You can tell Hwa is hard by the bulge pressing against your body so at least it isn’t just you being turned on. Nervously, you break the kiss, feeling too hot in the oversized hoodie. You tug it off over your head in an attempt to cool down, wearing just a regular t-shirt underneath. Hwa tosses the hoodie onto his computer chair before pulling you in for another kiss.

                His tongue in your mouth feels too good to be true and, unable to help yourself, you reach for his hand, bringing it upwards to one of your tits so he knows it is okay to touch you there. Hwa doesn’t miss a beat, immediately groping you through your shirt.

                Your own fingers are once again clinging to the fishnet shirt he has on. You hope he doesn’t notice your hands are shaking again.

                Hwa moves his head to your neck, biting down on the soft skin there with his teeth. A tiny groan escapes you which only makes him do it again.

                “Leave a mark,” You quietly beg, the words leaving your mouth before you even had time to question them, your head tilting back to give him more access.

                He sucks hard on your neck before biting down harder this time. The idea of having to cover up marks made by him come the next work day fills you with an excitement entirely new. Your hand is in his hair, silently urging him on as he moves to another spot of your neck to do the same.

                While doing this, Hwa brings his hand underneath your shirt to fondle your tits in your bra. It’s not enough and you make a noise of annoyance, tugging your bra down hastily so it’s around your waist. Normally, you’d be worried that you’re moving things too fast or should be taking things slower. But not with Hwa, not when you want to be consumed by him completely.

                He pinches one of your nipples, making you jump as he bites down on your neck. The sensations are intense; you didn’t think it was possible to be this wet. As he continues to fondle your bare tits, you remove your shirt, tossing it to the floor. Half dressed in Hwa’s lap while he is still fully closed, he brings his head down, sucking hard on your nipple with a soft pop when he pulls away. He moves his head to do the same to the other one, his tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking on it even harder.

                This time you groan and when Hwa moves his head away, there is a strand of spit from his bottom lip to your nipple.

                “You like that? Being pawed at like this?” He asks in a serious voice.

                You nod, your affirmative answer sounding a little bit higher pitch than normal.

                “Good girl,” He goes and the compliment makes your head spin, hitting a sweet spot in your brain that you didn’t even know you had, “You want me to keep doing this?”

                “N-no, I…” Here it is, your first actual request, as embarrassing as it feels to say it aloud, “I want to suck your cock,” When he nods, you reach out for his wrist, curling your fingers around it and shaking your head to indicate there’s more, “I…”

                “You don’t have to be shy with me,” Hwa murmurs, “We already know more about one another before we even met.”

                The words settle your nerves a little although you end up bringing your face close to his neck so he can’t look at you while whispering the fantasy in his ear. “I want you to put your cock deep in my throat. And I want…I want you to call me a whore and a slut during it.” Your face feels like it is on fire.

                Hwa shifts so that your face is moved away from him so he can look at you. You’re wiggling a little in his lap from the attention and the admission of what you want from him.

                “You want to be a good little whore for me and have my cock buried down your throat?” He asks and fuck if it doesn’t make you feel as if you’re turning into a feral thing in his lap hearing those words directed at you. “You like being called a whore?”

                “I – I’ve never been talked to like that from anyone else but I always think – I think about it with you.”

                Something lights up in Hwa’s eyes for a few seconds. “Oh, so you want to be my good little whore?” After you nod again, he goes, “I think I can give you that.”

                He carefully moves so that you’re off his lap while he throws a pillow onto the floor for your knees. It’s cold against your skin when you sink down onto it, still wearing your skirt. You’re both nervous and exhilarated. How many times have you thought about this?

                Hwa unzips his pants, removing them but leaves his boxers on, standing in front of you. Your heart is beating so fast that surely, it must be dangerous. Maybe fantasies coming true actually aren’t that good for you. You tilt your face back to look up at Hwa, still wearing his shirt and fishnet cover.

                “Pull down my boxers,” He says in the same stern yet soft tone.

                When you go to reach for them though, his eyes narrow for a second and he reaches for your hand, turning it so that the palm is facing upwards.

                “You’re trembling,” Hwa says and there is a small note of surprise in his voice, “Are you that nervous?”

                “It’s not just nerves,” You reply shyly, “It’s…I just…I’ve thought about this a lot. You…I’ve thought about you a lot.”

                Something shifts behind his eyes as he lets go of your hand, allowing you to continue. Tentatively, your fingers find the top of his boxers and you tug them down in a swift motion, exposing his hard cock.

                It isn’t as though this is the first time you’ve seen Hwa hard like this. But the fact you’re seeing him in person, and it’s all for you, makes you unable to hold back even a second longer. Leaning forward, you take the head of his hard cock into your mouth, rolling your tongue across the tip to taste his precum. Hwa inhales sharply at the touch. You realize he is giving you time to get used to him in your mouth so you drag your tongue along the underside of his shaft, one hand going to fondle his balls.

                Your blowjob experience is as limited as everything else you’ve done but Hwa’s breathing changes as you continue. At one point, you’re bobbing your head on his cock, cheeks hollow as you work on sucking him. When you pull him out of your mouth after that, however, you can feel his fingers gently rest on the back of your head so you go still.

                Hwa guides his cock back into your mouth, pushing further back until you gag and he pulls out. He doesn’t say anything but waits patiently for you to motion to continue. After you do so, his length fills your mouth and you press your tongue against his shaft, marveling at how much you enjoy it, how much you have wanted this.

                It must show on your face somehow because Hwa, in a taunt voice, goes quietly, “You like having your mouth stuffed full of my cock?”

                You make an affirmative noise, impossible to reply since your mouth is full. He rocks his hips a little, moving his cock deeper into your throat until it becomes too much for you, resulting in you pulling away with a tiny gasp. Precum and spit connect your lips to the tip of his cock, your eyes watering slightly as you look upwards at him.

                Hwa has one hand holding the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up a little to get a better angle at watching you deepthroat his cock. His gaze is lustful, his desire obvious as he studies your face.

                “Y-yes,” You mumble shyly, your underwear sticky against your pussy from how turned on you are.

                “Show me what you’ve thought about when you watch my streams,” His voice is soft, curling against a spot in your brain where all your fantasies about him are locked away, “Show me what you’ve thought about when you touch yourself to me and think about being my whore.”

                His cock is back in your mouth, your lips wrapped around his warmth as you take him deeper. When you gag this time, you don’t pull away and instead stop completely, trying to relax your throat around him. Hwa curses under his breath which only spurns you on more. With his cock in your mouth, your earlier anxieties about the entire situation are starting to fade, replaced by the reality of the situation – that you are here on your knees for Hwa, after all those times of watching him jerk off on streams.

                When he slips out of your mouth this time, the spit and precum drip off your chin onto your chest, running down your tits. You try to catch your breath for a couple of seconds before taking him back in your mouth, bobbing your head on his cock, taking his length deep each time.

                Hwa grunts, keeping his hips still even though you know he must want to drive his cock down your throat as fast and hard as possible. You get the sense he is holding back as to not overwhelm you, aware of your inexperience.

                You continue, not caring that you are making a big mess or that his cock is slick with your salvia and his precum. Hwa is breathing hard now which only makes you want to keep going. You’re determined to have him finish in your mouth after nights of thinking about what it would feel like to have him shoot his cum down your throat. After another moment where you gag after getting a little too excited, Hwa lets out a ragged gasp.

                Your eyes flick upwards then to see his grip on his shirt is tight, his chest rising and falling quickly. He seems to sense your gaze and looks down at you then, with your cheeks puffed out from his cock and a dollop of spit hanging off your chin.

                “Fuck, you’re gonna make me finish if you keep doing this,” He tells you, “I didn’t think you’d be such a cockwhore, gagging on me like that.”

                You slip his cock out of your mouth just enough to be able to talk, “I want you to cum in my mouth.”

                “Is that part of your fantasy?”

                “Yes.”

                “Alright, my little cockwhore, I’ll give you what you want,” Hwa goes, moving his hips a little to press the tip of his cock against your lips.

                You greedily accept him again, not caring that your tits are covered in a mess and it has probably covered your skirt too. As you slurp and suck on his cock, you drop one hand downwards underneath your skirt to press your clit through the fabric of your underwear. Hwa notices and pushes his cock down further – you can’t help yourself, you moan around him as your fingers brush your clit.

                “God, you are an absolute whore,” His voice sounds uneven and you know from watching his streams that he is close.

                You make a noise around his cock, a noise of approval, of contentment, and Hwa grunts as his cock buries itself in your throat and he begins to climax. As usual, he cums a lot, so much that it fills your mouth and makes you cough, your reflexes kicking in to pull away from him. But Hwa is still cumming, a hot strand against your chin, another one across your lips as he makes the most delicious sounds you have ever heard. Your fingers press down hard against your clit as his load fills your mouth, covers your face, gives you exactly what you have always gotten off to in the middle of the night.

                Hwa looks dazed, trying to come to his senses after the intensity of his orgasm as he tugs his boxers up. When he speaks, it is with great effort.

                “I’ll get you something to clean you up –”

                “No,” You say quickly, your voice sounding gummy from his load which you are still swallowing, “No – keep it on me.”

                The confession only seems to spark something in Hwa, who is staring at you with another expression on his face that you can’t read. He jerks his head to the direction of the bed and goes, “Get up there, if I don’t eat your cunt, I’m gonna start climbing the walls.”

                He reaches for you, helping you to your feet as your legs protest from the angle they had been in. While you get on his bed, Hwa is pulling the fishnet cover off followed by his shirt, leaving you with seeing his snake tattoo curling around his body for the first time in person. Your eyes trace the way it wraps around his torso, the manner in which the purple light of his room lays across his body. He kicks off his jeans, leaving just his boxers on. Then he is removing his rings, dropping them onto the night table. You take in the sight of every movement, so familiar but new at the same time.

                Hwa is crawling onto the bed now, tugging on your skirt. “You made a mess.”

                He isn’t wrong. Even in the low lights, you can see the skirt is covered in spit and his cum. For a split second, you are worried about how you’re going to get home and past your roommate with a skirt like this and it must show on your face because Hwa clicks his tongue piercing against the top of his mouth and reaches out for you, turning your face gently to meet his gaze.

                “No, you’re not overthinking again. I could tell there wasn’t a thought in your head except my cock just now and I’m going to take it one step further,” He is pulling your skirt off, landing in the pile of clothes on the floor, “I’m going to make my whore feel so good that there won’t be anything in your mind but pleasure. Look at how fucking soaked your underwear is,” He presses one long finger against your wet slit, the fabric damp, “You’re that turned on from sucking my cock?” You nod but Hwa shakes his head, “No, tell me.”

                “Y-yes,” Your face feels hot from the confession.

                He removes your underwear, pushing your legs apart to look at your pussy. You’ve never had anyone just look at your pussy before and you squirm underneath his gaze.

                “Your pussy is beautiful, look at how swollen and wet you are for me.” His fingers touch you now, spreading your pussy lips apart gently. “Can’t wait to have my cock in your tight hole. I’m going to just slide right in there because you’re so fucking wet.”

                You make a tiny noise and he looks up at you then. Some of his hair has fallen around his face, framing it, his eyes looking as serious as ever.

                “Tell me,” He says.

                Even though you’re embarrassed at your next request, you push through and manage to squeak out, “Will you spank it?”

                “You want me to spank your cunt?” He clarifies and when you nod, he laughs a little and replies, “Yeah, I’ll spank your cunt, whore. That something else you think about?”

                “Y-yes, with you.”

                “You think a lot of stuff about me, don’t you?”

                “Yes,” You say, shivering as Hwa brushes his fingers lightly over your pussy to tease you.

                “Because you want to be my whore. Just mine.”

                “Just yours.”

                He spanks your pussy then, a smack that isn’t too hard to make the pain blot out the pleasure. You gasp in surprise from it and Hwa spits in your hole before bringing his mouth around your clit. The sudden intensity has a loud noise escape from your mouth, louder than intended, but you are unable to help yourself. Hwa holds your legs apart as his tongue works against your clit.

                To make the pleasure borderline dizzying, you can feel his tongue piercing against it. How many times have you gotten off to such a thing? Too many to count.

                Hwa pulls away and brings his hand down sharply against your cunt again before plunging a finger into your hole. Your hips buck, a garbled noise leaving your mouth from all the different sensations occurring too quickly.

                “Fuck, you’re so wet. I didn’t think it was fucking possible to be this wet,” Hwa sounds almost gleeful as he inserts a second finger, “Hold your legs back for me like a good slut.”

                You obey, although it is difficult because everything feels so good that your hands sometimes almost slip. Spread out in front of Hwa, he brings his lips back to your clit, sucking on it hard, his tongue piercing pressed against your sensitive nub. You are making a lot of noise, pornographic noises as Hwa finger fucks you so fast that you can hear the lewd noises of your wet pussy squelching against his fingers.

                Hwa’s fingers are deep in your hole, curling upwards as he pumps them in hard and fast. His tongue flicks across your clit now. Your head rolls back, and Hwa is right – there isn’t a single thought in your head. The pleasure is too great.

                You hear him spit in your cunt before going back to your clit. He is finger banging you so hard and fast now that combined with his tongue on your clit, you’re going to cum. You try to tell him but all that leaves your mouth is gibberish.

                It must make sense to Hwa though because he goes, “I know, whore. I can tell you’re close,” His voice shakes from the force of his fingers pumping into your cunt and you can feel his eyes on you. “You’re a lot of fun to fuck, has anyone told you that? It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. I know you can’t. I can tell your brain is blank. I told you I could give you that. I never lie. You look perfect like this. You’re dangerous, you know that? I might be in love with you by the end of the night because you’re just too perfect and fuckable.”

                The words prove to be your tipping point. Your climax begins, your grip slipping on your legs as your juices gush out around Hwa’s fingers to the point where you think you’ve probably made a gigantic mess on his bed. But Hwa doesn’t seem to care and is instead making small noises of approval as you cum.

                His face is buried in between your thighs as his tongue sinks into your hole, lapping your cum up eagerly. You are breathless, your entire body warm and tingling from the intensity of the orgasm. Hwa begins to kiss upwards, along your thighs, stomach, nipples and then your neck. His skin is feverish against yours and when the next kiss begins, you succumb to him completely.

                He moves so that he is on his side, one arm along your waist as he turns you so that you’re facing him. Your tongue is in his mouth, your earlier anxiety about being with him like this long gone from how comfortable he has made you feel. The tips of his fingers trail up along your side until his hand is against your back. At the same time, he raises his knee up slowly in between your legs until your pussy is pressed against it.

                Before you can even question yourself, your body reacts accordingly and grinds down against his knee. You can feel Hwa smile against your mouth as he mumbles, “Oh, you’re a fast learner.”

                The compliment leaves you pleased, continuing to rub your swollen clit against his knee, knowing he is going to bring you to orgasm again. His room, which has always been a safe place whenever you watch him on streams, feels just as safe now, wrapped up in him.

                The movements are slower this time around, as if Hwa is aware that going with such intensity for so long is new to you. He adjusts his position to make it easier to grind against his knee, sucking hard on your neck to leave another mark.

                “Does that feel good?” He asks at one point and you manage to answer which he follows up with, “Do you want it to feel even better?”

                You are unsure how such a thing is possible but with Hwa, you’re ready to do basically anything he suggests.

                “I’m going to eat out that nice cunt of yours again while you suck on my cock,” His voice is soft, close to your ear as you rock your pussy against his knee, “Would you like to do that?”

                You’d by lying if you said no, having thought about this very position multiple times during all your fantasies. “Y-yes, I want to do that.”

                “Didn’t even have to think about it. Something you’ve thought about before then?” When you nod shyly, Hwa has that same pleased expression on his face, seeming to relish every filthy thought that has crossed your mind.

                A bit out of your element with this one, you are hesitant to sit on his face but Hwa shows no such similar feeling. As the two of you adjust positions, Hwa pulls down on your hips to bring your pussy against his face without a second thought, his tongue burying itself in your hole. The sudden intensity makes you gasp and squirm in surprise which only leads to Hwa making a sound of muffled approval.

                Trying to get your bearings while Hwa tastes your pussy, you tentatively lean forward towards his boxers. You can’t help yourself – your hands graze across his taunt stomach and along the snake tattoo with absolute relish, hardly believing that you are touching him. His muscles, always hard and on display whenever he shows off his body, are now underneath your fingers. There is no shyness with Hwa, just an enjoyment of sex, pleasure and attention which you both admire and desire at the same time.

                Lowering his boxers, Hwa’s cock springs free, heavy against his stomach. It is admittedly difficult to focus on the task at hand when Hwa’s tongue is all over your pussy although you notice he is avoiding your clit to give you time to adjust.

                Your hand wraps around his cock as you take him in your mouth for the second time tonight, somehow surpassing even your lowest expectations of how running into him could play out. As your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, Hwa moves his to your clit, making your body jerk against him reflexively. His hands glide to your hips, holding you in place while taking more of him in your mouth. You slide his length as far as it can go, maybe just overly excited to be sucking him off again, and when he hits the back of your throat, he slips out from in between your lips with a small gasp. Spit bubbles at the corners of your mouth and when you rub your hand across your lips, you leave a streak of drool and precum before taking him back in.

                At the same time, Hwa groans against your cunt as his tongue flicks across your clit for a few seconds until he switches to sucking it hard with a small popping noise when he releases his hold. The sound is lewd and he does it again, just to hear it before returning to licking the overly sensitive nub.

                One of your hands fondles his balls while sucking him, enjoying how it feels to have his cock in your mouth and how warm it is along your tongue. You bob your head on him as your spit runs down his length and onto his balls, making a mess. But you don’t stop, delirious between the pleasure of Hwa’s ministrations and his cock in your throat. He is slick with spit and precum and when Hwa flicks his tongue particularly hard, you end up taking more of him, gagging around it but keeping him still in your mouth. You try to relax your throat, letting him fill you up in a way that you’ve only dreamt about.

                Hwa grunts, lifting his hips up just enough so that you choke around his cock again. This time you pull back and his cock slips out from in between your lips, lubricated with a mess of salvia and his precum. Wrapping your hand around his dick, feeling the warmth in your hand, you jerk him off. Your hand slips across his skin easily and you can tell he is close to cumming again.

                So are you, for the matter, since Hwa has his face buried in your pussy and the pleasure he is experiencing doesn’t seem to slow him down for a second versus yourself. He sucks on your clit hard, his hands gripping your hips so that you can’t squirm away.

                Unable to help yourself, your pussy grinds against his face. He seems to be getting off on being smothered by you, not stopping for a second, chasing your orgasm more than his own. You stop jerking him off to swallow his cock, taking as much as you can just as your climax begins. Your moans are a wet garbled mess against his cock. The pleasure is so intense that you know you’re making a mess all over Hwa’s beautiful face. But it seems to be the very thing that makes him finish as well. With one final buck of his slender hips, he is cumming once more in your mouth. From the angle this time, the cum spills out from in between your lips, down across his length as you try to swallow as much as the hot load that you can.

                When you finally pull your head off his cock, your legs feel like jelly and every nerve in your body feels overstimulated. Gingerly rolling off him, you collapse onto the bed and give a small shake of your head, closing your eyes and panting, “Need a break.”

                “Are you okay?” Hwa asks, sounding just as dazed as you feel.

                “Y-yeah, just…haven’t had…this many orgasms so close together and done this much in such a short amount of time,” You manage to say in between catching your breath.

                He rearranges himself so that he is laying next to you, also panting quietly. You can’t even imagine how you both look, a mess of sex and cum swathed in purple hues. For a while, neither of you speak. Your entire body is tingling, your legs like jelly. Typically, you weren’t one for just openly laying naked to someone after fooling around, usually wanting to run and cover yourself.

                But you feel at ease with Hwa, which surprises you given the fact you have been lusting and daydreaming about him for so long through a screen. Hwa, of course, gives no thought to being openly naked. You doubt he has ever experienced a moment of self consciousness in his entire life.

                He rolls onto his side to face you, staring at you with cat eyes in the dark. You tilt your face in his direction. The butterflies that had been sleeping through all the various forms of oral sex and fingering that occurred are now starting to stir.

                Some of Hwa’s hair sticks to his forehead, his lithe body draped across the sheets, the snake curling across his side and disappearing onto his back. His lips are slightly swollen and you know he is smeared in your cum but he doesn’t seem to care. He is entirely at ease, forever comfortable in his skin.

                You turn onto your side as well, close enough to touch him but neither reaches out for one another. In the silence of his room, you can hear that the storm must have begun at some point during all the sex but you hadn’t even noticed.

                “What is it?” You ask nervously, unsure why he is looking at you in that way.

                “Does it make you uncomfortable if I look at you?”

                You think for a moment before answering, “No. I just get nervous.”

                “Why?”

                “I don’t know. You might change your mind about what we are doing.”

                “You think we’ve literally and figuratively come this far and I will decide not to fuck you?”

                “Maybe.”

                He laughs quietly as if the entire suggestion is hilarious. His hand brushes across your side up along your arm. The touch is as light as a feather but you feel it down in your core.

                “No, I’m having too much fun with you,” He replies, “You weren’t thinking, were you? Earlier.”

                “No, I wasn’t,” You admit, “True to your words.”

                Hwa props himself up a little to look at you. His gaze is enough to melt you into the mattress. His hand presses softly onto your side so that you lay down on your back, looking upwards at him. His fingertips trail down across your stomach, making you shiver. He seems to be mentally filing away everything that elicits a reaction from you.

                You reach upwards for him, pulling Hwa towards your body so that your lips are on his. His hair is bunched up in your hands as the kiss deepens. You can taste yourself on his lips; can he taste himself on yours? When the kiss ends, your hands move down his back, across the warm skin there. His eyes are a heavy thing on your body as you cast a look downward at his.

                Your fingers are moving along his snake tattoo, something you have seen so many times on your phone screen now in front of you. Your hands trace the way it moves down from his shoulder, admiring the way it lays across his hips up to his stomach.

                You are fairly confident that Hwa somehow knows what you’re thinking about and that is why he doesn’t speak, content to let you touch him like this.

                That’s when the power goes out, the lightning flashing brightly through the closed window and the thunder making the walls rattle, ushering in darkness. The purple light which you have grown so accustomed to over both the camera and reality is snuffed out like a flame.

                “Oh,” You say quietly in surprise.

                Hwa’s hold on your side tightens for a second to reassure you that he is still there. Once again you are pulling him back down for a kiss. His lips still find yours in the darkness, his tongue in your mouth as he angles his body to press against yours. A sizzle seems to shoot up your spine – it is as if the darkness makes it easier to speak, to think, without seeing Hwa directly and having that attention on you.

                Hwa’s hands are running across your body, touching you all over carefully, waiting for you to signal that you’re ready to keep going. His lips are back on your neck as he nibbles there, adding more marks to the collection. Emboldened by the darkness, your hand covers one of his and pulls it upward toward your neck.

                He pauses, lifting his head up from your neck. You can feel his steady breath against your skin, can hear the low timber of his voice against the backdrop of the storm when he goes, “Tell me.”

                “Squeeze my neck,” You murmur and Hwa does so, his hand tightening around your skin.

                Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation. He is so close to you now that your body is starting to scream for him once more but he seems content to keep you lusting for him in the darkness.

                “Do you like that?”

                You nod, knowing he can feel the motion.

                “You like being treated like this by me?”

                Another nod.

                His breathing is changing. Subtle, just enough for you to realize how much he is enjoying how you submit to him, that you’ve touched yourself to him doing these things to you before the two of you even met.

                “You really are just a perfect little whore,” Hwa says, releasing his hold just enough for you to sharply inhale and then he tightens once more, “It’s a shame I can’t see you right now, see how beautiful you look with my hand around your neck.”

                He lets go, fully removing his boxers, the ruffle of fabric as it is tossed onto the floor before he shifts onto your body. It is an intoxicating sensation to have him skin to skin and your hands curl around his shoulders as your legs wrap around his small waist.

                His cock is hard pressing against your thigh. The next kiss is messier, his spit in your mouth, his entire being taking over all your senses. Unable to see him, you have to go off the other senses like the small grunt of approval he makes when you arch your hips in a silent plea to fuck you and the ragged change of his breathing.

                Hwa slips inside you easily from all the orgasms, your pussy slick with your wetness and his spit. He fills you to the hilt, his hips meeting yours as you take his entire cock in one swift motion. Your head rolls back, a moan toppling from in between your swollen lips as your hold onto his shoulder tightens.

                He curls around your body, gripping the sheets next to your head as he slowly thrusts in your cunt. You no longer feel like yourself but instead as a being intertwined with Hwa so that your senses overlap with one another. Hwa curses quietly and bites down on your earlobe, giving it a sharp tug with his teeth.

                “My whore,” He growls in your ear with a sort of lust you’ve never heard from anyone else before especially directed at you, “You feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

                His lips find yours and you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth which elicits a groan of approval of him. The kiss deepens, his tongue is in your mouth, and you can feel some spit getting on your chin. You don’t even know who it belongs to and you don’t care. You’re bucking your hips to meet his ever quickening thrusts, your bodies growing hot together as the fucking continues.

                “Say it again,” You plead in a broken voice and you don’t need to clarify what you’re asking to be repeated.

                “My whore,” He grunts and thrusts particularly hard, driving his cock deeper in your soaking wet cunt, “You going to let me fuck you again after this? No more needing to watch my streams, I’ll fuck you into my fucking mattress any time you want.”

                The words are too good to be true and you hope he isn’t just saying them because of how turned on he is. Your reply is a broken plea, half gibberish, half words and Hwa pushes away from you, grabbing your legs and bringing your feet onto his shoulders.

                He leans forward, folding you like a doll as his hips snap against yours at a brisk pace. Your pussy is obscenely wet and you can hear it even if you cannot see him. Unable to hold onto Hwa, your hands grip the bedsheets so hard that they might tear.

                “Hwa,” You gasp out and he knows – he knows because his hands are back around your neck and he’s fucking you into the bed, squeezing your throat while pounding into your cunt.

                “You like when I choke you like this, you little whore? I know you do. I don’t even need to see your face to know how much you love it. I can tell by how your pussy tightens around me, by your whimpers and moans,” He says in an unsteady voice, sounding like sandpaper as his own orgasm draws just as close as yours, “Fuck, your pussy feels so good. Where do you want my load? You already took two of them down your throat, my slut.”

                Hwa lets go of your neck but his pace is relentless. You are seconds away from finishing but manage to gasp out, “In my pussy, finish in my pussy. Choke me while I cum.”

                Hwa, just like the rest of the night, where he has maintained the illusion of control while you’ve been the one in command, obeys. His hands are back where they belong and with one final thrust, you’re climaxing yet again.

                “F-fuck,” He grunts, “You’re too tight clamping down on me like that –” His hands are off your neck, gripping the bed sheets next to your head once again.

                Hwa shudders as he unloads in your cunt, filling you up with his warmth as you rock your hips against him, making sure that every drop of his cum is inside you. The two of you are making a ton of noise together as the final climax of the night goes on. Hwa pulls away from you so that your legs flop against the bed and his hands move to your back, pressing you against him.

                He is kissing you as your climax winds down. Your bodies are slick with sweat, a collection of limbs wrapped around one another as if one of you, both of you, are afraid to lose each other in the darkness. As your intense orgasm begins to subside, Hwa lowers his head against your chest. The sound of your panting fills your ears; it feels as if you just ran a race.

                Perfectly timed, the power returns. The purple light fills the room, making you wince as your eyes grow adjusted to the soft hue. Hwa carefully untangles himself from you, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair. His back is to you, the snake once again in your clear view.

                His cum is smeared against your thighs, leaking out from in between your folds. You have never had this many orgasms in one night before and your entire body is exhausted.

                Hwa slips out of the bed, opening the door and leaving, giving no care to his nakedness on display. You can see a light flick on in the kitchen, spilling into the narrow hallway as he rummages around for water. When he returns, he has two bottles as he shuts the door again before getting back into bed.

                You prop yourself up, uncapping the water and drinking half of it promptly. Hwa finishes his entire bottle in a few gulps before turning his attention to you, who is now preoccupied with trying to get the sheet to cover up your body a bit.

                “Getting modest on me?” He asks, still slightly of breath.

                Your face grows warm at his words, grows warmer when he moves closer to you, draped out across the bed. Now that you can see him again, and his full attention is on you with no buffer, you feel shy – utterly ridiculous given what you just spent ages doing with him.

                “Did you mean what you said?” You ask suddenly.

                He raises one eyebrow, and distantly you think he would look good with a piercing there too. “Be a little more specific?”

                Your grip tightens around the water bottle and it crackles a little from the pressure. “About us doing this again. About me being your….” You trail off, swallowing hard.

                Hwa breaks out in a slow grin and goes, “Yeah, I meant it. I think we could have a lot of fun together,” He hesitates, the first time since meeting him, and adds, “I think it could be more than fun, if you understand what I mean.”

                You did and it is enough to capitulate your heart into the stratosphere. He leans forward and his lips are against yours in the softest kiss of the night. The hold on the water bottle lessens as you melt into it, into him. His hands are on your cheeks, thumbs brushing your skin. When the kiss breaks, there is a shifting of energy that feels almost like a release of all the tension and anxiety that has bubbled in your chest ever since you stumbled into his stream all that time ago.

                “My little whore,” Hwa says so affectionally that it feels like a cosmic shift in the usage of the word forever.

                And he kisses you again.

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#ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fics #ateez fics #kpop fic #attention #500 notes #1000 notes #1500 notes #2000 notes #2500 notes

[asahicore]

bad news first - sjy (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. From the moment you'd met at eight to the day he moved to South Korea at fourteen, you and Jake were inseparable. But after years of being apart, you've come to terms with the fact that at twenty, you and Jake just aren't what you used to be. That is until you get a text from him, and all of a sudden, he's back by your side, doing his year abroad at the university you study at, and all your feelings for him float back up to the surface. genre. college au, childhood friends to ???? to lovers, painful mutual pining, one bed trope..... a sprinkle of angst (my hand slipped) but mostly fluff i promise and smut (mdni!!!), also i made sunghoon really weird in this and idkw, this is set in scotland.. edinburgh uni rep!! word count. 23k author's note. everybody say happy belated birthday to @zreamy.. happy belated birthday zo!!! being 22 years and 6 days old is cooler than just 22 years old anyway.. hope you like it bestie... if you dont... well theres a building on campus thats 17 stories high sooo.. enjoy! i hope everyone else enjoys too, since this is a bday fic for zo she couldnt beta read so i had to raw dog this so if its terrible.. not my fault! lmk what u think!! i also made a playlist for this, do listen along!!

“Alright kids, good news or bad news first?”

You looked at your teacher, then at the boy next to you, then back at your teacher. “Bad news first,” you said in unison.

You were only eight, but you were both wise enough to know that hearing good news second would assuage the blow of whatever these bad news were. Miss Dawson sighed as she crouched in front of you. “The bad news is your bus driver is on strike and won’t be coming. The good news is that your parents have been informed and are coming to pick you up soon.”

Following her instructions, you headed to the gymnasium and sat there silently among the other kids. Not many kids in your class rode the bus home, and the ones who did seemed to have drivers not on strike, so it was just the two of you. You were used to that, though - over January and February, you had made a sort of silent pact to stand and wait for the bus together. You sometimes shared snacks, but you never spoke. For some reason, you felt at ease with this boy, even though you didn’t know much about him. You had heard he had moved to Brisbane just at the start of this year, all the way from South Korea. You were pretty sure his name was Jake.

You handed him one of your Twix bars. Then he spoke. “I thought a strike was when you did really well in bowling.”

“Same,” you replied, mouth full of chocolate and caramel. “I’m not sure why that would keep the bus driver from picking us up.”

Jake looked at you with wide eyes, distress clear in them. “Do you think he went bowling instead of picking us up?”

This made you frown. “That’d be really rude.”

“It would. I always make sure to go bowling on the weekends, ‘cause if I missed school that’d be rude to Miss Dawson.”

You nodded your head in fervent agreement. “For sure.”

That weekend, his mum called your mum to ask if you wanted to go to the bowling alley with them. From then on, for the next six years, you were stuck together by glue. 

--

Twelve years later, Jake’s name appearing on your phone screen has become such a rare sight, you don’t believe it right away. It takes you a few seconds of intense squinting at the letters to actually realise your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

jake.sim15 hey y/n!! you go to edinburgh uni right?

You type and delete three different responses before settling for a simple yeah, I am! what’s up?, hoping you sounded nonchalant even though you very much felt chalant. You thought that whatever you sent wouldn’t be as weird as taking forever to answer such a straightforward question. 

As you wait for Jake’s reply, you scroll through your previous shared messages, noting with sadness that for three years in a row, the only instances you’d texted were to wish each other a happy birthday or when he reacted with a fire emoji to Stories of your dog, Milo. Before that, your last conversation was to congratulate each other about getting into your top choice universities and to discuss plans for your respective futures.

Futures that used to include each other, you think. His reply appears at the bottom of your screen before melancholy can fill your heart.

jake.sim15 i applied to go there for my year abroad next year annnnd i got in !! heh

You shoot up straight from your seat on the lounge chaise you’d been sunbathing on, a loud “Oh my God!” involuntarily escaping your mouth. 

“What? What happened? Is everything okay?” Chaewon asks frantically, rushing over to your side. “Oh,” she says when she sees your phone. “It’s a text… from a boy?” 

This makes Yunjin, previously unbothered by your panic, rise from her seat and take off her sunglasses. “A boy? Show me,” she demands, snatching your phone from your hands before you can protest. Upon seeing the texts on your screen, she lets out a loud gasp. “It’s not just any boy! It’s the one and only Jake Sim himself.”

“Give that back!” you plead, hand reaching for your phone, but Yunjin is already walking away.

“And he’s coming to Edi this September, apparently. He says he’s sorry for not saying anything earlier, but he was waiting for an answer up until now.” She scoffs. “Leave it to our uni to tell someone they’re in less than two months before term starts. Oh, you’re the first person he’s told, Y/N! After his parents. How cute,” she coos, protesting when you snatch your phone back from her. “Hey! I was reading that.”

“Those are my texts, Yunjin. I’m the one who’s meant to read them.”

She shrugs. “You would’ve told us anyway.”

“What are you going to reply?” Chaewon asks. With the both of them hovering over your shoulders and watching as you type a response, a sort of stage fright comes over you, making you send what might be the most unoriginal reply known to man.

“Awesome? Seriously, Y/N?” Yunjin reads, disproportionately disgusted with you.

“That’s a lot of exclamation marks. It almost makes it look like you don’t mean it,” Chaewon says.

“I do mean it!”

“Well, he seems to like it. A smiling-with-teeth emoji is a good sign, right?” she asks in an attempt to make you feel better.

“He has automatic caps off. That man is run-through,” Yunjin says, shaking her head as she walks back to her sunbed.

“You were excited about him texting me just a second ago,” you reproach.

“Yeah, before I found out he was a whore.”

“Yunjin, you know we don't slut-shame here!” Chaewon exclaims. Before Yunjin can say anything even worse in response, your phone starts ringing, and Jake’s name appears on your screen. “He’s calling you?” Chaewon gasps, making Yunjin sit up with a start for the second time in less than five minutes.

“This man is insane,” she remarks with all the seriousness in the world.

You run away from your friends, finding refuge in the outside kitchen area out of earshot. They don’t need to hear your conversation with Jake. You love them, but they can be weirdly unsupportive in moments like these.

“Hey, Jake,” you greet, hoping he doesn’t notice the breathlessness in your voice. It was because you had just ran, of course - you didn’t want him to think you were so nervous about talking to him after such a long time, you could barely breathe. Because you weren’t. At all.

“Hey, Y/N!” he replies, and the excitement in his voice makes your heart melt. “I hope it’s not weird that I called, I just thought it’d be nicer than texting, is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s nice to hear your voice,” you say before you can really think about it, and cringe at your own words. Years without talking and the world’s worst line is the first thing you say to Jake. Thankfully, before you start excruciating yourself, a chuckle pours out of Jake’s throat and blesses your ears.

“It’s nice to hear your voice, too. What are you up to?” 

“Oh, I’m on vacation with my friends. One of them has a rich aunt who owns a villa in southern Italy, so we’re just chilling by the pool right now.” 

“You always wanted to go to Italy! That sounds so nice,” he says. Your breath catches gently in your throat - he remembers, you note.

“Yeah, it really is. What about you, how are you spending the summer?”

Jake tells you about the local bookstore owned by a grandpa that’s always had a soft spot for him and that gave him a part-time job for the summer. “I’m trying to save up as much money as I can before I leave. If I treat you to a meal, will you show me around the city?” he asks, and you can hear the grin in his voice. It makes you realise how much you’ve actually missed him.

“You don’t need to treat me to a meal, I’ll show you around anyway.” 

Still, he insists, and you find yourself giving in quickly - because it’s Jake or because free food is on the table, you’re not sure. Probably both. 

You and Jake get to talking, but fitting years and years of catching up into one conversation is an impossible task, and before you know it, when you check your phone, you’ve been talking for over an hour. Yunjin is angrily waving at you, pointing at her stomach to indicate hunger like a caveman who’s just learned how to communicate. You apologise to Jake, telling him you have to go, and plan to meet during fresher’s week before you hang up.

A few hours later, you get a text from him saying it was nice talking to you and jokingly asking whether Yunjin was satisfied with lunch. It’s innocuous, but it opens a gate for more texting, which leads to long, rambling voice messages, which leads to late-night phone calls that remind you of when you were fifteen and still kept in touch. When August fades into September, you feel like you’ve got your best friend back. 

You remember why you were so in love with him at fourteen.

--

You see Jake before he sees you.  

Among the throngs of people, you manage to spot the dark, messy flop of hair on his head weighed down by a nice pair of wireless headphones. After a thirteen-hour flight from Seoul, a four-hour layover in Frankfurt and a final, two-hour flight to Edinburgh, he looks rightfully exhausted, using what looks like the last of his energy to spot the exit and the airport bus stop. Even wearing a simple denim jacket, white tee and grey sweatpants, he’s so gorgeous you forget what you came here for, until he almost walks right past you without seeing you. You put yourself in his path and hold your hand-written banner up, making yourself as obvious as you can as you call out his name. 

When he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks for a second, someone almost running into him before he remembers the crowd behind him. His tired features break out into a bright smile that has your heartbeat speeding up so much, you think it might run out of your chest. 

He had told you not to come, that it would be late for you and he didn’t want to bother you, but you had managed to get the information of his arrival before he forbade you from picking him up so you did it anyway, wanting to surprise him. After years of being apart, rather than waiting another day, you wanted to see him as soon as possible.

Jake briskly makes his way to you, dropping his bags next to him on the floor as he engulfs you in a hug, warm and tight as if he’s trying to make up for all those years. You hug him back as if someone would appear out of thin air and take him away from you again.

“This was the longest day of my life, I’m so happy to see you,” he says when he pulls away, and you’re so happy you can’t even say anything back, resorting to giggling and lightly swatting non-existent dust off of his shoulders. 

As you wait for the bus, he tells you about every trivial thing that happened to him on his trip, from how expensive a sandwich is at the airport to the German kid sitting in front of him that kept turning around to stare at him on his second flight.

“How did you know he was German?” you ask, amused.

Jake pauses. “Just vibes.”

Conversation on the bus is slightly disjointed as you jump from topic to topic with random pauses here and there before one of you finds something to talk about - but it’s okay, you hadn’t expected for the two of you to be as easy as before. It’s more awe at seeing each other after such a long time than awkwardness. Even though you’d caught up over summer, there was a world of difference between speaking on the phone and actually sitting next to him. You notice things like the shine of his hair, the creases that form on the sides of his lips when he smiles, or, unfortunately for you, the veins that run along his forearms and hands - things you hadn’t noticed previously thanks to the sometimes questionable quality of the front camera of his phone. Once in a while, your thigh brushes against his, and it reminds you that he’s really here. Even that he’s real, at all. 

In a tragic turn of events, Jake lives in the student accommodation you used to live in in first year, and coming back to it two years later is slightly traumatising. His three-person flat is in a different building as your old one, and you marvel at how it somehow still smells the same - like dusty, decade-old carpeting and the permanent stench of students’ dubitable cooking. He’s the first one to move in, which makes the place slightly eerie, but it means that you’re not bothering anyone by unpacking Jake’s stuff and cooking Shin Ramyun the previous tenants had left behind at 11pm. 

Your late dinner was meant for you to take a small break, watch a couple episodes of Friends which Jake had been shocked to learn you’d never watched, and you had been shocked to learn he was a die-hard fan of (since one year ago), then get back to unpacking. But the ramen sends an already exhausted Jake into a food coma so intense, he falls asleep on your shoulder five minutes into the second episode. 

You let him sleep as long as he needs, turning the volume down on his laptop and stifling your chuckles as much as you can. You feel like a cat has fallen asleep in your lap - you are now obliged by law to stay still until Jake wakes up. It’s not until an hour later that Jake’s uncomfortable sleeping position forces him awake, lifting his head off of your shoulder with a grunt. He looks around himself, at his room that’s not quite familiar to him yet, then at you, eyes still scrunched with sleepiness as a grin blooms onto his lips.

“Sorry,” clearing his throat of its grogginess. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one a.m,” you reply, and his eyes go wide.

“You should’ve woken me up! Does your shoulder hurt?” he asks, much more alarmed than he should be, and it makes you laugh.

“It’s all good. But now that you’re awake, I should probably head home.” 

“I’ll get you an Uber,” he says, already pulling out his phone. 

“It’s fine, Jake, my place is a ten-minute walk from here. I live just up the road.”

Jake’s fingers on his phone pause as he looks up at you. “Then I’ll walk you home.” He lifts a finger in warning when he sees you start to protest. “And don’t fight me on this. You did so much today, it’s the least I can do.”

As much as you love the idea of spending more time with Jake, even if it’s just ten minutes, you still don’t want to bother him when you know how tired he is. “It’s really safe around here. I can just text you when I’m home, if you’re worried about me getting kidnapped or something,” you say, taking his jacket from his hands and placing it back on his desk chair.

He grabs it back, putting it on before you can take it from him again, and rummages through one of his suitcases for a black, woolly scarf. Neither of you speaks as he wraps it tight around your neck, even though the early September weather isn’t cold enough to warrant it. His hands stop briefly on the scarf and a small smile spreads on his lips. You hope he doesn’t hear your sharp intake of breath when your eyes meet. “It’s not about that,” he says simply, voice low and unlike you’ve ever heard it before. You don’t think his voice had quite finished cracking when he’d moved away back then. 

Suddenly, he steps away, grabs his keys, and heads for the door. “Let’s go!” he says, voice back to its usual cheery tone. You don’t find it in you to question him, so you just follow him out, welcoming the night breeze that cools down your burning cheeks with open arms. 

The walk to your place is mostly done in comfortable silence, but it still goes by too quickly for your liking. You keep your hands in your pockets to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like reaching out for Jake’s hand that swishes back-and-forth as he walks. Instead, you bury your nose in his scarf and relish in the unfamiliar but comforting smell that his cologne has left behind on the fabric. You hug goodbye when you reach your flat, and you have to remind yourself to let go. He insists on you keeping the scarf. “My mum packed me, like, three, so you can have that one.” 

“Your mum still pack your things for you, does she?” you ask, tone playful.

“No-” he says, voice slightly whiny, before he realises you’re just teasing him. “Whatever,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You hope the streetlights aren’t bright enough for him to notice the flustered look on your face. The both of you stand there awkwardly for a second, before he lets out another chuckle. “Right. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you beam.

“Okay,” he says, but still doesn’t make a move to leave. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll be off then.” He gives you one last smile then turns around, burying his hands in his pockets, and you watch as he walks away.

“Get home safe,” you call out after a few seconds. 

He pivots on his heels, and, with a wave of his hand, says, “I will! Go inside.”

“Good night!”

“Night, Y/N!”

When you walk into your living room, Yunjin is sitting on the couch, arms crossed over her chest, gaze trained on the wall opposite her, one lamp lighting the otherwise completely dark room. She looks like a detective in one of those bad cop shows.

“Gosh, what’s all this for?”

“You’re back awfully late,” she says, neither looking at you nor answering your question.

“Yeah, I was with Jake,” you shrug, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. She abruptly gets up from her seat, following you into the other room and staying close behind you.

“And?” she demands, mouth way too close to your ear and making you start.

“And what?” you ask. 

“What do you mean and what?!” she says, clearly agitated. “I want to know everything!”

“There’s nothing to say, really. He seemed happy I picked him up from the airport, then I helped him unpack. He lives in Riego, by the way.”

“Ew.”

“I know, it was awful going back there.”

The two of you stare at each other as you drink your water. “Well?” she asks.

“What?”

“Is that it?”

You fill your glass again to take it into your bedroom. “I don’t know, we just ate and watched Friends.”

“You hate shows with laughing tracks,” she states like it’s an accusation.

“It wasn’t actually that bad,” you reply, shrugging.

She tuts. “Love will do ugly, ugly things to a person.”

“You’ve been in a loving relationship for the past two years.”

“This isn’t about me. Can we talk about how you’re still in love with the same loser from when you were ten?”

“I was fourteen, and don’t call Jake a loser when you haven’t even met him.” You ignore the roll of her eyes. “And I’m not. Not anymore. I’m just happy to have my friend back.” Yunjin gives you a look. “Okay, maybe I’m still a little bit in love with him. But it’s so little, it’s barely there.” Her expression is unchangingly unimpressed and you can’t help but throw in the towel. “Alright, fine. I still love him, what about it?”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I know that, no need to remind me.”

“Are you gonna do something about it?”

“My patheticness? I’ve tried, didn’t really work.”

“No, idiot, about Jake. You should go and get him! It’d be so sexy if you got together as 20-somethings after knowing each other since you were babies.”

“We were eight when we met. And I don’t know if sexy is the word I’d use here.”

“Anything is sexy if you try hard enough,” she says, and you have to laugh. “Anyways, you should confess your undying love and tell him you’ve felt that way since you met.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Guys might not show it, but they probably get all hot for stuff like that. Boosts their ego and shit.”

“Yunjin, I just got my friend back, I’m not gonna risk it. Plus, who knows, I might not actually be in love with him. It might just be my emotions acting up, like, seeing someone I used to like after a while. We’ve both changed so much, once I get to know him more now, I might not even feel the way I used to.”

“Notice how you’ve used the word might twice in ten seconds? You’re just trying to find excuses.”

You groan. “This is why I hate English Lit people.”

“You do English Lit.”

“I know, and I’m the only nice person that does it.” In your head, you add and Jake, but saying it out loud would only make this conversation worse for you.

“What’s that scarf, by the way? Did he give you that?”

You look down at the scarf like it’s a piece of incriminating evidence. “Can you stop grilling me, please? It’s late.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You sighed deeply. “Fine. Yes, he gave me-”

“It’s not even that cold outside!” she exclaimed in an outrage. “Don’t tell me he also walked you home?”

You pause. “He did.”

She gasped. “He walked you home because he’s in love with you.”

“He walked me home because he’s a good friend that looks after me.”

“He walked you home because he realised how hot you’ve gotten and he wants some of that.”

All you can do is sigh. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

“If you weren’t such a coward, you wouldn’t be going to bed alone.”

“Whatever!” you say, shutting the door behind you, shaking that preposterous conversation out of your head. When you get into bed, it takes you at least half-an-hour before you can settle down, but you know your constant tossing and turning isn’t due to your inability to find a comfortable enough position to sleep in. Between your evening with Jake and Yunjin’s pestering, thoughts run wild and incoherent through your head. 

You want to tell her every little thing that happened with Jake tonight, but you’re afraid it might do you more harm than good. She is most definitely the type of friend who will take the smallest action a guy did for you or the most meaningless thing he might have said and turn it into a sign that he has the hots for you, which usually does wonders for your confidence, but right now, you don’t need that kind of delusion. Did seeing your childhood best friend you used to secretly harbour feelings for make you feel some type of way? Of course, but that doesn’t mean you still love him after all this time, after six years of being apart, the majority of those years spent with no contact. It wasn’t like you parted ways with resentment, or anything of that sort, far from it; rather, you drifted apart naturally, as two teenagers with over 7000 kilometres between them would. At first, you’d call frequently and even write each other letters - but as you became more preoccupied with school, friends, and extracurriculars, your phones gradually rang less and your mailboxes became gradually emptier. You don’t even remember who sent the last, unanswered letter. 

Tonight isn’t the first time you replay the moment Jake announced that he would go away, but it’s the first time it’s a bittersweet memory. It used to only be bitter - but now that you’ve reconnected, you can look back at it with fondness, wishing you could tell fourteen-year-old you the hurt would only last so long. 

It hadn’t started unusually.

“So, bad news first, right?”

In your six years of friendship with Jake, this had been the first time you’d really been wary of what he would say next. The look on his face told you that this bad news wouldn’t be as easy to shake off as usual. Your definition of bad news was things like I got grounded so I can’t hang out, I forgot we had a test tomorrow so I can’t hang out, my allergies are acting up again so I can’t hang out.

“I’m moving to Korea next month.”

I’m on another continent, so I can’t hang out.

You remember the words not quite making sense at the time. “Oh? How long are you staying there?” you said, taking a bite of your strawberry ice cream which Jake had insisted on paying for, even though you knew he didn’t get much allowance.

“Forever.”

You stopped chewing, and the ice cream melted uncomfortably in your mouth. You don’t know how long you stayed there, frozen as you stared at your best friend in disbelief. It wasn’t until he lightly shoved your shoulder, only meeting your eyes for a split second, that you remembered to swallow and to say something.

“Forever as in… You won’t live here anymore? At all?”

Jake shook his head. He kept his eyes trained on the vanilla-chocolate ice cream sandwich he’d left in its wrapper. In the blazing hot Brisbane summer, it had probably fully melted two minutes ago. “At all.”

“Oh,” was all you found yourself able to say. For some reason, you hoped that continuing to eat your ice cream would stop you from crying, but to no avail. Hot, salty tears quickly started raining down your cheeks, mixing with the sweetness of your ice cream when they reached your lips. 

“It’s my dad’s work. Same reason why I moved here when we were kids in the first place. They wanted him here then, they want him back there now. We just have to follow,” Jake explained, sounding just as upset as you felt.

“Right.”

“Are you mad at me?” Jake asked, worry clear in his voice, and finally turned to face you. At the sight of you crying, he let out a small oh, tears of his own pooling in his eyes.

You frowned. “Of course not. I’m never mad at you, you know that. I just… You’re my best friend, Jakey. It’s gonna be so lame around here without you.”

“It’ll be lame there without you, too.”

You attempted a smile. “Well, of course. But at least you’ll get to make new friends, see new places. You’ll be in a whole other country, I’m sure you’ll have fun there. I’m gonna be stuck in boring old Brisbane for the foreseeable future.”

“Do you know how offended our friends would be if they heard you speaking right now?” he asked, nudging your shoulder with his.

You sniffled and let out a chuckle. “They’re all great, but… I don’t like them nearly as much as I like you,” you said, staring down at your hands, hoping he wouldn’t realise exactly what you meant by that statement.

A weight was lifted off of your shoulders when Jake answered. “I like you the most too, Y/N.” You tried not to think too much about whether he’d meant it platonically or romantically - none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was the feeling of his arms around you, his warmth enveloping your whole body, his familiar scent that you already missed. 

You felt him take a deep breath against you before he pulled away. He sniffled and did his best to put on a smile. “Right, enough of that. I’m not leaving until next month, so don’t think you’re rid of me just yet,” he joked, and it helped alleviate the weight on your heart, even if just a little. “You said you had something to tell me? Good news after bad news, and all that.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot about that.”

You thought for a second. Today was the day you had planned to confess your feelings to Jake - you’d only told him you had good news to share. But what was the point now that he was leaving? If he felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if he didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.

Jake tilted his head, waiting for you to speak. In a split second, you made yourself forget your disappointment over having built the courage to tell him how you felt only for it all to fall through, and resolved to make the most of Jake’s last month here. You wiped your tears and mirrored his small smile as best you could. “Um, it wasn’t anything much. My mum made those cowboy cookies you like.”

Jake’s head fell back as he groaned in anticipation. “If she wasn’t happily married with three kids, I’d marry your mum. Let’s go right now.”

You laughed. “There’d be a bit of an age gap there.”

“We’d make it work,” Jake joked, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you walked towards your house. He beamed down at you, his bright, boyish smile that you loved to bits, and you beamed up at him as you grabbed the hand that hung off your shoulder in your own.

You walked as happily as you could. “Do you even speak Korean?” you suddenly asked.

Jake halted abruptly in his steps, a gravely offended look on his face. When you looked back at him in confusion, he rolled his eyes and started walking again, pulling you with him. “It’s literally my mother tongue, Y/N. I speak it every day at home.”

“Oh, right.”

At the time, you thought nothing could come between you and Jake. Not anyone, not anything, neither distance nor time. But they did. A week after he’d left, a boy from your class you’d talked to maybe once or twice asked you out on a date. You weren’t sure why, but you said yes. Then you said yes to being his girlfriend, even though you didn’t like him all that much, and you even said yes to reducing your texting with Jake because it made him jealous. When you’d broken up with him and wanted to catch up with Jake and apologise for your absence, you’d found that his new school in Seoul was a lot more demanding than yours in Brisbane, and he had to spend most of his evenings in academies if he wanted to get into a nice university. It’s when you learned that he’d be staying in South Korea for college that you decided to leave Australia too. Brisbane was a lot less fun without him there - why bother staying? You couldn’t go to him because of the language barrier and the cost of university there. If you were to essentially uproot your life, might as well go somewhere you could get a scholarship and understand the people around you. 

It seemed insane that someone you had thought would be by your side for the rest of your life, someone that was part of your most cherished memories, had been reduced to someone you casually texted once in a while. It seems even more insane that now that you’re finally done essentially grieving your friendship with Jake, he stands in front of you again, six inches taller but still donning those puppy-like eyes and smile of his.

For your sake, you just hoped you wouldn’t be as in love with him at twenty as you were at fourteen.

--

The next day, you show Jake around campus, which wouldn’t normally take more than ten minutes, but takes double that time because of the sheer amount of people there. Between the Societies Fair taking up most of the square, the tour guides leading freshers, walking slowly and taking in their new campus, and the pizza and drinks stands, freshers’ week always turns campus into what feels like the busiest place on Earth. You try not to let it hit a nerve for Jake’s sake, who’s clearly ecstatic at all the activity, but you like this place a lot more when it’s quieter. You walk through the Fair, laughing as Jake marvels at all the different clubs and societies at the Uni. 

“Gardening Society? Dungeons & Dragons Society? Wine society?” he exclaims, astonishment growing with every passing stand.

“And this is only the first day. They also have a Taylor Swift Society.” He grabs a flyer from about every society, even though you know he’ll join between two to zero of them. 

When you walk out, there’s a girl handing out samples of shampoo and conditioner, and you let her give you one, more out of politeness than anything. 

“These are so useless,” you start, and Jake chuckles, unaware of the incoming rant. “I had that job of distributing them last year, and we would get a tip if we gave them all out. So naturally I put a bunch in my bag, but then I had to use them for like two weeks.” You sigh. “First of all, my hair did not like it. And second, the ratio is so off. There’s way more conditioner than shampoo when it should be the other way around, so you have to condition your hair even though it’s not properly clean. So stupid.”

“Sounds terrible,” Jake says, laughing. “Is that why you’re not doing it this year?”

“Oh… Not really. I dated the guy that takes care of this promo stuff, so it would’ve been kinda awkward…” you trail, immediately wishing you could backtrack on conversation. Talking about your ex with Jake wasn’t on your to-do list for today. Or ever.

“You dated your boss?”

“The manager, yeah, I guess. He was only 24, though, don’t worry.”

“I’m more worried about the power imbalance than the age gap there.”

You shrug, looking down at your shoes. “It’s not like he was that high up.”

“So, what happened? Why did you break up?”

“Well, he acted like our four-year age difference meant he could treat me like a little kid. It was nice being taken care of at first but then I realised how condescending he was and dumped him.”

“How long were you together?”

You pause. “Two weeks,” you admit abashedly, making Jake chuckle. “At least he didn’t waste my time and showed his red flags early on.”

“Any boyfriends since?” he asks, and you wonder whether you’re making up the unsure tone of his voice. As if he’s curious, but doesn’t want to show it too much. You hope you’re not making it up.

“A few, but they never last very long with me,” you say, a meek smile on your lips. “Furthest I got was three months.”

“And why didn’t it work out with three-months-guy?”

“He started comparing me to his mum a bit too often.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, I ran out of there without looking back.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you’ve got high standards. I would hate to see you date just any loser.”

You want to say, High standards or issues?, but you don’t want to make it weird, so you play it cool instead. “I would never. I have a mental checklist with everything a guy needs to have for me to date him.”

“A checklist? I have to hear about this.”

You sigh, debating whether you should tell him about it. Would he notice it’s based on him? Would he notice the only person that could tick practically every box was none other than him? Jake gently elbows your side, goading you on. When you look at him, he’s got a shit-eating grin playing on his lips, and you give in. You look off into the distance as you start listing your requirements. “Well, there’s all your basics like funny, taller than me but not too much, ‘cause I don’t want neck cramps, smart, takes uni seriously, has plans for his future, easy to talk to, not emotionally stunted and can actually have a vulnerable conversation. It’s also a bonus if he has a nice face.”

“How much of a bonus?”

You think for a second. “It’s more a dealbreaker than a bonus, actually. Nice smile is a must, definitely.”

“Okay. Got any more specifics?”

“I do have some particular ones. It’s nice if he’s a reader, but it’s terrible if it makes him think he’s better than everyone or if he tries to sound smarter than me. I like it if he has experience, I don’t want to have to teach him everything. But obviously I don’t want him to still be in love with his ex. Guys and their first loves, I swear… I also don’t really like picky eaters.” You look over at Jake and take a double-take. He’s typing away on his phone, but because of his privacy screen protector, you can’t see anything. You huff. “I also don’t like it if he has those protective screens on his phone. What’s on there that’s so important that I can’t take a peek? What are you even doing?”

The sweet sound of Jake’s giggles erases any trace of annoyance that you felt seconds ago. He turns his screen towards you, showing the list of mostly ticked boxes that he’s written up. “See? I check most of these,” he says with a proud smile. “Guess your standards aren’t that high.” You don’t tell him that your standards are high, he’s just that amazing. 

You do your best to look only amused at this even though inside, you’re all but freaking out. “Which are you missing?”

“Well, I clearly own a privacy screen. And I don’t have much experience. Not nearly as much as you, by the sounds of it,” he admits, somewhat sheepish. “But other than that, I’m practically the perfect man for you.” He looks down at you with a smile so bright, it makes you wish you had brought sunglasses. It takes everything in you not to scream right then and there. Yes, Jake, you are the perfect man for me, but I wish you wouldn’t say it like it was a joke.

You let out a stiff chuckle, and, rather than saying something stupid and possibly damaging, shift the conversation to him. “What do you mean by not much experience? Have you not dated anyone?”

Jake sighs. “Nope, not anyone. I went on a few dates, you know, went through a few talking stages and all that, but it never went much further. There was always something…” He glances at you then. “Missing.”

“I know that feeling,” you say with a chuckle, and he laughs too, a breathy sound.

“I don’t have a checklist to pinpoint what it is, though.”

You smile. “You should try, it might help.”

“I just… I guess I’m like you in that I also have high standards. But it made me not even want to give anyone a chance, especially since I knew it wouldn’t end up anywhere.”

“Don’t tell me no one has ever managed to reach the great Jake Sim’s standards?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

Jake smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course someone has. She’s the whole reason I have standards in the first place. It’s not my standards I compare people to, it’s her.”

Jealousy has never made you feel as sad as it is right now. “And… it didn’t work out between you?”

Jake looks at you, eyes searching for something in yours but seemingly not finding it, and so he turns his gaze away. You don’t know why you feel so disappointed. “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “She didn’t feel the same way.”

Whoever this girl is, you can’t believe how stupid she is for passing up the opportunity to have Jake Sim. “That’s… It sucks, I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t think spitting on this girl would make him feel any better, so you keep those thoughts to yourself.

“It’s okay,” he says with a small smile. “It was a while ago already.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re quite over it, though,” you say, and you’re surprised but glad to see his smile widen.

“That’s true.” His eyes meet yours again. “I don’t think I’ll be over her anytime soon, either.” You have to look away to shield the pain that flashes through your eyes from him.

Pretending you don’t have feelings for your best friend and that you’re okay with him being in love with someone else is like riding a bike: even after years of not doing it, it only takes a few minutes for you to be able to do it perfectly again. Muscle memory, if you will. So you sigh dramatically and throw your arm around Jake’s shoulder, slightly pulling him down to your level. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have so much fun this year, you’ll completely forget about her. Promise. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Yeah?” 

He smiles down at you. You want nothing more but that glint of melancholy in his eyes to be gone. “Yeah.”

--

Jake is only half-glad to see you haven’t changed much from your childhood and early teenage years. You’re still just as pretty, just as warm; it’s still as comfortable to be around you. You’re also still as dense.

Then and now, he did everything he could to make his feelings for you very, very obvious. Either you’re completely oblivious, or the idea of dating him is so horrifying to you, you understand but pretend you don’t. He really hopes it’s the former. 

He arrived in Edinburgh just a bit over a week ago, and you’ve seen each other almost every day. Out of those times, there isn’t a single one where he hasn’t tried to send something your way - something that says, hey, what if we stopped being friends and dated instead? Wouldn’t that be cool? Can’t you see how desperately I love you?, but you never latch on. The ball’s in your court, and he wants you to throw it back, but it’s been feeling more like a boomerang that always hits him right in the face when it circles back than a game of catch.

But he’s reminding himself not to be too greedy. Even if it’s just as friends, at least he has you back, so he’s satisfied with that. For now.

His first class of the year is on the following Tuesday morning, a ninety-minute seminar specifically made for exchange students called Discover Scotland. (He has Mondays free, resulting in a three-day weekend, which you and your 9am Monday tutorial are very envious of.) As interesting as the English Lit courses he’s taking seem, it’s this one he’s most looking forward to - except for the one class he shares with you, of course. Not even because of the seminars themselves, which will be about all sorts of topics on Scottish culture and history, but because of the coursework, as crazy as that sounds. It consists of a singular project, not due until the very last day of the semester, in which he has to travel to at least three different places in the country, research its background and provide a detailed account of his experience there. It can take any form: a written report, an in-class presentation, a podcast, anything. He could even film a TikTok if he wanted. Jake knew that being part of the Arts & Crafts club for two years in a row back in Seoul wasn’t for nothing - his scrapbooking skills would finally have their time to shine. 

That afternoon, he practically snatches you as you come out of your lecture, giving you little time to say bye to your friends, and makes you take him to the biggest stationary store you know in the city. If he wants to ace this project, he will need supplies. Many, many supplies. And it’s more fun shopping if you’re with him. You seem happy following him around the store, and when he asks you if you want to come on his trips with him, he can pretend it’s because you seem so excited about his project and not because he had thought of you accompanying him as soon as he heard about it.

As you stand in line at the till, you tell him that if he wants to start his project now, you could go to the beach together. You raise your eyebrows at him when he snaps your head towards you. “There’s a beach here?!”

“Did you not look at a map before coming here?” you ask, amused.

“I guess I didn’t…” he says, distraught at the new information. It only lasts a second, though. “Okay, let’s go now.”

“Now?” you echo, and he nods. “But-” you start, but are interrupted by your thoughts. “I guess there’s no reason not to. The weather’s nice and it’s not like I have any uni work yet. Let’s go,” you agree, looking up at him with a smile. You’re so pretty he almost forgets to look away, until the employee calls Next in a bored drawl. 

An hour later, you’re at the beach, barefoot on the sand and ice cream in hand. Strawberry for you and vanilla for him, he notes with a smile. Really not much has changed, he thinks. From the sand, to the water, to the promenade along the beach, Portobello is worlds away from the beaches back home in Australia, or those of Jeju Island. But it’s still nice, and because you’re with him, it’s even better. You’ve been walking around for an hour, splashing each other with water and mercilessly ruining sandcastles left behind before he realises you technically came here for his project. He writes down things he doesn’t want to forget on his phone and snaps a few pictures, sneaking a few of you when you’re not looking. He wants to tell you how beautiful you are with your hair blowing in the wind and the way the chill bites at your cheeks, but he keeps it a secret between him and his Notes app. 

Even though he lives two stops further down, he gets off from the bus with you, containing his excitement as best he can when you invite him up for a cup of tea. “Depends. What tea do you have?” he asks, trying and failing to play it cool. He’s just grateful he doesn’t have to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you.

You roll your eyes playfully as you unlock the front door to your building. “I can make you hot chocolate, Mister Tea-Is-For-Old-People.”

He chuckles. “Actually, I’ll have you know I started drinking tea at uni.” When you turn around to look at him, a surprised look on your face, he nods proudly. “Mh-hm. I got addicted to caffeine very quickly into first year so I started drinking black tea for the sake of my heart,” he explains.

“God,” you say breathily, sounding mildly horrified. “A caffeine addiction sounds intense.”

“It was, yeah,” he says, laughing as he follows you into your flat. 

Yunjin and Chaewon are sitting at the living room table, watching an episode of what he thinks is Gossip Girl, and they greet him as normally as these two can, but he wonders what the knowing look they exchange is all about. He’d met them the previous weekend when you had all gone for drinks together, along with Jay, Yunjin’s boyfriend, and they had all but grilled him on his relationship with you. He hadn’t thought much of it, chalking it up to your friends feeling protective of you, and truthfully, he was just happy to get to talk about you. But now, he was wondering if you had told them anything about him that made them so curious about him. If you did, he hoped it was something positive.

He stands awkwardly in the kitchen, chatting with you as you boil the water and get cups out, but he can feel their gazes burning the back of his head. Clearly, whatever conversation he’s having with you, he’s also having it with them. “How do you take your tea?” you ask.

“Um, three sugars and lots of milk, please,” he says, smiling innocently when you slowly turn to look at him, a mix of disapproval, disgust, and offence on your face. 

You sigh deeply. “I mean, I’ll do it, but I’m not sure that’s even tea anymore.”

“You’re one to talk, Miss Caramel Frappuccino,” he says, recycling your bad joke from earlier.

“At least I don’t claim to be drinking coffee when I order a frap,” you argue. “And this is how you battled your coffee addiction? You’ll be getting another kind of heart problem, Jakey.” He doesn’t know if you even notice your use of his old nickname - the first time you’ve used it since he’s been here - but you don’t make a big deal of it, so he doesn’t either. Not outwardly, at least. Mentally, he’s running laps around your small kitchen.

Jake laughs it off. “I thought I came here for tea, not a health check-up,” he says, smile growing wider at the sight of yours. 

“Right, sorry,” you say, giggling. “I’ll make your tea just how you like it,” you add in a sweet voice. Jake knows you’re just doing it as a joke, but it still manages to make butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

His tea tastes even sweeter that day.

--

A few days after your impromptu trip to the beach, you’re waiting for Jake outside of his class. He heard of this donut shop he “absolutely needs to visit” and is dragging you along with him - well, “dragging” is a big word considering you’d follow him anywhere. You got here a few minutes early, not needing much of a reason to leave the library, so you scroll through your feed until Jake calls out your name. You’re only mildly surprised to see Jay leaving the classroom behind him.

“Y/N! Can you believe that Jay and I are in the same class?” he says excitedly as the two boys walk toward you. You feel like a dog owner being greeted by their over-enthusiastic dog after a long day (about three hours) of being apart.

“I can believe it, actually. You two do the same degree.”

You exchange quick greetings with Jay before the three of you start heading out. As you walk, Jake throws his arm around your shoulders so casually, it almost throws you off balance. Physical contact always came easy to him, but there’s something about him doing it next to someone else that catches you off guard. It reminds you of walking somewhere with Jay and Yunjin as they discretely held hands. It makes you feel like it’s not the three of you, but Jay with the two of you. Like you and Jake come as a pair rather than as two individuals. 

All of that from a simple arm around your shoulders.

Jake asking you in a very unsubtle whisper whether Jay can come with brings you out of your head and back into the conversation. “Yeah, of course,” you say, smiling. It’s not a bad idea to have Jay along: hanging out with someone else might snap you out of your delusion.

Most of the walk to the shop is done in laughter as Jake and Jay realise how much random stuff they have in common, from their peanut allergies to the embarrassing Harry Potter phase they had as fifteen-year-olds. Grassmarket is really busy on Friday afternoons, and there’s a bit of a queue of other donut-enjoyers in front of the boutique, but you don’t mind. The sun is shining down gently on the square and it gives you time to choose your donut out of the ten or so flavours available. In the end, you go for white chocolate and raspberry, while Jake chooses Biscoff and Jay, tiramisu. 

“My friend Sunghoon would love this,” he says after taking a hearty bite. “He goes crazy over tiramisu. Like a cat with catnip.”

Jake chuckles, mouth full of Biscoff. “That’s funny, I also have a friend named Sunghoon who loves tiramisu back in Seoul.”

Jay punches Jake’s shoulder, eyes wide in amusement and shock. “Bro, that’s crazy. You have to be lying at this point,” he says, but Jake shakes his head fervently. 

“I promise I’m not. I’ve even saved his number with the tiramisu emoji.”

“There’s a tiramisu emoji?” Jay asks, already over questioning the existence of Jake’s Sunghoon.

The conversation circles back to the courses you’re all taking this semester, and Jake tells Jay about Discover Scotland and the trips he’s planned so far. “Well, if you really want to discover Scotland as a student, you need to go on a night out in Glasgow,” Jay says. Going by the look on Jake’s face, Jay’s idea seems to have struck a chord in him.

“Y/N?”

You nod, finishing your mouthful of donut before speaking. “Yeah, Glasgow’s really fun. We should go,” you say, laughing when the two boys high-five in victory. Between the train, the drinks and the club entry, going out isn’t a cheap ordeal, and getting to and fro also takes a while - even so, the smile on Jake’s face makes it worth it. 

He wipes some raspberry jam from the corner of your mouth, shooting you a wink, and you want to disintegrate right then and there, become one with the bench you’re sitting on and never have to face him again. The conversation resumes as Jay tells Jake about all the best places to go out in Glasgow, but you don’t hear a word - the feeling of Jake’s thumb so close to your lips takes away your ability for coherent thought.

“It’s decided, then. We’re going out tomorrow night,” Jay loudly announces. “Let me gather the troops.”

That’s how you find yourself in line for the club the next day, already tipsy from pre-drinking on the train and at the pub. It’s still warm enough for you and the girls to wear as little clothing as you want, but Jake insisted on giving you his flannel jacket anyway. If not for the warmth it brings, you’re glad to have his scent enveloping you.

The five of you work exceptionally well together. You, Chaewon and Yunjin have been a given since you met in first year, and Jay and Yunjin went so well together that he was but a natural addition to your little group. Jake’s only been here for over a week, but it’s like he’s always been around, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Him and Jay hit it off immediately, and although the girls needed some time to warm up to him (it’s not everyday that you meet your friend’s ex-best-friend she’s practically always been in love with; you understand why they might’ve been wary at first), they now tease him just as relentlessly as they do Jay. He takes it like a champ.

For a little while, you watch your friends speaking over each other, bickering over nothing, a smile on your face. Two pints of cider and some of Jay’s fancy vodka have made you more grateful than ever for them - if you drink too much in the club, you’ll be hugging them and crying about how much you love them. You’re not sure what that might look like around Jake, so you decide to keep yourself in check for the night. 

It takes about thirty minutes before you manage to get into the club. It’s not coat check season yet, so you head straight to the bar. “Sunghoon said he’d meet us here,” Jay says, lifting his head to spot his friend in the sea of drunk students. “Oh yeah, there he is! Hoon, hey!” 

You hear a loud “Jongseong!” being shouted from somewhere in the crowd, but you’re not sure who Jay is waving at until a boy whose face is mostly eyebrows is standing - well, standing as best as he can, with the copious amount of alcohol he’s obviously already consumed - in front of you. He gives Jay a hug and the three of you a nod of his head, a lopsided smile on his face. When he turns to Jake, his eyebrows lift first, then his face breaks into a wide grin.

“Jake, my man!” he shouts, taking a stunned Jake’s hand and bringing him into a hug. 

“Sunghoon? What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, chuckling and frowning in confusion. 

“I’m just partying, man! Same as you!”

“No, I mean here in Scotland, you dumbass!”

“You two know each other?” Jay asks, looking back and forth between his two friends.

“Jake’s my man!” Sunghoon exclaims, unhelpful and stumbling as he throws an arm around his man’s shoulders. Jake shoots you a distressed look but you just laugh at him.

“This is Tiramisu Sunghoon I told you about,” Jake says, helping Sunghoon stand up straight.

“God, what I would do for a tiramisu right now,” Sunghoon says, looking at Yunjin like she might relate. She chuckles awkwardly.

“I have no idea what he’s doing in Scotland, though. Hoon, I thought you were going to NYU for your exchange?”

Sunghoon pauses to think for a second, looking like he’s never heard of NYU in his life. “Oh, that! Yeah, I did an online orientation thing and… it did not go well. Let’s just say there’s someone in New York City who wants me dead,” he says conspiratorially. You all stare at him but he gives no further explanation. On your right, you hear Yunjin whisper what the fuck under her breath. “So I transferred here instead!”

“I didn’t know you were an exchange student,” Jay says, still looking just as confused.

“Yeah, man! But anyways, let’s not talk about uni right now. I’m on a bender, day three, baby! Do not talk to me tomorrow,” he says, chuckling until the smile suddenly drops from his face. “I mean that.” You look around yourself, glad to find everyone is just as baffled as you. “Let’s party!” Sunghoon cheers, intoxicated grin back on his lips. Jake and Jay follow, but you and the girls stay back for a second, taking in everything that has just happened.

“That. Is the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Chaewon blurts, staring blankly at the spot Sunghoon stood in a second ago.

“Yeah, he also seems to be a raging alcoholic. And he’s what, twenty-one?” Yunjin says, a scowl on her face. 

“I could fix him.”

“Okay, let’s go,” you say, grabbing your friends by their wrists before either of them can say something worse.

Feeling generous, Sunghoon buys shots for all six of you, and you quickly down them before heading to the dancefloor. On your way there, a group of sober-looking girls hand Chaewon a giant, still almost full jug of red liquid, something that costs at least twelve pounds here. They say they’re leaving and don’t need it anymore, smiling as you profusely and astonishedly thank them. You look at your friends, mentally weighing the risk and drugging possibility this might present, but shrug and pass the jug around after taking hearty sips anyway. It tastes so much like fizzy cherries that you wonder if it even contains any alcohol, but sure enough, twenty minutes later, the three of you are spinning around on the dancefloor, screaming the lyrics to your favourite pop songs at the top of your lungs. Jake at a club is a completely foreign sight to you, and you can’t stop laughing at all the silly moves he pulls. 

You’re shaking your whole body to a Nicki song from the early 2010s when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. Before you can turn around and slap whoever this random man is that thinks he can touch you, a familiar voice whispers it’s just me in your ear, and you simultaneously relax and tense up knowing that Jake is standing right behind you. “There’s a creep staring at you,” he explains, lips and breath gently tickling your ear as he speaks. You look around the room and quickly notice a man standing in a corner, drink in one hand and the other in his pocket, unmoving as he eyes you with a smirk so slimy it makes your stomach turn. To avoid his gaze, you turn around, but you’re not sure the sight you’re met with is much better for you.

Jake peers down at you, eyes slightly glossed over and cheeks flushed from the alcohol, jaw locked in annoyance. He glances at the guy in the corner, who you assume is still staring when you feel Jake’s hands brush along your sides until they reach your waist. His gaze returns to your face as he brings you a step closer to him. Reflexively, you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Is this okay?” he mouths. All you can do is meekly nod. You watch as his eyes deliberately scan your face, going down and down. Time stills when they reach your lips and stay there. It’s like someone has put the booming music of the club on mute, and the only thing you can hear is your heart loudly beating in your ears. You suddenly feel very sober.

You swear Jake’s face is slowly inching its way towards yours when you’re abruptly taken away. Yunjin has grabbed you by the forearm, leading you and Chaewon to the bathroom as she chants “Bathroom break! Bathroom break!”, clearly unaware of the moment she’s just interrupted.

Because of the queue for the girls’ bathroom and Chaewon’s decision to console this random girl who was in the middle of a breakdown, it’s not until half-an-hour later that you emerge back into the crowd. You spot the boys at a table, two empty shots each in front of them and all three with a beer in hand. They will not be happy checking their bank accounts tomorrow morning. 

“Y/N! You’re back!” Jake calls out happily when he spots you, and you can tell right away that he’s much drunker than when you left him. His whole face is flush, his eyes don’t open quite all the way, and a lopsided smile won’t leave his lips - even like this, he’s so pretty that you want to grab his hand and take him somewhere it’s just the two of you. 

Chaewon gets drinks for the three of you and then you’re dancing again. It’s already one am at this point, and the remaining two hours until the club closes, fueled with alcohol and good music, go by in a flash. Before you know it, the DJ is playing All of Me by John Legend and the lights have been turned on, clear signs that you’re overstaying your welcome. The few people that have made it to closing time stumble out of the club and into the street, heading for either the nearest subway stop or the next party of the night. Since there are no trains at this time, your group walks to the close-by bus station, listening to Jake and Sunghoon grumble about how the clubs in Seoul don’t close until at least five or six and how trains run all night there. 

The bus is already at the station when you get there, and the driver doesn’t seem too pleased about having six mildly drunk kids get on his bus, but he’s probably used to questionable people taking public transport at this time of the day anyway. Physically, Sunghoon is sitting across from you, but mentally, he’s off somewhere far, far from this bus. With his head against the window and mouth wide open, saliva pooling at the corner of his lips, he looks like he’s any second away from obnoxiously snoring. Jay and Yunjin are sitting somewhere you can’t see them, probably eating each other’s faces; she once told you they had their “most mind-blowing sex” when both a little drunk, and much to your dismay, you haven’t been able to get that piece of information out of your head since. Chaewon is on the phone to her long-distance bestie Sakura, for whom it’s a nice eleven in the morning right now. 

This means that you and Jake are left alone, both of you still tipsy and not tired enough to fall asleep. You drop your head on Jake’s shoulder, and not only does he let you, he also takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers and placing them atop his thigh. Clumsily, because he now has to use his left hand, Jake slips his phone out of his back pocket and shows you the photos he took all evening. As the night progresses, they get blurrier and blurrier, so much so that towards the end, you can’t tell what he was even trying to capture, and you laugh at how inappropriate some of these would be to submit in a university project. 

When he softly says your name, you don’t raise your head, simply humming to let him know you’re listening. You close your eyes, cherishing the way your name sounds on his lips. It’s his tone, tentative and vulnerable as he tells you there’s something he’s been wanting to ask you, that makes you look up at him. He, however, won’t meet your eyes, and settles his gaze on the window, even though it’s so dark outside you can’t make out a thing.

“How come you never replied to my letter? I know it’s been ages, but… I still find myself wondering about it.” The question is softly asked and you know he by no means wants to hurt you, but it still feels like a punch to the throat. You hadn’t remembered who it was that had sent the last letter, while he’d been wondering all these years why his words had been left unanswered. 

He seems set on not looking at you, so you rest your head back on his shoulder. Your hand is still in his. “I’m not sure, Jakey. I’m sorry,” you say, aware it’s not a satisfying answer. You’ve thought about why you and Jake had stopped talking for hours on end; you’ve discussed it with your friends and your mum, looked at it from all sorts of angles, tried to come up with real reasons other than time pulling you apart. But now that Jake himself is asking you about it, the words don’t come easy. You’ve theorised that you were afraid putting effort into sustaining your friendship would only hurt you in the end, because it was just that - a friendship. You could fool yourself into thinking you were okay only being friends with him when he was with you, that putting your feelings aside was worth it since you could at least spend time with him. But now that he was away, you didn’t have that anymore - it just hurt. So what was the point? And how could you phrase all this without betraying your feelings for him?

“Our letters were so sparse anyway back then, even our texts and calls were getting less and less frequent… And whenever I had a new boyfriend, I’d get into the same argument about being too close to you over and over again, even though you were literally on another continent.” 

“You know, I always felt sorry about that.”

“About what?”

“Those boyfriends of yours. I felt like you waited for me to leave before you started dating-”

“It wasn’t like that!” you exclaim, lifting your head again. Finally, he meets your eyes, gaze softening upon seeing your affronted expression. “It wasn’t like that,” you repeat, relaxing your tone. “If anything, they were the ones that waited for you to be gone. I'm sorry I let their jealousy get to me.”

Jake smiles, the tenderness in his gaze making your whole body turn to jelly. He squeezes your hands. “It’s okay. I just… I felt like I was always in the way of your relationships, even after I left.”

“You don’t have to feel sorry about that. They should’ve had more trust in me.”

He pauses, gaze dropping down to your intertwined hands. “I would’ve been jealous.” When his eyes find yours again, there’s something in them that you quite can’t place. It creates a ball of nerves that pull at your stomach. “If I were dating you, and you had a guy friend you were as close with as we were back then, I’d be jealous. You know, I’d assume he had feelings for you. And that you might have feelings for him, too.”

Because I did, you think. I did, and I still do. You try to communicate that thought to Jake, but telepathy works especially bad when one has as much alcohol coursing through their veins as you do right now. So instead, you say the opposite of what you’re thinking, turning away from Jake to avoid his gaze. You watch the dribble of saliva trickle from Sunghoon’s lips. “That’s not a great view of male-female friendship.” 

Jake’s retort comes immediately. “But we were different, right?”

His words echo through your head until they make even less sense than they did initially. Different from what? From who? You’re not sure - but you like the idea of you and Jake being different, special. You especially like the idea of Jake thinking so. So you look at him and smile. “Right.” 

Slowly, his grin fades and turns into a worried expression. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“We’re still different now, aren’t we?”

You want to wrap him in your arms so tightly neither of you can breathe. You settle for running a hand through his hair and pinching his cheek. “Course we are.” Your whole being relaxes when his face breaks into a smile again. 

--

The next morning, you wake up to Yunjin plopping down on your bed unceremoniously, shaking you awake, and asking you if you want anything from Snax Café. On one hand, you’re grateful that she thought of you and that in thirty minutes’ time, you’ll have the greasiest sausage wrap and hash browns known to man in your hand; on the other, you’d like to think that she knows you well enough to know to order your regular from there without asking. But that’s probably the hangover talking.

You stumble out of bed, thanking last night’s you for having remembered to take headache medicine before crashing. Even if your stomach is very upset with the copious amount of alcohol it needs to rid your body of, and your throat is begging for water, at least your head doesn’t feel like it’s been split into two. As Yunjin barges into Chaewon’s room just as she had done yours, you head for the kitchen to get yourself a tall glass of revitalising tap water. You’re only mildly surprised to find Sunghoon passed out on your living room couch - it takes you a few seconds to remember that the three of you took pity on him when you learned he lived over an hour’s walk from the station, so you let him spend the night on your uncomfortable, cold leather sofa. While you down your glass in three gulps, you hear Yunjin shaking Sunghoon awake and asking him loudly if he wanted something from Snax.

“Fuck, I’d kill for a Snax right now,” he groggily says before he’s even opened his eyes. When he does, they dart around the room until they land on Yunjin, who's crouching in front of him. He looks like he thought her question was asked in a dream and not in real life. He also looks like he's not quite sure where he is, or who Yunjin is. It isn’t until Jay comes wobbling out of Yunjin’s bed to the couch opposite Sunghoon that the memories seem to piece back together in his head. The three of you watch him like he’s an unstable mental patient and you’re his doctors. 

“No need for that, I’m ordering it on Deliveroo.” He nods his head and goes back to sleep for the time being. 

Just as you’re about to text Jake, your phone rings with a call from him. His raspy morning voice as he asks you whether you slept well makes you want to put your head in an oven heated at 200 degrees Celsius. However, you resist the urge, and answer him with a smile, then ask him the same question.

“I slept pretty well too. I’d have slept in longer but one of my flatmates decided to have a Sunday fucking brunch and his friends are so loud. Can I come over?”

You’re very aware of the other people in the room, especially of Chaewon who has just walked in and is eyeing you suspiciously as if to say, Why are you smiling so hard at ten in the morning? You know the girls would jump at any opportunity to tease you about Jake, and with the added presence of Sunghoon in the room, you can’t have that. So you stifle the giggles bubbling in your throat and answer as nonchalantly as you can. It also gives you the chance to reflect on why Jake Sim asking you whether he can come over makes you want to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl so much.

(Maybe it’s because when it comes to him, you’re still the giddy schoolgirl you used to be.)

“Yeah, of course. I was going to ask you if you wanted anything from Snax, actually.”

“Snax? What’s that?”

“Oh my God, Jake, am I about to introduce you to Snax right now?”

Twenty minutes later, the six of you are sitting around your small living room table, all varying amounts of tired, dehydrated and famished as you dig into your breakfast. Given your current levels of energy, it’s fairly quiet; plus, the food hits such a spot that it’s hard to talk and eat at the same time. Jake eats like he’s never had a breakfast wrap and hash brown in his life. It’s an endearing sight if you’ve ever seen one. 

You spend the afternoon together, watching movies curled up in your bed, and you try desperately not to think about the implications of that - except that’s hard to do when Jake is right next to you, legs and arms ever-so-slightly brushing against yours, his warmth so close yet so out of reach. You purposefully let him pick movies you’ve already seen so that you don’t have to focus on anything but your own thoughts and the faint but dizzying scent of his body wash. The both of you had an innumerable amount of sleepovers as kids, so this shouldn’t feel weird, but it decidedly does, probably because you’re much more aware of him now in a way you weren’t before.  

As hard as you try to figure out what exactly he meant by “different,” you draw a blank. The only way you’ll understand is if you ask him, and you’re far too scared to do that. You don’t want to seem so hung upon a singular word he used when he was tipsy. It might be slightly dramatic, but you felt like some sort of balance had been restored since Jake was back in your life - the problem was it made you scared to do anything that might threaten this newfound equilibrium. It at least seems like different means a good thing to him, and that’s enough for you. 

You look over to him when the second movie comes to an end. He’s sleeping peacefully, lashes caressing the skin under his eyes and cheeks looking rounder than usual. It’d be so easy to reach a finger out and trace the line descending from the top of his forehead to his chin, gliding along the bump of his nose and feeling the plumpness of his rosy lips, but you settle for drawing that line with your eyes instead.  

You don’t think you’ll be able to fall asleep with him next to you and your heart beating so loudly in your ears, but you find yourself waking up a few hours later, the sun already starting to set. Jake is already awake, scrolling on his phone, one arm casually behind his head as if being in your bed is as comfortable to him as being in his own. When he sees you’ve woken up, his honey-coated smile washes warmly over you, and he makes a joke about how he keeps on falling asleep when he’s with you. “I feel that at ease, I guess,” he says, and you hope you’re not making up the small blush that spreads over his cheeks. 

--

Semesters are always a short and intense affair, but this one passes by even quicker with Jake by your side. Before you know it, it’s midterms already, and you and Jake have travelled enough for him to complete his project and make another one just for the hell of it. He had scoured the internet for the cheapest train tickets and most noteworthy sites, planning trips that lasted anywhere between three hours and a day for the two of you. All you needed to do was follow and trust him, which was the easiest thing anyone could’ve asked of you. 

You’ve gone back to Glasgow, during the day, this time, as well as St. Andrews and Aberdeen. You’ve practically visited every loch and castle in a one-hour train ride radius of Edinburgh, and Jake has more lined up for the second part of the semester. He’s even said that your trips should continue being a thing next term, and you couldn’t have agreed faster. With every new destination, every train ride spent looking out a window or laughing about everything and anything, any odd Scottish food you try for the first time, you somehow fall for him a bit deeper. You didn’t know your love for him could bloom any more than it already had - but Jake is the gift that keeps on giving, and, unwillingly or not, he always finds new ways to make your heart speed that much faster.

Attentionate, affectionate, sweet Jake who always makes sure you’re comfortable wherever you go, always gives you his jacket or tucks your hair behind your ear to prevent it from falling in your face. Who, as time passed, grew more touchy, would hold your hand, ruffle your hair, pinch your cheek, which was simultaneously devastating and elating. Who, you could tell, started to linger more, both in his touch and in his gaze. Questions of does he love me back or am I seeing what I want to see? nearly drove you mad. 

--

“I feel like at this point the only way she’ll understand that I like her is if I kill myself and write in my suicide note that it’s her fault for not loving me back.”

Jake has been pacing back and forth in Jay’s living room for approximately twenty minutes, with no end in sight. At least he’ll have gotten most of his ten thousand steps of the day in.

Jay sighs heavily. “Okay, I really don’t think you need to go that far.”

“Sounds romantic to me,” Sunghoon says, mouth full of salted caramel popcorn.

“I hope you never get a girlfriend,” Jay retorts, looking at his deranged friend with a scowl. He turns back to his (slightly more) normal friend and gives him a sympathetic smile. 

“I mean, I told her we were different. Different. That we weren’t like regular friends. I tell her she’s pretty every chance I get. I give her my jacket all the time, even though this country is fucking cold. I’ve even given her a t-shirt of mine, sprayed with my perfume and everything. And don’t get me wrong, I do it ‘cause I love doing that for her-”

“Simp,” Sunghoon snickers.

“But what the hell else can I do? Like, she has to be ignoring it on purpose at this point.” 

“You could always, you know… tell her?”

Jake scoffs, fixing his friend with a derisive look. “Wow. What a great idea, Jay, I never thought of that one before!”

A popcorn lands right on Jay’s cheek. “You’re so clueless, man,” Sunghoon says, a shit-eating smirk on his lips. As if he knows any better.

Jay looks back-and-forth between his friends, an expression on his face like he’s been disparaged. “Sorry, I didn’t know being straightforward and honest was such a bad thing. It would just make things a lot clearer for the both of you.”

“But… I’m scared,” Jake says. 

“Man up!” Sunghoon suddenly yells, punching the sofa next to him, making his friends jump. “How can she ever figure it out if you don’t tell her?”

“You were on my side just a second ago, man, what are you doing?” Jake asks, confusion written all over his face. Sunghoon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two boys, retreating into silence as he stuffs his mouth with another handful of popcorn.

“Just ignore him,” Jay says. “But for once, he did say something that makes a modicum of sense. You think you’re being really obvious, but you might not actually be. Which could be a good sign, you know. I heard girls were super aware of a guy liking them if they weren’t into him, but being totally oblivious if they did like him.”

“Where did you hear that?” Jake asks, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“...Instagram Reels,” Jay reluctantly admits, frowning at Sunghoon who bursts into laughter. 

Jake holds the bridge of his nose between two fingers like his head aches. “You’re both so useless, I’m never coming to you with my problems ever again.”

“I’ll pretend I’m not offended by that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, anyway,” Sunghoon says. He’s smiling but Jake genuinely can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“But seriously, if you think you’ve done everything, then just do one last thing that’s so obvious she can’t misinterpret it,” Jay says.

“Like what?”

“Like kissing her, or some-”

“Kissing her?!” Jake echoes.

“That’s wild, man,” Sunghoon uselessly butts in.

“It’s just an example, calm yourselves,” Jay says. “Or, again, just straight up tell her how you feel. It’s what I did with Yunjin, and it worked.”

“You and Yunjin are dating?” Sunghoon asks, bewildered.

Jay shakes his head at him. “Where the hell have you been, bro? We were literally cuddling on the couch the other day.”

“I just thought you were really good friends, or something.”

Jake groans, holding his head in his hands. Sunghoon was of no help whatsoever, and Jay was so on point that it annoyed him. Confessing was the only solution - but Jake was so afraid of being rejected and losing your friendship that he had barely entertained the thought. But he had found the courage to do it once, and even though his planned confession had fallen through back then, he could get himself together and do it again. 

It was the day he had told you he was moving to Korea, which he himself had learned that morning. Originally, he’d texted you because he had news to share - good news. Or at least, he hoped they were good. He hoped the soft, lingering looks you gave him weren’t a figment of his imagination but rather the confirmation he needed that you liked him back. He hoped that like him, you cared too much about your friendship to make the first move into something else; that by confessing first, you’d be relieved of that responsibility; that his wish to hold your hand and kiss your forehead wasn’t one-sided. 

He decided not to prepare anything - just a couple sentences that he’d rehearsed over and over in his head. Declarations of love, bouquets of flowers, chocolate and couple keychains, all that could wait until after you’d said yes to being his girlfriend. He didn’t want to win you over just once, he wanted to show you every day how much he loved you. Fourteen-year-old Jake was absolutely head over heels for you; so imagine his disappointment when, as he was getting ready to meet with you, his parents called him downstairs, a tone to their voice Jake wasn’t familiar with, but that couldn’t mean anything good. 

“Your dad’s job is sending us back to Seoul next month,” his mom announced, not beating around the bush. He felt everything quite literally crumbling down around him. His friends in Brisbane, his school, his hobbies, but above all, you. He’d lose it all. And what was the point now in telling you how he felt? If you felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if you didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.

What he had planned to be good news turned into the most awful ones. The thought of it happening all over again makes twenty-year-old Jake shudder. But he wouldn’t let himself be trapped by time again - sure, in seven months, the academic year would be over, and he would go back to Korea. But that didn’t mean that those seven months should be spent in agony, or the following ones either, for that matter. You would make it work. What was long-distance to someone who loved someone else as much as Jake loved you?

But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. He has to start by really resolving to do this, and in the off-chance that it actually goes in his favour, he’d start worrying about long distance then.

First, he has a trip to plan.

--

You should’ve known that a trip to the Scottish Highlands in the middle of November was a risky choice in terms of weather. The day started off nicely enough - no sign of rain when you woke up or as you watched the sunrise through the train window. Clouds turned the sky a bright white at first, then increasingly greyer and greyer. You feel the first drops of rain after lunch as you walk around a small village. By four pm, it’s pitch black and storming like you’ve rarely seen before. You head into a pub to grab a drink as you wait for the rain to subside, but subside it does not. You end up ordering fish and chips, one each, although one serving is enough to feed three. Even after taking your time eating, the bad weather does not let up. The last train, which is meant to be at eight pm, has been cancelled. Luckily, there’s an inn right across the road from the pub; you have no choice but to spend the night. 

The inn receptionist is sitting so low on her chair, you can barely see her over the desk until you’re standing right over it. Her face is hidden by a book and it’s only when you say hiya that she seems to realise you’re there. You had never heard of the book or of its author, but you recognized the cover design as that of those romance novels with repetitive plots and weirdly misogynistic love interests your mum and every other middle-aged woman was obsessed with.

Her smile widens as she looks between you and Jake. “Hi there. One room for the lovely couple?”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Yes, please,” Jake interrupts, smiling down at her, then at you. “It’ll be cheaper if we share a room.”

“Our only room with two single beds is already taken, I’m afraid. One double bed okay for you two?”

You feel like you’re about to faint, so you’re glad Jake is there to answer. “Yeah, of course.” How the idea of sharing one bed with you is so okay to him, you’re not sure - granted, you’ve done it before, but this feels different. For all intents and purposes, this is a hotel room you’re staying in. And you’re staying in it with Jake. 

You try to calm your breathing as the receptionist guides you to your room, chatting casually with Jake on the way there. As she unlocks the door for you, she informs you that check-out must be done before eleven in the morning tomorrow, then bids you good night and leaves you to it, still wearing that smile you swear has mischievousness to it. The door clicks shut behind you, and it’s just Jake and you again, together in this small room until tomorrow morning. Your chances of survival are very, very low. 

Your room is a humble one, consisting of a desk, a cupboard, two armchairs, a small, separate bathroom and the infamous bed. Every surface seems to be covered with wood, from the ceiling, to the walls, to the old-fashioned furniture. Only the floor is a soft, beige carpet. Especially with the darkness outside, it makes for a gloomy room until you turn on the lamp by the entrance; it casts a warm, golden light in the room, one that would make you feel at ease if it wasn’t for Jake’s presence next to you. The implications of being essentially trapped in a barely-lit room with him are heavy on your mind, especially when he looks this gorgeous with his hair still damp from the rain and the soft lights playing on his face. 

His voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Right. Do you, um, do you wanna shower first?” he asks, setting his bag on one of the armchairs.

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” There has never been such an awkward tension between the two of you, but you know you’re not doing anything to ease it. You hope a shower will help you get out of your head and make you relax.

You feel the tension leave your muscles under the hot water, but your stomach is still in knots. You’ve never been this nervous around Jake before; back when you were fourteen and again in these past few months, you’d gotten so used to dealing with your unspoken feelings for him that you could almost forget about them when you were with him. They’d come back to you when you were alone and dwelling on the moments you’d spent together, on his words and actions you desperately tried not to read too much into but always ended up doing anyway. But right now, they’ve floated to the surface, becoming as obvious to you as a stain on your skin you can’t rub away. You’re scared Jake will notice it, and, in the worst case scenario you often thought about, would run away and never speak to you again. 

At least the raging storm outside would make that a bit harder.

When you step out of the shower, you curse yourself for not having worn more comfortable clothes on this trip. You definitely can’t wear these jeans and button-up sweater to lounge around. Thankfully, the inn provides two long bathrobes that you could wear over underwear and your tank top, but you wonder where on the scale of inappropriate this would be to wear with Jake in the room. He’s seen you in short pyjama shorts before, but this, like everything else that would usually be normal between the two of you, feels weird today. 

You wrap the bathrobe around yourself, tying it in place around your waist, and decide that it’d only be weird if you made it weird. And if Jake found the sight of your bare legs weird, then he was the weird one.

The scene you’re met with as you walk into the room makes you want to retreat into the bathroom immediately. Jake is lying on the bed with his upper half against the headboard, one leg extended and the other one bent, resting his head against one palm, using his free hand to scroll through his phone. His t-shirt has ridden up slightly, putting the waistband of his Calvin Kleins into view. Worst of all, when he sees you, his face breaks into a grin. 

Your stomach twists when he gives you a once-over, letting his gaze linger on your legs. “Did you bring a bathrobe with you or was it included?” he asks with an annoyingly handsome smirk.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I bring a bathrobe with me wherever I go,” you say sarcastically. “Now shut up and go shower, you stink.” Reverting to insults is always the solution when you’re internally freaking out.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He takes so long in the shower that by the time he comes out, you’ve dozed off in bed. As if you were a child, he wakes you up with a boop to the nose, crouching next to the bed and smiling at you. His wet hair falls on his head like that of a movie star in a shower scene, which you find extremely unfair, and his cheeks are red from the warmth of the water. 

“It’s still early. Do you wanna go grab another drink?”

“In our bathrobes?” you say, laughing. “Nah, I don’t really feel like drinking anyway.” Read: I’m not sure what I’ll do with alcohol in me.

“Okay, no worries. Um, I think I saw they had board games in the lobby?”

Your ears perk up at this. “Ooh, what kind of board games?”

Putting jeans on underneath his bathrobe, Jake slips away for a minute and comes back with Monopoly, Uno, and a deck of cards. “They didn’t have much for two players,” he says, dumping everything on the bed. 

You already knew that anything would become fun if you did it with Jake, but you definitely didn’t expect to spend almost five hours just playing Monopoly and card games with him. Neither of you stays put for very long, always switching from sitting criss-cross to laying on your stomach, making fun of the other’s bathrobe even though you’re wearing the exact same thing. You make each other laugh as you make up your own nonsense rules and disregard the laws of your games, attacking the other ruthlessly for a couple extra points or coins. Jake even makes you go get snacks from a corner store that’s miraculously still open because you lose the first round of Uno. 

After some time, Jake lets out a loud yawn, which in turn makes you yawn too. He checks his phone to find that it’s close to midnight already. “Time for bed?” he asks, and your nervousness that had finally dissipated as you played came rushing back. 

You nod. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The two of you clean up before brushing your teeth. Even that, with Jake by your side, becomes a silly affair as he pulls faces in the mirror and nudges your hip with his. You stay behind to use the toilet, and when you come back out, Jake’s already in bed, bathrobe tossed on one of the armchairs. This means that Jake is just casually in a t-shirt and boxers, waiting for you to join him in bed. Luckily, his back is turned to you, so you quickly take off your own bathrobe and slide under the sheets, careful to keep your distance from him. The sheets are cold underneath you, and you know it’ll take a while before your body heat warms them up - although you feel very hot and bothered because of the man lying next to you. 

“Gosh, I’m really sleepy all of a sudden,” he says, words distorted by a yawn. You only hum in response, and he reaches for the lamp to turn it off. Just like that, you’re in complete darkness, and Jake’s body is mere inches from your own. 

It’s eerily quiet for a while, and when you’ve managed to slow your heartbeat and regularise your breathing, you start trying to fall asleep. You toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position until Jake’s low, sleepy voice breaks the silence. “Can’t sleep?” he asks, and you freeze.

You sigh. “No. I’m sorry for keeping you up,” you say guiltily.

“It’s okay. I can’t really sleep either. It’s a bit cold in here.”

You pause. “Right. Yeah, it is,” you say, even though you feel like you’re sweating buckets. 

The room plunges into silence again, long enough for you to think Jake has fallen asleep. You feel something cold against your foot, only realising as it slides up your calf that it’s his foot. “Jake!” you whisper-yell, withdrawing your leg as he bursts into giggles that warm your heart. “Your feet are so cold,” you say in-between chuckles.

“I’m cold all over,” he whines. “Have they not turned the heating on yet? It’s already mid-November.”

“People are used to the cold here.”

“Well I’m not. Can we cuddle?” he suddenly asks, and he must somehow feel the way you freeze in place because he stammers out a justification straight away. “For, I mean, just for warmth, you know. I don’t think I’ll sleep otherwise.”

His foot finds yours again and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, fine,” you say with a sigh as if you were doing only half-heartedly for his sake. As if this was some big sacrifice you were making, and not something you’d daydreamed about one too many times before. 

Your heart is beating a thousand miles a second when you scooch closer to Jake, his hands finding your waist as easily as if they’d been there a hundred times before. He pulls you in much closer than you had expected, holding you tightly against his chest, one arm for you to use as a pillow and one hand resting on your lower back. You try to calm your respiration so that he can’t hear how short of breath you are, but based on his own breathing, he seems to be out in five minutes. It takes you longer to fall asleep, every shift of his body sending shivers down your spine, but you manage to relax after some time, letting his warmth envelop you as you drift off to sleep.

--

The feeling of waking up with you in his arms is so unreal, Jake thinks he might still be dreaming.

He looks down at your peaceful sleeping face and can’t stop the smile that spreads on his lips. Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but this is a sight he particularly wants to commit to memory. He watches fondly as the bright sun rays of the early morning hit your face, making you scrunch your eyebrows and bury your face deeper against him. You grunt softly, and when he feels you shifting and stretching your legs, he pretends to fall asleep so you don’t catch him staring. It seems like you’ve raised your head, chin tilted towards him - if he’s lucky, you’re watching him “sleep” just like he did seconds ago.

He contains a smile at the joke that forms itself in his brain before shooting his eyes open, catching you off guard during what you thought was a private, secret moment. 

“Shit!” you yelp, practically jumping off of him and rolling onto the other side of the bed. He bursts into laughter, proud that his little prank was effective. Before you can scold him, he makes his way to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing your back against his chest. He thinks he feels your body tense; but then you bring your hand over his, swiping your thumb back and forth against his skin, and you relax in his hold. “You’re so annoying,” you complain, but your voice is tender, almost weak.

He buries his face in your hair, trying not to be too loud when he inhales there. “Sorry,” he says, the smile evident in his voice. “The opportunity was right there. Caught you staring, huh?”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Jake is more than happy to enjoy this moment in silence, but there’s something burning the tip of his tongue. It’s been there for a while now, but he thinks he’s finally found the right moment. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“There’s something I couldn’t tell you last night, but I feel oddly okay saying it right now. Are you listening?” 

“I am, yeah,” you say gently, voice so soft it caresses his skin and draws goosebumps from it.

His chest expands and falls with a deep, shaky breath. With your back right against it, he’s scared you’ll hear that his heart is beating faster than it should. “Bad news first?” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“Uh-oh.”

“There’s no roundabout way to say this, so here goes, I guess.” He takes another breath. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.” You tense in his embrace, and he waits for you to say something, anything before he continues.

“Oh,” is all you say. He hopes it’s a good oh - even if it isn’t, he doesn’t let it deter him.

“Yeah. I really debated telling you this… I know you might not feel the same way. But I also know that if I don’t say anything and make the same mistake twice, I’ll beat myself up over it for the rest of my life.”

“The same mistake?” you ask, looking at him over your shoulder.

He gazes down at you tenderly, pushing hair away from your face with a gentle hand. “I already felt that way back when we lived in Australia. I was about to tell you but when I learned that I was moving, I didn’t wanna risk ruining the little time we had left together.”

The look on your face both breaks his heart and patches it up again. “Jakey…” you say, voice just a whisper. You turn around to face him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. The fact that you’re not saying much is making his stomach twist in agonising stress, but he takes it as a good sign that you’re still holding him tight and not running away.

“I think I’d be the luckiest guy on Earth if you felt the same way,” he says, hopefulness clear in his voice. 

And then he finally hears the words he’s been dying to hear all these years. “Of course, I feel the same way, Jake,” you say, eyes meeting his. “This isn’t bad news at all, it’s like, the best possible news ever.”

It takes him a few seconds, but when your words sink in, a bright smile graces his features. He feels tears coming up - tears of relief that you feel the same way, of sadness that it took the both of you so long to get here, of happiness that something new might start - he’s not sure. Perhaps everything at once.

“Of course?” he echoes, smiling wildly. “It wasn’t obvious to me.”

“Oh, gosh,” you murmur, burying yourself into him once more. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

He tightened his hold around you, bringing you to him as close as physically possible. “Me neither.”

The feeling of you tangling your bare legs with his and bunching up the fabric of his t-shirt in your fist awakens something in him - he had been in his head, thanking the heavens that you loved him back, reeling from his belated confession, but he was now very aware of his body. And of yours. He was reminded of Jay telling him to kiss you - although he hadn’t needed to go there to reveal his feelings to you, it was still a possibility. It was even more so now that he knew you felt the same way. 

He tries to be subtle as he brushes a hand up your back to the nape of your neck, gently grazing his fingernails against the skin there. He has to suppress a self-satisfied smirk when he feels you squirm under his touch, lifting your head to fix him with a scolding look. Your stern expression fades as soon as his eyes fall on your lips, however, and you quickly mirror his gaze. His lips part, and he feels his whole body shake as he takes a deep breath in. Who knew that you’d share your first kiss on a random Sunday morning in the fuckass middle of nowhere in Scotland?

Maybe you take pity on him, or you recognise the effort put into being the one to make the first move, or, as he’d like to think, you just really want to kiss him - either way, you’re the one who closes the gap and presses your lips to his.

Your lips. So soft, so delicate against his, absolutely perfect. It’s a simple, tentative touch, but he’s craved it for so long that it makes his head spin. He frowns, despite himself instantly needing more than this feather-like feeling of your lips brushing against each other. His mind tells him to calm down and take it slow, but his body takes over, urging him to grab the nape of your neck a little harder, to hold you a little closer to him, to kiss you a little stronger. Thankfully, you let him do all of this and more, hands finding purchase in his hair and returning his intensity tenfold. 

He doesn’t know what’s better - the fact that you’re kissing him or the kiss itself. The way your lips move against his is intoxicating; it wraps itself around its mind and leaves no room for thoughts that aren’t of you. You seem to want him as desperately as he wants you, to have waited for him as long as he did for you, and this is what drives him crazy. You press your body against his and he sees stars; you let out a moan against his lips and he kisses you deeper, ready to do anything to hear that melody again. 

Unfortunately, the only melody he gets to hear is that of his phone alarm, informing you that it’s quarter to eleven and that you have fifteen minutes to leave. Check-out at eleven am had sounded nice yesterday; now, he would stay in this dingy inn his whole life if it meant he got to keep kissing you. 

The both of you reluctantly break apart, bursting into giddy laughter when your eyes meet. As said before, Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but with your pupils blown and your lips plump from kissing, this might just be the prettiest he’s ever seen you. 

“You know, I like you a lot, but I’d like you even more if you could stop time,” you say.

He looks down at you with a smile, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen on your face. “Sure, I’ll learn how to control time for you.”

“Thanks, Jakey.” You peck his lips, lingering, and he closes his eyes to savour your sweetness. 

“Anything for you, baby.” His eyes widen at the nickname slip, but you erupt into giggles.

“Baby?”

“Would you look at the time, we really got to go,” he says, detangling his limbs from yours. He pauses for a second. “Baby,” he repeats, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before bouncing from the bed.

You get ready together, and the mundane tasks of stripping sheets from a bed and packing bags become the funnest things he’s ever done. You’re all over each other, attacking the other with kisses and hugs; Jake doesn’t think he’s ever felt quite this happy. 

And this is only the beginning.

--

There’s a glint in the receptionist’s eyes when you check out of your room, as if she knew something you and Jake had been oblivious to all along. It’s the only one in town, so you go back to the little pub for a full breakfast with eggs, hash browns, haggis, and sausages. You get coffee so strong you think you might not sleep for the next four days, while Jake drinks tea that is equal parts sugar, milk, and actual tea.

From the moment you leave the pub to the moment you arrive at your doorstep, Jake’s hands barely leave yours. When they have to, like when you’re searching for the perfect seat on the train or when the controller checks your tickets, they’re back together within a minute, like two magnets that can’t stay apart for too long. The rain has long subsided, leaving place to a bright blue sky and wet blades of grass that shine in the sun. 

Now that your mutual feelings don’t need to be kept secret, you tell each other about everything you had to go through, like you pretending your good news was your mum having baked the cookies Jake liked and him seeing your new boyfriends every two months on your close friends story. He tells you about all the hints he’s dropped, causing you to facepalm over and over again. It feels like two friends catching each other to speed on all the latest gossip, except the topic of that gossip is you.

The juxtaposition of your familiarity with Jake with the novelty of behaving like a couple, of not having to hold back with your touches or gazes or words, is nothing if not jarring. But you have a feeling you’ll get used to it in no time. 

As you unlock the front door to your building, you don’t ask him if he’s coming up - to you, it’s a given that you’ll be spending the rest of today and every day after that together. So when he doesn’t follow you, staying still on the threshold, you turn around with a questioning look on your face. 

“There’s something I need to do this afternoon,” he says, taking both of your hands in his.

“Can’t I come with?” you say. Jake wavers for a second, but sadly, he stays firm in his decision.

“Sorry, baby, it’s a surprise. I’ll be back at seven with takeout?”

You can’t possibly be mad at him when he calls you baby and offers food in the same breath. “Only if you bring takeout.”

“You only love me because I feed you, don’t you?” he asks, a smile on his face.

“Yup,” you reply. You’re standing on a step, so you bend down to kiss him - you intend for it to be a peck, but when your lips touch, you’re unable to pull away. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, in the warmth that takes over your body and makes your brain all fuzzy. 

A loud, affronted gasp from behind you makes you jump from Jake, and when you turn around, Chaewon and Yunjin are standing in the stairwell, staring at you with wide eyes and gaping mouths. 

“So this was a sexcapade?” is, much to your horror, the first thing Yunjin says.

Thanks to Chaewon, neither you nor Jake have the time to dwell on this sentence as she comes running down the stairs and pounces on you. You don’t know how a woman so small can have such force, but her hug is so tight you can barely breathe, let alone hug her back properly. “I knew you could do it!” she exclaims. When she pulls away, she seems so moved, it looks like she’s about to cry. “You finally popped your Jake cherry,” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for Jake to hear. A bark of laughter escapes his throat.

“Okay, thanks, guys,” you say, escaping this awkward situation and going up the stairs. “I’ll see you later, Jake!” you yell over your shoulder. The girls seem to be on their way out, and you’re more than happy leaving him to deal with them on his own. God knows you’ll get the worst of it when they come back. 

As soon as you get to your flat, you make a beeline for your bedroom, plopping on the bed. You’re the same person, and this is the same room. But something within you feels entirely different, like a scar that you had been carrying around had, without you even noticing, healed so well you could barely see it anymore. You lifted your hands in the air, looked at the back of them, then at your palms. They were the same old hands that had been with you your whole life, and you were almost shocked that there wasn’t something utterly different about them after having held Jake’s hand for so long. Just to be sure, you sniffed your right hand, but it didn’t smell any different, either. But you still felt Jake’s hand on yours, like headphones you’d been wearing for hours and still felt on your ears after taking them off.

Yunjin and Chaewon are back from their shopping half-an-hour later; they got you a chocolate fudge cake from Tesco to congratulate you. “You guys are acting like this is my birthday…” you say, eyeing the cake greedily as Chaewon cuts it into three equal parts (even though it says serves eight on the packaging). 

“This is more important than your birthday, Y/N,” Yunjin states as she pours oat milk into three cups of Earl Grey tea. “This is, like, the moment of a lifetime.”

“Are you saying a girl’s importance depends on her having a boyfriend?”

“Yes, Y/N, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Especially when said boyfriend is the guy she’s been pining after for all of her teenage and adult life.”

You sigh. “Well, he hasn’t exactly popped the boyfriend and girlfriend question yet.” They both turn to look at you, an annoyed look on their faces. You stand up straight, uncomfortable under their gazes. “What?”

“Usually, I’m all for clarity on this issue,” Chaewon starts. “But isn’t it pretty obvious here?”

“You’re still gonna have to tell us everything in minute detail, but Jake’s already told us what happened. He had no qualms referring to you as his girlfriend, so I really don’t think this is something you need to worry about. What you should worry about is when and where you’re going to hop on that dick.”

Chaewon bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but follow suit. “Gosh, Yunjin, you really do have a way with words.”

“I know. This is what having a Jane Austen hyperfixation at fifteen will do to you.”

Following Yunjin’s orders, you tell them about the events of the previous day and this morning over tea and cake. They ooh and ah and gasp in all the right places, ask you very specific questions and even make you draw a picture of the room you stayed in. You’ve talked to them about Jake so many times that there’s only so much to say now - but still, you talk for hours on end, deviating off-topic so often you end up talking about something else entirely. 

You’re in bed reading for your Middle English Literature class when the doorbell rings. It’s seven on the dot, so it can be no one else other than Jake. It’s been mere hours, but you’ve missed him enough to last you for weeks. 

He brought takeaway from the Indian place you’d raved about a hundred times but hadn’t brought him to yet. Somehow, your heart grows even fonder as you watch his reaction to the food, the raise of his eyebrows, the widening of his eyes, the excited shimmy of his shoulders. When you ask him about his afternoon, a wide smile breaks out onto his face, like a lightbulb illuminating a room. Without a word, he scurries to your room, bringing back some sort of book with him. He hands it to you  with a shy smile and curious eyes, eagerly anticipating your reaction. The cover reads Y/N and Jake in his clumsy but endearing handwriting, with the date of his arrival in Edinburgh and an em-dash scribbled underneath. “I haven’t booked my flight home yet, so I’ll add the second date later,” he explains. 

When you flick through it, you’re met with photographs of you and Jake on all of the trips you’ve done so far, as well as the various adventures you got up to in the city. There’s even one of you sleeping in the library at two am during midterms when you had forgotten about one of your essays, due at midday. Jake had come with coffee and words of encouragement, and now he could brag that the high mark you got was thanks to him. It’s not only photos - it’s also ticket stubs, receipts, stickers, and even a dried flower you had found pretty on your trip to St. Andrews. He’s also written quite a lot, from diary-like entries about what you got up to that day or songs that reminded him of you. 

“You misspelt right here,” you say, pointing to a sentence that reads This is the café write next to the hotel where the last Harry Potter book is said to have been written!!! under a photo of you drinking a massive cup of hot chocolate. The more you look at the typo, the more it makes you laugh, until you have tears brimming in your eyes.

Thanks to Yunjin’s messiness, pens and pencils are strewn over your coffee table. Jake, flushed red in embarrassment at the small mistake, snatches a pencil and aggressively erases write, spelling it correctly the second time around. “This is the level of today’s English Lit undergrads,” he murmurs under his breath. His frown disappears when he looks at you and he laughs along.

You continue looking through the album until you land on a page titled Why I love Y/N. From top to bottom, left to right, it’s filled with Jake’s tiny handwriting. You can tell he put effort into making it neat. There’s a singular photograph of you, one that dates from the first days after Jake’s arrival when you were walking around in the Meadows, the park right next to campus. The sun shone down on you and you smiled brightly at Jake behind the camera.  

You’re not a quarter through reading when tears swell in your eyes, rendering your vision blurry. You wipe them away before they can fall and stain the page. Jake has detailed every last thing he loves about you. It can hardly get cornier than this, but the fact that he wrote this about you makes your heart so full, you’re afraid it might explode in your chest. It ranges from basic things like the way she makes me laugh or her pretty face when she falls asleep in the train (or anywhere, for that matter) to more you-specific things like the strict pastel colour-coding she uses for her notes and her perseverance when eating spicy food even though she can’t take it. He mentions things about you that you didn’t even know, and that feeling of being known in-and-out, of being really seen by someone else only brings more tears to your eyes. Your favourite line comes at the end - the way she makes any place feel like home. A proper sob pushes past your lips at this, and Jake, who had been watching you with an anxious smile, rests a palm on your knee and inches closer to you.

“Why are you crying, is- Did I write something bad?”

You shake your head fervently. “No, no, Jakey, this is… It’s perfect. I’m just…” you trail, letting out a half-sob, half-chuckle. You look at him with a smile before pulling him into a tight hug. “I love it so much. I love you so much.”

You can feel Jake relax against you. “I love you too, baby. I’m glad you like it.”

You pull away after a small while, and turn the next page over. It’s a picture of you over breakfast this morning, with words WE’RE DATING!!!! written underneath it, and those simple words make you so happy, your cheeks ache from smiling. But every page after that is empty. Jake scratches the back of his neck. “I, um, I thought we could fill the rest out together. I debated just doing it myself and giving it to you at the end of the year, but I thought it’d be more fun doing it together.”

“It would. This is such an amazing idea,” you say, flicking back through the pages.

“I thought of it because of that project I had. When I started working on it, all the photos I wanted to include were of you, but I wasn’t sure how much my professor would appreciate that… So I decided to make one more personal. One for us,” he says shyly, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“Thank you so much, Jakey.”

He smiles. “It’s no worries.”

“Did you do it all this afternoon?”

“I had started it before, but I added it most of today, yeah. Which, by the way, awful timing. I wanted nothing more than to spend today with you.”

Your heart leaps. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to hearing such words from Jake’s mouth.

Sometime later, you’re laying in bed with Jake between your legs, watching the most recent animated Spiderman movie. With the tips of your fingers, you draw random patterns on his forearm, and if it wasn’t for his occasional chuckles, you’d think he had fallen asleep. You chat for a bit after the movie, but you find that after such an emotionally-packed day, you’re ready to call it a night fairly early. But when the lights are off and it’s just you lying against Jake’s chest, his fingernails grazing your scalp and his familiar, comforting scent clouding your judgement, all thoughts of an early night are thrown out of the window.

You shouldn’t feel so nervous - you had fallen asleep in his arms last night, and it had gone well. Really well. 

“This is different from yesterday, isn’t it?” Jake suddenly says, breaking the heavy silence with a low voice. It’s like he read your mind.

“Yeah,” you whisper against his skin.

No other words are needed. You brush the tip of your nose along his neck until you reach his jawline, pressing soft kisses there and delighting in the increasing shakiness of his breath. The feeling of your lips meeting is so intense, so all-encompassing, that you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle anything more.

This is still new territory, but you’re both so eager to discover it that it makes for a messy kiss, lips moving against each other ravenously, tongues beckoning moans from the other. It’s a kiss that somehow leaves you breathless and breathes oxygen back into your lungs at once. 

In a matter of seconds, Jake has flipped you on your back and is hovering over you, one hand holding him up and one hand free to roam your body. He slips it underneath your t-shirt, brushes it along the side of your waist, his touch leaving behind a trail of fire blazing on your skin. It’s so distracting, you can’t even kiss him back properly anymore. Jake doesn’t seem to mind. At first, when he starts pressing hot kisses to your jawline and your neck, you think he’s giving you a respite - but when he gently sinks his teeth into the skin there, leaving marks that will later remind you tonight wasn’t a dream, chuckling as you squirm and whine under him, you understand that this is anything but a respite. 

You curse your earlier decision of not wearing a bra, because it gives you no preparation whatsoever to the sensation of Jake brushing his thumb against one of your nipples. With a loud gasp, your back arches off of the bed, which only aids Jake in raising your t-shirt up over your breasts. 

He takes a minute to admire the sight of you panting and half-naked underneath him. It makes you feel shy, and you want to do something so that he stops looking and starts doing, but his gaze holds you in place. His pupils are blown with lust, eyes raking over your body and taking everything in. You have a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that it’s you he’s looking at with those eyes. 

His soft lips attach themselves to your nipple while his fingers continue their work on the other one. You’ve never felt this sensitive, never felt this on edge, like you might fall apart at any second even with so little simulation. Your core throbs, impatiently waiting to be tended to, but you’re already trembling so hard from Jake’s attention to your breasts that you don’t know what will happen to you once he actually touches you down there.

“You doing okay, baby?” he asks, the rasp in his voice making you want him impossibly more. You grip his hair and he looks up at you, a tender smile on his lips. You nod your head yes and he laughs. “Yeah? You want more?” You pause at his question. You do want more, but is it worth your sanity?

It takes you a second to decide that it’s worth that and more. You nod again. 

Jake seems to have sensed your hesitation. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I am. It’s just a lot.”

His expression of worry softens into a smile. “I’ll take it slow for you, love. It’s a lot for me, too.” He leans in to press soft kisses to your cheek, and some of the tension in your body diffuses. Whatever happens, Jake will be there to take care of you. “But it feels good, right?” he asks, lips moving against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“So good, Jakey,” you reply shakily.

“Good.”

You can tell that Jake really does want to take it slow - his movements are more deliberate, gentler. But eagerness, both yours and his, soon takes over, and a minute later, he’s trailing kisses down your body until he reaches your lower stomach. Your breath quickens as he hooks fingers underneath your leggings and underwear, sliding both garments down your legs and leaving you bare to him. You think the feeling of his lips on the fleshy parts of your inner thighs is what might actually do you in, make you lose your sense of reality forever - but then his tongue darts out against your clit, a barely-there touch, and your whole body flatlines. 

Your reaction eggs Jake on, who, more confident now, takes the sensitive bud in his lips and alternates between sucking and licking motions. A knot ties itself embarrassingly quickly in your stomach, a knot that tightens and tightens as Jake flattens his tongue against you, licking up your juices from your entrance to your clit; a knot that threatens to come loose when he slides a long finger inside of you. You can’t take more than thirty seconds of this.

“Jakey,” you say, voice practically a moan. Your brain is fuzzy and it takes a distressing amount of time to form a simple sentence. “Can you come here?”

“Is something wrong, baby?” he asks breathily, sliding his finger out of you and coming back up so that his face is right above yours. 

“No, just… I want you.”

Any trace of worry on Jake’s features dissipates as he cocks an eyebrow, one corner of his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Is that so?”

This kind of boldness would usually have you rolling your eyes, but here, it only makes your core throb more violently. It’s almost humiliating how much you want this man. It’s definitely humiliating, how easy it is to swallow your pride and play into his game. “Yes, please,” you say, eyes pleading with him.

He smiles almost giddily before burying his face against the side of yours. “My baby’s so polite,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Take this off, then,” you say, grabbing the bottom hem of his t-shirt. 

“So she says please and gives orders,” he jokes, quickly obliging anyway. 

Not once in your time apart had Jake posted any sort of beach trip or pool photos, so this was the first time you saw his bare chest. God, was it one for the history books. You trace the defined lines of his muscles with a finger and wonder how he had managed to get even more perfect. He lets you marvel at him for it, clearly proud that you’re gawking so shamelessly, but your mind drifts back to more urgent matters when he presses himself into you, his clothed cock, hard and hot, brushing against your folds. “Fuck,” you sigh, bucking your hips into his to feel him over and over again.

It’s so much, but it’s not enough; Jake instantly gets your message when you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, pulling him to you and kissing him feverishly. Your lips don’t part as he slides his boxers off, and you drink up the nectar that are his moans as you take him in your hand, pumping him a few times.

“Condom?” he asks, but you shake your head.

“I’m on the pill. And even so… I usually always use a condom, but I don’t want to now. Not with you.”

Jake closes his eyes as he takes a deep, stabilising breath. “I feel totally normal about that. Not crazy at all.”

You giggle, and he opens his eyes, a wide smile gracing his lips before he bends down to kiss you. “You ready for the night of your life?” he asks against your lips. “It’s gonna last five minutes, tops,” he says, making you laugh again. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t do anything about it. I think I could’ve cum just from eating you out.”

“That would’ve been hot.”

“Really? We’ll make it a challenge for next time, then.”

When Jake plunges into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He fills you up, slow inch by slow inch, until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. You both need some time getting used to the feeling - Jake drops his head in the crook of your neck and lets out a sound between a grunt and a moan, something you’ve never heard from him before. You grab onto his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin as you try to tether yourself to him. You hold him so tight that he has no choice but to let his body rest on top of yours, his arms coming to circle your waist and bring you even closer. 

His movements start out halting, the pleasure so overwhelming that it makes it hard for him to move steadily. In time, he falls into a torturously slow rhythm, but it’s the perfect kind of torture, the kind that has tears brimming in your eyes. It’s so hard to take, and yet you want more. You’re brought closer to the edge with every thrust of his dick into you, especially as he picks up the pace and lifts your hips to meet his. The new angle has his tip brushing against that spot deep inside you that makes it hard to breathe. 

You can tell he’s just as close as you when he loses that steady rhythm he had found, his motions growing more desperate, harsher, quicker. Conscious of your roommates, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as your orgasm washes over you, your whole body on fire, so sensitive that the few more seconds Jake needs to come undone himself drive both your body and your mind into overstimulation. Even the feeling of him pulling out, drops of hot liquid dripping out of your entrance, is too much and makes you let out a small, tired whine. 

Jake peppers your face with kisses as he holds your waist tightly, brushing his thumb back-and-forth on your warm skin, sticky with sweat. “You did so well, baby. So good for me.” You think you might be ready for a second round if he keeps talking to you like that. “I love you so much.”

You sigh deeply, as if you were just told disconcerting news. “Okay.”

“Okay?!” he echoes, looking up at you with an outraged expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, I love you too, I just- I’m not used to this yet! You can’t just tell me you love and expect me to be normal. You have to warn me first.”

“Can I just warn you now that I’m going to tell you I love you every time I get the chance?”

You sigh. “I guess.” 

“Can I tell you now?” he asks, and you hum. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Jake tuts. “I highly doubt it, but whatever makes you happy.”

You hold Jake close to you, one arm around his shoulders and the other hand playing with his hair as you come down from your high. You think he might’ve fallen asleep, and you’re close to drifting off yourself when he speaks. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Not just the sex, although that has been on my mind for a while now,” he says, making you laugh, “but all of this. Being together, getting to be in your arms like this, kissing you whenever I want. Calling you my girlfriend.”

“Me too, Jakey. I waited so long I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

Jake chuckles. “How stupid were we not to have noticed we felt the same way?”

“Very stupid. I think we felt so sorry for ourselves that we were stuck in one-sided love, that we didn’t even realise the other was going through the exact same thing. But at least we’re now.”

“At least we’re here now.” You and Jake yawn at the exact same time, making you burst into giggles, giddy with sleep and love.

“Let’s sleep, baby,” you say.

Jake hums, burying himself deeper against your body. “Sleep well, my love. I’ll be here.”

--

After years of pining after each other, you and Jake find it a bit hard to keep your relationship to yourselves, or your hands off of each other.

At the beginning, all of your friends had been happy for you, but that quickly went away when your and Jake’s honeymoon phase never died down and the PDA just kept on going. If the glue you were stuck with previously was metaphorical, this one was pretty close to being real. Superglue kept you together, your moments together rarely spent without some sort of physical touch. Yunjin fake-gagged so often, you were afraid she might actually vomit one of these days. It took Sunghoon two weeks longer than everyone else to clock you and Jake had started dating.

This meant that in private, there was truly no holding back. Jake back-hugged you any chance he got, to the point you started to think he was more koala than human - although that’d imply he saw you as a tree. Make-out sessions were a particular favourite of yours - how could they not be when your boyfriend’s lips seemed to have been carved by God himself, soft and plump to the heavens, like they were made to be kissed. Really, you were just honouring God’s will when you kissed Jake.  

The goodbye that comes at the end of the year is not an easy one, and the month spent at home before you fly to Korea seems to never end. But you get there eventually, and as nice as it is to catch up with Jake’s parents after so long, you feign sleepiness after lunch as an excuse to get some time alone with your boyfriend. Ironically, this “time alone” is spent so intensely that you do end up falling asleep afterwards. 

You have to admit, you really did a number on your boyfriend this time - what can a girl do when she missed her boyfriend this much? Jake is still passed out when you wake up from your nap, so you slip out as discreetly as you can from his embrace and get out of bed. You head for the closet first and swipe the comfiest looking sweater of his that you find there so you can stay warm as you look around his room. A pang of melancholia hits your chest - most of the pictures and objects on his walls and shelves are parts of his life you weren’t around to witness. Friends you don’t recognize, places you’ve never heard of, phases you’d never known he’d gone through. But then you see the frame on his desk, a faded photo of the two of you at ten years of age, eating ice cream on the bench outside of your house. Milo is sitting at your feet. Jake’s family hadn’t adopted Layla yet. You realise that even if there’s whole parts of your life you didn’t get to share with each other, nothing could touch your memories, or your future.

You want to go back in time and tell fourteen-year-old you that no matter how painful it might seem at the moment, it will all be worth it for the sight of Jake Sim slowly drifting into wakefulness, patting the bed next to him, and noticing you’re missing with furrowed eyebrows. When he opens his eyes and they settle on you, a sleepy smile will grace his dazzling features, and he’ll say, “Come back to bed.”

You’ll be even more in love at twenty than at fourteen.

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#enhypen smut #jake smut #enhypen x reader #jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen oneshots #jake sim oneshots #enhypen imagines #jake sim imagines #enhypen fluff #jake fluff

[moonstruckme]

Hi 🥺 can I pretty please ask for a fic with emt!marauders treating and helping reader get through getting stitches? Maybe having a huge fear of needles and they always make her so faint and nauseous so the boys fix up their clumsy girl and coach her through getting them because it’s just the absolute worst time ever?

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting! These always get so long because I get wrapped up in the semantics haha. I don’t think this is an accurate reflection of how things work for paramedics, but for the purposes of fiction we’re gonna ignore that :3

Cw: needles, hospital, mention of nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

James is murmuring what you imagine to be placations into the side of your head, so quietly you can’t make them out, and you’re doing your best to keep your hand completely still as a nurse cleans the cut on your palm. 

Sirius is watching you from beside the small bed with tension written all over him. He’s digging his fingernails into his biceps and looking like he might actually jump the nurse if she makes a wrong move. 

“Where’s Remus?” he asks, not for the first time. 

“He’s just finishing up with another patient,” she answers again. “He’ll be here shortly.” 

As eager as you are to see your boyfriend, dread curls like vines around your ribcage. James, sensing this, presses his lips to your temple. 

Ordinarily, paramedics don’t handle stitches, but at your request and after some sweet-talking on James’ part, the director agreed to let Remus see to you. What was staunchly not allowed, however, was for anyone not currently on shift to step in, so your remaining two boyfriends are stuck providing emotional support. James seems to be taking this better, whereas Sirius has been antsy and overprotective since you’d arrived. 

A fraction of the tautness in his biceps dissipates when a familiar set of quick footsteps draws closer on the tiled floor outside your curtain. The nurse is the only one who doesn’t seem to notice, the three of you perking up like meerkats the moment before Remus pulls back the curtain, stepping inside. 

“Hi,” he says, a small, automatic smile curving his lips at the sight of all of you. 

The nurse finishes with perfect timing, tossing the wipe into the trash as she starts to leave. You and Remus both thank her, and once the curtain closes the four of you in together everything feels suddenly more right. You hear James sigh softly.

Remus gets closer than he was willing with a colleague present, wrapping a kind hand around your elbow and soothing upward from there. “Hi, darling,” he says again, softer now. “They tell me you’ve had a kitchen accident.” 

“Totally intentional,” James jokes. “We all just really missed you, needed an excuse to visit.” 

You try to laugh for his sake, and though it’s not fully felt it still helps to loosen the knot of unease in your chest. 

Remus smiles gently. His thumb strokes up and down the back of your arm. “How are you doing?” he asks you. 

You do your best to smile back at him, though from Sirius’ expression it must not be very good. “Honestly? I already feel kind of nauseous.” 

“That’s okay,” he promises, and you can tell he’s making his voice extra low and smooth on purpose. Any other time you might laugh at him for it, but actually it’s quite helpful. “It makes sense to be a bit nervous, yeah? But you won’t feel anything, and so long as you don’t look at it while I’m working I think we’ll be all right.” 

Remus looks you in the eyes for a moment longer to make sure you understand. His eyes are the color of tea steeped just the way you like it, warm and honey-sweet. And maybe you’re feeling vulnerable and mushy, but you think you fall a little more in love with him. 

You nod, letting him take your injured hand. 

“I have to numb it,” he warns you, “and that will likely be the hardest part, but once it’s done things will go fairly easily. Okay?” 

You press your lips together, nodding again not because you want to but because you know you don’t have much choice. James readjusts his hold on you, gripping you tightly with one arm around your shoulders and the other folding your head into his chest. You suspect it’s partly to keep you from moving and partly because he knows you need it, but it feels as though he’s just doing his best to give you a continual hug. You appreciate the effort. 

You follow the movement of Remus’ hand as he picks up a syringe from the tray the nurse had brought in. There’s that odd tingly feeling of the blood draining from your face, the awful queasiness in your stomach. 

“Don’t look,” Sirius tells you, voice just as caring as it is tense. You can tell he’s trying to calm himself for your sake, even if he’s not very good at it. You’ve heard from James and Remus that he’s cool as a cucumber when he works with other patients, but when it’s you or someone he cares about he can’t help getting a bit rattled. “You’re okay, baby, just close your eyes. Think of something else.” 

You can manage the first but not the second. When you feel Remus shifting his hold on your hand your breaths shallow. 

“Quick poke,” he murmurs, and your grip on James tightens as his does on you. 

Though you think you’re prepared for it, a mortifying pained sound rises in your throat at the sting. Both James and Sirius coo sympathetically, but then it’s done, and Remus is murmuring praises while James presses kiss after kiss into your hair. 

You open your eyes to find Sirius has moved closer. He passes you a vomit bag, and you take it thankfully, trying to breathe through the closure in your throat. 

“You’ve got it,” he tells you, brows knit together by both sympathy and concern. “You’re okay, it’s already over with.” 

“I don’t really feel like I’m completely out of the woods,” you try to joke. The truth to it tightens something in you nonetheless. 

“You won’t even feel the rest,” James assures you, still with his lips stuck to you like it’s his job. He smells nice, his eucalyptus shampoo cutting through the icky hospital scent. “You’ll hardly know it’s happening, lovie, we’ll just talk about other things and be out of here before you know it.” 

“I really don’t want to faint,” you say. “I feel like today has been bad enough without fainting.” 

“I’m inclined to agree,” says Remus. You’ve been avoiding looking at him, wary of catching sight of another needle or worsening your nausea by seeing your cut, but his gloved hands are empty. He cradles your injured hand in one, the other drawing a tranquilizing path up and down the side of your thigh. “You won’t faint, sweetheart. We’ll do our best to keep you distracted, and if you need to take breaks we can do that. It’s whatever you need.” 

You blow out a long breath, nodding. Remus gives you a small smile. 

“I only ask that you don’t hold any of this against me,” he teases. “I’m going to require lots of assurance that you’re not upset when I get home.” 

James coos, sounding like he’s considering pulling Remus into your hug as well. 

“No, I know this is all my own fault,” you admit. Sirius huffs his agreement. “I could never hold my clumsiness against you.” 

“I appreciate that.” Remus sends Sirius an intrigued look. “Though maybe I’ll have to make it up to you by cooking, since it seems like you could be barred from the kitchen for some time. Can you feel that?” 

You blink at him. “Feel what?” 

“Good.” 

Remus starts messing with things on the tray again, and both James and Sirius seem to come to attention, James putting his arm around your head again while Sirius pulls up a chair by the bed. 

“The medicine’s working,” Remus tells you, “so I’m going to go ahead and get started, okay? Just try and relax for me, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes go automatically to what he’s doing, but Sirius says sharply, “Hey.” 

That gets your attention, and he gives you an apologetic look, gentling his tone as he takes your good hand. 

“Just look at me,” he tells you. You don’t know if he knows it, but his thumb is tracing a line below your thumb that’s exactly where your cut is on your other palm. “Are you okay to talk, pretty girl?” 

You hum. It comes out high-pitched and shakier than you would’ve expected. 

“Why don’t you tell us about that book you want Remus to read?” 

For a moment, surprise eclipses your anxiety. “You really wanna hear about that?” 

Sirius grins. “No, but you’ve got a captive audience. If I were you I’d seize my chance.” 

You start to smile back at him, but then there’s an odd tugging sensation on your hand. Sirius notices the change, moving to block your view with his hand before you can look towards Remus’ work. Still, your stomach rolls uneasily. Your head feels unnaturally light. 

Sirius says your name firmly. “Tell us about the book, baby.” 

“It’s…” You fight to solidify your thoughts. “It’s a true story.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I thought it was fiction, but it’s not.” Another tug, and you whimper. “Sorry, I don’t feel well.” 

“You’re doing great,” James says, and Sirius takes the bag from you, opening it up in case you need it. “Just stay relaxed, we’ve got you.” 

“What’s the true story?” Sirius asks, trying to get you back on task. “What’s it about?” 

“This guy,” you answer. “He’s from Syria, but he lives in New Orleans and he’s there when Hurricane Katrina hits. I’m not that far in, but so far it’s about, like—” you swallow “—how he’s discriminated against even when he’s helping people.” 

Though you try to stop it, a tear skids down your cheek. Sirius wipes it away gently. “Yeah?” he asks you. “Are you liking it so far?” 

You nod, feeling more in your own body as you try to focus on the conversation. Even the panic is a bit of a relief, better than the strange weightlessness of your head when you’re on the brink of passing out. 

“I don’t think I would have picked it up if I’d known it was nonfiction,” you tell Sirius. He smiles wryly, which looks like it takes effort. “I usually only read fiction, but this was done really well.” 

“I think you’re right,” he replies. “Remus absolutely should read that.” 

“Not you?” James teases. 

Sirius shoots a mean look over your head, though you can tell he’s relieved at the familiar banter. “Are you volunteering?” he asks James. “No? Didn’t think so.” 

“Surely there’s a movie version we can watch instead. Lovie, do you know?” 

“I haven’t heard of one,” you admit, “but the book’s a bit older, so maybe the movie came out before I’d heard about it.” 

“We’ll have to look it up,” Sirius decides. “If it’s really that good, there’ll be a movie.” 

That’s something you could argue about forever, and he knows it, but just then you hear something snip and Remus says, “There.” 

“There?” you echo. 

Sirius looses a breath, and James hugs you tightly. “You’re all done, angel,” he says brightly. 

“Oh.” You feel, perhaps, not as relieved as you ought to, and Sirius chuckles at your confusion, taking your face between his hands and planting a kiss between your brows. 

“You really are done,” he promises you. “You killed it, babe.” 

James loosens his grip on you and Sirius moves his hand, letting you turn your head to see Remus securing a bandage over your palm. He looks up at you when he pulls off his gloves, pride and fondness mingled in his expression. His eyes narrow at the look on your face. 

“Hug?” he guesses, and you nod as you sit forward, wrapping your hands around his shoulders. 

It’s the closure you need, relief dissolving the tension in your muscles and gut as Remus’ thumb strokes your nape reassuringly. “Thanks,” you mumble into his shoulder. 

“You did it, darling,” he tells you. “Nothing to thank me for.” 

“Before I bled all over our counter, I was cutting tomatoes for pasta tonight,” you say. “I’ll finish it up when I get home so I can thank you with dinner.” 

Sirius scoffs loudly. “Yeah, fat chance. You’re not going near another knife for the rest of your life.” 

You roll your eyes as you pull away from Remus, but he raises an eyebrow at you, smiling faintly. “I’m with him on this one,” he says. “At least a temporary kitchen ban is in order.” 

You groan, leaning sideways until your shoulder rests on James’ chest. He wraps his arms around you automatically. “You guys are so lame,” you gripe. 

“Don’t worry, lovie,” says James, kissing the side of your nose lightly. “I’ll finish your pasta when we get home. Everybody wins.”

#emt!marauders #emt!marauders x reader #marauders au #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.

AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3

“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”

Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”

You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”

You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”

He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.

So fucking beautiful.

“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”

Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"

It's all I want. You think.

"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."

That's all I want. He thinks.

Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"

He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.

and it'll crush him.

The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."

"So?" He asks.

"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."

It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’

The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.

So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.

Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.

"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.

Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.

You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."

“Stop that.” He seethed.

It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.

Never with you.

Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.

"What--"

He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”

“Eddie…”

“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”

You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.

It’s overwhelming.

You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?

His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.

Fuck it.

“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.

You exhale his name, “Eddie,”

“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?

Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”

He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”

Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.

“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”

With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.

“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”

Warm warm warm.

It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.

Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.

There’s no one but you.

You’re everything.

I love you, please, let me love you.

Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.

“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.

Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”

“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”

He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”

Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"

He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.

"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."

You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.

"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.

Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"

A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.

You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."

You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"

You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."

Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."

"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."

He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.

"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."

"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.

You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.

"God, yes."

He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.

"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."

Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"

He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.

Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.

"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”

The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.

“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.

He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”

You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”

Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.

“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.

“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.

The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.

Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.

Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”

You’re both breathing heavy.

Now it’s his turn.

Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.

When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.

God damn...he's fucking huge.

"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"

Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.

"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."

"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.

You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.

"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.

His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"

You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.

"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.

Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.

Such a good girl.

Taking me so well.

My pretty girl.

Mine.

Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.

"Eddie, fuck, I--"

"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."

His words are like a spell.

You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.

"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"

You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."

"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.

He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.

"Hi." He says quietly.

You giggle softly, "Hi."

"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."

You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"

"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.

Nothing.

You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."

Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"

You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."

He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.

Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."

Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst

[healmydesires]

caught your fever I'll be feeling it forever ❅ (a.s)

PART TWO

❅ pairing: Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader

❅ summary: You and Anakin have always been the best of friends; who just happen to be in love and are refusing to do anything about it. OR You go on a ski trip with several of your friends and have to share a bed with your best friend, whom you’ve been harbouring feelings for years.

❅ genre: fluff + smut (18+ mdni) modern!au

❅ word count: 12,1k (uhm. sorry.)

❅ warnings/tags: friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers kinda, one bed trope + forced proximity trope, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, reader is described as shorter than anakin, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom anakin, ok… just kinda a softer anakin, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, size kink, praise kink, lots of pet names. this is not beta read sorry!

❅ a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about their blorbo! this one is so hot and dear to me likeeee always wanted to write these tropes. so here you go <3 also ngl.. majority is just smut 😭

AO3 • masterlist

❅⋆* ☾ ⋆* ❅･ﾟ:⋆* ❅･ﾟ

As you open the door to your bedroom, you drop your bag and flick on the light. The space is cosy with pine furniture and a fireplace to light when the room gets cold. The balcony allows for a picture perfect view of the distant forest and snowy landscape. The room is beautiful in its simplicity. Overall, cute and warm.

You hear Anakin swearing quietly behind you as you take in the room.

There’s one thing though.

There’s only one bed.

And it is quite tiny, looks smaller than a double, slightly bigger than a single bed, and various pillows stacked on top of each other.

A few months ago your mutual friends begged you to come along to this ski trip to the Alps. Honestly, you didn’t want to come to this trip in the first place but when Padmé, one of your closest friends told you that Anakin would come along you just couldn’t resist.

You feel your stomach coiling into knots and your body heats up as you realise you’ll have to share this bed this whole trip with your best friend. The man you’ve been hopelessly in love with for as long as you can remember.

All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes catch yours, or the way your heart beats fast whenever you are in close proximity to him. But, of course, you try to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Anakin could never feel the same way about you as you feel about him.

So far, you’ve lived twenty-four years, and throughout a huge majority of it Anakin Skywalker has been your anchor, your only constant. Being his best friend is easy, just as natural as breathing. Falling in love with him was bound to happen anyway. It’s inevitable.

“Fucking, Snips.” He grumbles under his breath.

Ahsoka had promised you that the both of you would be sharing a room together but at the last minute, she picked a bedroom for herself. The only other bedroom left. She’d give you a silent apology with the most innocent smile you had ever seen as she ran up to her room.

Every single one of your friends have already been paired up or have their own rooms and you have a feeling that they did this on purpose.

Slowly, you spin around, looking at Anakin who looks extremely flushed. He looks adorable even if he looks a little overwhelmed right now. If it weren’t for the fact that you feel just as overwhelmed as him, you would probably tease him for his pink cheeks.

“Uhm—”

“Look, I can always just take the couch downstairs.” Anakin interrupts as he grimaces, scrubbing a hand over his face before he turns around to head out the room.

You swallow nervously, steadying your breathing the best way you can before you speak.

“Ani, wait.” You call out, cringing internally at how desperate you sound. “The bed is clearly big enough for the both of us.”

He sighs as he turns around, facing you.

“Besides, the couch is much smaller than the bed,” you huff out a nervous laugh as you try to avoid his eye contact. You pick up your bag and then toss it on the bed. “And it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before.” You smile shyly up at him as you push some hair back behind your ear.

“Right.” Anakin smiles back, just as nervous as you. “Are you sure?” He tries, the idea of sharing a bed with you overwhelming him. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Ani,” you look up at him, as you frown. You’re sure you’re pouting but you don’t care. It feels as if sharing a bed with you terrifies Anakin. “Do you mind sleeping in the same bed? Am I that awful to share a bed with—”

“No!” He cuts you off with wide eyes, a bit too quickly. He clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean, no, of course not. I just, I truly don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Your heart warms up at his words. “I won’t, I promise.” You reassure him with a small but genuine smile. “As long as you’re fine with it too?”

Anakin reciprocates your smile and nods, “of course, sweetheart.”

⋆｡ﾟ❆ ☁︎ ﹡｡⋆｡❅ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ﹡❅ ༶

You can’t stop shivering.

Even hours after you’ve come back from skiing, you’re trembling. The cold not leaving your body, as you can’t seem to warm up. The warm water of the shower from earlier didn’t help either. Your hands are freezing cold, your fingers feeling like ice cubes.

You don’t like skiing, it’s one of the reasons why you were so reluctant to come along on this trip. Not because you hate the sport, but you’re just awful at it.

You’ve been trying all day to ski the right way, only for you to fall on your face in the snow every single time you thought you were getting the hang of it.

You’re certain that multiple of your friends' camera rolls, especially Ahsoka’s and even Ben’s, are now full of pictures and videos of you going down the baby slopes with all the little kids laughing at you as you kept falling down.

The worst of it all is that this wasn’t your first time skiing. You used to go skiing a lot as a kid but it’s been at least fifteen years ago that you put skis on, let alone went skiing. Even with the help of Anakin, you would continue to make a fool out of yourself. After countless times of him catching you, you finally gave up.

You truly wished you stayed at the chalet with hot chocolate and a good book.

Especially after hours of being back in the chalet, you still can’t seem to get warm. Not only are you extremely cold, your body is sore as well.

After you’ve had dinner with the whole group, you go straight to take another shower. You couldn’t wait to engulf your body in warmth again.

As you emerge from the adjacent bathroom in your pyjamas with a hoodie on top of it, after taking your second shower of the evening, you can’t help but stop and stare at the sight before you. Anakin is sitting shirtless against the headboard with some pillows propped against it to make him feel more comfortable, while he’s holding one of his sketchbooks. He’s covered in blankets and you can’t help but find him adorable as you admire him.

The change of temperature in the room is the next thing you notice, before you hear some crackling of fire. Anakin must have started the fire, to bring some warmth to the room. The fireplace illuminates the room in a beautiful warm glow, and you have to pull your eyes away as the orange lightning makes Anakin look even prettier.

Unfortunately, after your shower you still feel extremely cold. The shivering doesn’t stop.

“I lit the fireplace.” He says with a smile as he looks up from his sketches.

Despite how cold you feel, a sense of warmth spreads through your chest by his words. “Thank you, Ani. That’s very sweet.” You whisper before making your way to your side of the bed, instantly getting under the covers and blankets.

Once you are settled underneath your covers he turns his attention back to his sketchbook, resuming his drawings or doodles.

As he concentrates on his drawings, your gaze flicks over to him every one in a while, his face lit up by the orange glow of the fireplace. He’s always been pretty, that’s a fact, but you can see it now more than ever. You can’t help but admire how beautiful he looks, it nearly takes your breath away.

It’s hard to look away.

Minutes have passed and you’re still freezing, teeth chattering and body trembling as chills run up and down your arms and legs. You desperately rub your hands over your arms as you try to warm up but eventually you settle your hands underneath your arms.

The rustling of the sheets has probably caught his attention because soon Anakin calls out your name.

“Did the shower not help this time around?”

You look up as you catch him staring at you. Despite the fact that you continue to shiver underneath the covers you feel yourself get flustered as he looks at you intensely. His blue eyes shine so beautifully in the sunset glow of the room. You almost forget the question that left his lips as you quickly snap out of your daze.

You don’t trust yourself to speak. So instead, you close your eyes for a second and just simply shake your head as another huge shiver runs down your spine.

Anakin seems to contemplate with himself as he lies still after you answered. He sighs after the beat of silence, then puts his book and pencil aside.

“Come here,” he says softly as he beckons you to come to him.

A flash of heat washes over your face as you look at him. As you continue to look at him with wide eyes he rolls his eyes playfully at you. “Come on sweetheart,”

You’re used to cuddling your best friend sometimes but never in this position, and certainly not in the same bed. But you can’t help but feel your whole body crave for his touch.

You nibble on your bottom lip before you finally decide to move closer to him.

As you come closer he slowly wraps his arms around you, giving you time to pull away in case he is overstepping boundaries. Seeing that you don’t pull away, he fully wraps his arms around you; engulfing you in his embrace.

Once you settle in his touch, you’re immersed in warmth. You aren’t sure if it is the body heat your best friend radiates or if it is the blood that runs to your cheeks. Soon you realise you aren’t exactly cuddling him back. So then you wrap your arms around his body, your hands settling on his back.

The touch of your fingers grazing his bare back pulls a shiver and a gasp out of your best friend.

“Shit, angel,” he curses under his breath, pulling back from your embrace to take one of your hands in his. Then he grabs the other one and clasps them together. “Your fingers are literally frozen!”

He holds your hands between his own warm palms as he looks at you. He holds your gaze as you continue to shiver in front of him. Anakin then lowers his head. His lips hover barely an inch over your skin, then opens his mouth to release a few hot breaths directly onto your fingers.

“Sweetheart, you’re freezing.” He whispers, almost as if more to himself. He is rubbing your hands as he looks back at you.

Then he holds your eye contact as he lowers his lips to your skin again. But this time, he presses soft kisses against your knuckles.

He continues to place kisses all over your fingers and occasionally blows some warm air onto your skin. It brings a flutter to your stomach while you stumble for something to say to him. You feel yourself melt and turn putty in his touch. As he continues to shower you in his affection you can’t help but notice how soft his touch is.

“I-I—” you choke as a whirling feeling shoots through your body. Warmth rises to your face once again and all over your body as he continues to stare into your eyes.

The last time you held hands was when you were both children, when his mom took you two to get some of your fave ice cream from the ice cream truck in the park during a hot summer afternoon.

You realise that your body is still extremely close to his, as he continues to hold your hands in his. By now most of the cold has left your body. You’re not exactly sure what made it go away but you are pretty sure Anakin is somehow the reason for it. You’re convinced he is some sort of magician because how could his touch bring warmth this fast back to you.

“Are you still cold?” He asks as he holds your gaze while he plays with your fingertips.

“Yes.” You half lie, as you bite your lip.

Being so close in this bed with him makes your cheeks turn hotter. You hope Anakin can’t sense that you’re lying, because you truly don’t want his touch to leave you.

“Oh, no,” he tuts before a smile grows on his face, “we can’t have that now.” His eyes twinkle in the dim light as he looks into yours. As he releases your hands you have to hold back a whine at the loss of his touch.

But soon he wraps his arms around you again, pulling you close against him, your chest pressed against his. He sighs softly as you settle into his embrace, and you melt into him as he holds you.

You adjust your head on the pillow. Your body relaxes instantly as he lets you bury your head in the crook of his neck. You’re both incredibly close together, you can feel his heartbeat drum at the same nervous rhythm as yours.

“Feeling better?” He questions as he leans his head on the top of your head.

He chuckles as you hum in response and continue to nuzzle your face against his skin.

“A bit,” you pull at your bottom lip as you look up at him.

His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, over the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.

You feel weak around him. But in the best way.

“You’re so warm, Ani.” You blissfully sigh as you melt into him, nuzzling into his shoulder with your eyes still closed.

You hear your best friend’s breath hitch as your hands start to wander all over his back. You're feeling the soft skin of Anakin’s hips mindlessly, sending shivers up his spine as you graze your fingers slowly against his skin.

You shift your head up just slightly, his chin on your forehead as your nose touches the underside of his jaw. Across your head you can feel Anakin’s breathing, each inhale and exhale starting to deepen as your lips slowly ghost over his chin.

His head then moves away from you just slightly, and regards you for a while, as if he’s trying to determine your comfort level. As you’re both maintaining eye contact, your gaze intensifies as you’re studying Anakin’s face, including his features. You can see the little freckles, moles, his scar and the slight stubble on the lower parts of his face. Your eyes move from his eyes down the slope of his nose and soon your attention is irresistibly drawn to his lips.

The beautiful lips you’ve been dreaming about so many times.

His lips look so inviting, so soft and warm. Now that you’re thinking about kissing him, you can’t help but focus on his lips. You’ve always wondered how his lips would feel or how much you’ve always wanted them on your own. How would he kiss? Would he take his time? Or would he devour you?

There’s a moment of silence as Anakin’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.

“Ani, I—,” you start. What are you trying to say? Your heart is beating so fast, it feels almost impossible to think of anything as you look at the man in front of you. You want to tell him everything—that you want more of his affection, that you are hopelessly in love with him, and that you want to be his and his forever.

Anakin doesn’t say anything. Instead, his hands slide down to your waist, tugging you closer just a bit closer. Your eyes widen while his become more drowsy, your breath quickening as his warm breath gently fans across your face. He smells like mint, and you feel yourself lightheaded and almost intoxicated as it washes over you, making you crave him even more.

You’re feeling hot all over, a feverish feeling overwhelming your senses, your heart can’t seem to find peace and quiet, nor can your trembling limbs. It’s not the sick type of feverish, just heat. Tingling, like anticipation but threaded into your nerves, and warmth.

Then one of his hands moves to hold one of your cheeks, allowing for his face to lean even closer to yours, his eyes sliding shut. Your own follows suit as you feel yourself get lost in the feeling of him pressed gently against your body. Both of your noses then brush ever-so slightly as he tilts his head to the side, and it feels as if in that moment the world starts moving in slow-motion.

And then it happens. The two of you are kissing, so suddenly and overwhelmingly it steals the air from your lungs.

One moment you are both staring at each other’s mouths, the next he is wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body fully against him as his soft lips claim yours.

You take a split second to register it, but instinctively you press against his lips with desperation and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

He groans softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trail your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opens for you without hesitation. Anakin swirls his tongue with yours so wonderfully it makes your toes curl and warmth spreads all over your body. His hands grips at your waist and brings your body flush against his.

As you kiss him, you give yourself to Anakin completely. He tastes like a mix of cocoa and mint, the hot chocolate he drank earlier tonight and the other flavour is probably from when he brushed his teeth, and you never wanted anything else. Just Anakin, forever.

You want him to consume your very being.

The same hand as earlier comes up to your cheek again, holding your face sweetly as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper. Your heart feels like it is about to burst out from your chest. Anakin is kissing you. He wants to kiss you. You can’t seem to wrap your head around the fact that he is literally kissing you right this moment. He kisses you like you are all he needs and that there’s nothing he’d rather do than kiss you right now, so you hold onto him, knotting one hand in his hair, letting him know without words that you don’t want this to stop.

It feels like the world around you stops and the only thing that matters is Anakin, his mouth, his touch and his body against your own. And you can’t help but want more, more.

He sighs in your mouth as one of your hands comes to trace the bottom of his scar underneath his eye. He tilts your head back, giving him access to delve in your mouth deeper, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip.

Kissing him is like breathing. He brings you so much relief, a relief so instant and intense you can’t help the soft noises bubbling in your throat. You feel truly so alive. He feels like a hot cocoa on a cold winter day, like a hearth fire, like a tender embrace in the middle of the night. He feels like home.

His soft lips move yours and control the kiss, and you can’t help but melt in his arms, letting him do anything he wants. He is so good at kissing, you want to do this and stay in this moment forever.

He pulls away after what feels like hours to breathe, his warm pants fan across your heated face. He is still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moves a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. He murmurs against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. You have no idea how much I feel for you.” before delving back in for more.

You can’t do anything but fall into Anakin, the scent of chocolate and mint flooding your senses and intoxicating you better than any alcohol ever could. Your hands rove all over him, clutching and grabbing and pulling, anything to keep him exactly where he is, so close to you, right where he is supposed to be.

The long, frantic kisses become more sweet, loving pecks. You then pull away from him to look him in the eyes. Your hands rest on his chest as he smiles down at you, nothing but genuine care and adoration in his soft blue eyes. This is real. He must feel the same things as you do. It is almost too much for you to handle, a sweeter variety of tears falling down your face now as a wide, dizzy grin stretches across your face almost painfully.

“I… I’ve always dreamed of this, I… I-I love y-you, Anakin. So much more than you’ll ever know.” You stutter out before closing your eyes as you enjoy the feel of him being so close to you.

He stills, and you open your eyes. A thousand questions pop up all at once inside your brain as you look at him. Have you done something wrong? Was this too early? Did you not read the situation right?

Anakin pulls his head back, looks down at you. His lips are swollen and wet from all the kisses you two shared, his eyes wide and lips parting as he processes what you just confessed to him. Then, he brings his hand back to your cheek, cupping it gently.

He breathes out your name as his eyes dart all over your face.

His thumb runs along your lower lip, tracing it slowly, his eyes lost in wonder. You watch him for a moment, the look in his eyes as he stares at his thumb moving on your lip. He’s looking at you like you’re the most extraordinary thing in the world, touching you so tenderly and with such gentleness, and you never want him to stop.

Anakin leans in then, slowly, watching you with intensity while he moves his other hand to come and cup your face. He leans in until his forehead touches yours, and you sigh softly as you enjoy the closeness again. The tip of his nose nuzzles yours, his warm breath kissing your lips, less than a few millimetres away now, and you move your thumb on his cheek, stroking his skin and making his eyes fall close as he lets out a relieved sigh.

Then a gentle smile lights up his face that makes your heart swell and skip a beat. Soon his eyes open slowly before he stares deeply into your eyes.

“You are everything I desire,” he whispers, making you still your thumb on his skin as you look at him. His forehead is still pressed against yours. You take in a deep breath, feeling Anakin moving his hands on your face slowly, his fingers spreading out to touch more of you. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you or dream of you. There is no one that is as mesmerising and enchanting as you. You consume my very being.” He pauses before breathing out your name. “You’re the love of my life, I love you.”

“You… y-you’re in love with me?” You stammer, unsure if you heard him correctly. You’re blinking repeatedly as you try to make the tears disappear that are forming in your eyes.

“Yeah sweetheart,” he whispers as his smile widens, his thumb stroking on your cheek again. His fingers move to wipe the tears away as they slip down your cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you since we were thirteen,” he says as his smile turns more bashful. “Probably even longer, I am sure I was too oblivious to work it out before then.”

As you look into his eyes, all you can see is pure adoration and love written in them. For all those years, this whole time, you were so scared to tell him how you feel about him… only for him to feel the same way. You were always his, ever since you first laid eyes on him.

“I’ve been in love with you since the first time we met,” you told him, voice soft and quiet. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything for anyone else besides you, ever.”

His grin is contagious, warmer than the fire that’s crackling in the fireplace, brighter than the sun on a warm summer day and you swear that in that moment you feel as if it’s just the two of you in this universe.

You lean your face closer to his to then graze your nose against Anakin’s.

“Yeah?” He smiles, blinding and it only widens when you nod shyly. His nose then moves down to press against your cheek, lips just brushing yours.

“Yeah.” You whisper as you bite your bottom lip timidly.

Slowly he brushes his lips against yours before pulling away just slightly. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips, and you have to hold back a moan at the delicious, inviting sight. “Baby,” he breathes, sending shivers down your spine, as his gaze shifts from your lips to your eyes repeatedly. “Can I…?”

You nod immediately, not trusting your words, and then he surges towards you to press his lips against yours. You sigh into it, your eyes sliding shut as you bury your fingers in his hair. Anakin groans low in his throat as your fingernails rake against his scalp. His hands then move to wander all over your body as the kiss deepens.

You whimper as he gives your bottom lip a little nip, swiping his tongue against it afterwards to soothe the sting. You gasp, and Anakin takes the opportunity to access the inside of your mouth with his tongue. You moan, feeling lightheaded and dizzy as the kiss turns more heated.

You always knew that he’d be an amazing kisser, but this is something else. His hands grip you and crushes your body to his with fervour as he licks and sucks at your tongue. All you can do is melt into him, your arms hanging loosely around his shoulders. You let out more moans and sighs into his lips as he continues to massage the inside of your mouth with his tongue just right.

Anakin devours you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shudders with want, from the need for him. He moves his lips with yours and swirls his tongue with your own. His hand then moves to tangle in your hair as he presses his body to yours completely.

Your hands move to bury in his hair as well. This time, when you pull his hair it is a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whimper as he finally pulls away, leaving your body flush and panting and craving so much more.

“Oh fuck, baby, that’s perfect.” His voice rumbles low in his throat as his adam’s apple bobs, completely exposed. You have to fight the urge to lean down and nip at it, even more heat washes through you at his words.

“I love you Ani,” you whisper breathlessly, as he leans his head back up and kisses you hard on the mouth, his blunt nails digging into your plush hips. “I love you so much.”

“Please, will you say it again baby? I need to hear you say it once more.” He pleads as his eyes flutter.

“I love you.” You whimper as his mouth connects with yours again.

He groans into you, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, and you open your mouth for him when you feel his tongue tracing your lower lip and licking into your mouth. His hand raises to cup your cheek, the other wrapping tighter around you as he keeps your body pressed to his.

His mouth then moves from your lips to your cheeks as he whispers his love for you again and again. He starts to trail long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimper pitifully as he suckles lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.

As he continues to move lower down your skin, Anakin’s tongue pokes out every now and then to lavish your skin with it. Lapping, kissing and sucking at your body. His kisses become longer, hotter and more fervent as he continues on. You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you pull him closer against you.

Anakin groans and bites down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cry out, impulsively grinding your hips against his in a desperate search for some much-needed friction against your aching clit.

You gasp, your eyes flying open at the hard bulge you feel against your pussy. You whine as your core starts clenching around nothing, begging for attention, his attention.

Instinctively you start moving your hips against his making him groan against your skin. The feel of his desire pressed against your heated skin is heavenly, and you roll your hips up into his to feel some friction against your core.

“Need you so bad baby,” he groans against your skin. You shudder against him and feel the sensation pool down low between your thighs. You’re certain that your underwear is ruined by now.

A high pitched whimper slips past your lips as he starts to move along with you, grinding against your clothed cunt.

Anakin pulls away to look at you. His blue eyes stare into yours as his hands move underneath your night dress, his fingers trailing up your thigh. You feel yourself grow nervous at his touch. Despite how much you want it, anxiety bubbles up inside the pit of your stomach.

“Wait,” you whisper and his movements halt immediately.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks worriedly.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter before exhaling deeply. “You are my best friend, so you know everything about me right?”

“Yes, of course.” He frowns.

You take a shuddering breath, mentally preparing yourself for what you are about to say. “Then that also means that I should tell you that I’ve never been intimate with anyone in my life yet.”

You nibble at your bottom lip as his eyes widen in realisation. He knows what you’re insinuating. That you’re a virgin.

You want Anakin so bad, you’ve been dreaming about this for so long but you’d be lying if this doesn’t make you nervous.

It wasn’t like you haven’t dated before. You have been on plenty of dates all your life, too many actually, you’ve even been in a short relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like Anakin did. You’ve tried to get over your feelings for him for a long while but it’s impossible. And the thought of being intimate with anyone else but your best friend just never felt right.

A part of you always hoped that maybe, one day he’d feel the same.

“Oh sweet girl,” he says softly as he looks at you with so much tenderness it has you melting against him all over again. “Please don’t you worry about that,” he smiles warmly as he leans down to nudge his nose against yours. “I will take good care of you.”

“I need and want you so bad, but I’m scared that I might let you down.” You whisper as you continue to nibble anxiously at your bottom lip. “That I’ll disappoint you…”

“Baby,” Anakin speaks softly before he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your temple while he holds you close. Your body relaxes instantly at his affectionate touch. “I am certain you could never disappoint me with this. It doesn’t matter whether you’re experienced or not, you’ll always be the best lover I could ever ask. Because you’re perfect for me.”

He looks at you with so much adoration and love it has you melting against him all over again. “I trust you Ani,” you nod timidly and soon he leans down to envelop your lips in a slow but deep kiss.

Warmth spreads all over your body as his hands start to wander. You whimper against his mouth as his hands slowly caress both of your thighs. Your head is clouded with so much lust, you feel so much love for him. Your brain instantly turns into mush as you continue to kiss each other passionately.

Slowly his hands reach under your night dress moving towards your lower back and trace the soft skin there. You then start to move your hips desperately against his as you moan into his mouth, hoping that Anakin will get the hint soon enough.

The kiss then increases with an intensity that has you gasping for breath. You roll your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moan into his mouth as you rub against him. The front of his pyjama pants strains as he grinds along with you again.

Suddenly everything becomes overwhelming, the temperature in the room is rising quickly, the feel of his touch as it wanders all over your skin and the fact that you’re going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend has you feeling hot all over.

He groans as you continue to grind up against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whine as he then rolls you both over, hovering over you as he pins your arms gently against the mattress.

You’re so desperate to feel him again.

“So impatient,” he chuckles with a devious smile after he pulls back momentarily to inhale some air. “Such a needy kitten, begging for my touch.”

“Please,” you whine desperately as you wiggle underneath him.

Moments later his lips press against yours again. The kiss gets more heated the more you kiss each other. His hands move down your body again while yours wander to the back of his head and you pull at some strands softly making him moan into your mouth. One of his hands trails slowly up your stomach as the other holds onto your hip. You’re feeling weak at his touch and warmth pools between your thighs as you continue to kiss each other while your hands wander all over each other.

His fingers brush delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wander all over your skin.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers against your mouth. Moments later he pulls his hands away only for his hands to settle on the hem of your hoodie. “Can I take this off, baby?”

You bite your lip and then nod frantically, unable to use your voice at that moment. He smiles as his hands brush under your hoodie for a second before he hooks his fingers in the fabric and draws it upwards.

You raise your arms to help him remove it. As Anakin is pulling away your first garment, the night gown automatically moves along with it. Soon his hands move down to the fabric underneath, pulling it up along with the hoodie. You feel heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roam all over you, taking in every little detail.

The way Anakin is looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration, has you feeling so alive.

You don’t know what to do with your hands. They’re trembling so much, and your core is, too, as he discards both of the pieces of clothing to the side and begins mouthing along your collarbone with affection.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as his mouth travels all over your exposed skin.

Your bare chests are touching, your skin on fire. You look at him with wide eyes, as he continues to kiss your skin, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

His large hands move to the curve of your waist where it meets your hips and clutches it, holding you tight as he litters damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimper as he traces the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.

He leans down, pressing the softest kiss to the side of your breast before he looks up. “Are you okay?” His forearms rests on either side of your body, and when you nod, he brings a single hand up to stroke your left cheek. “If we’re gonna go any further, I need you to talk to me, angel. I need verbal communication. Think you can do that?”

You stare at him for a moment before you nod again. He gives you a knowing look and warmth rises up in your body again. “Sorry,” you whisper. “Y-yes, Ani. Yes, I think I can do that.”

“Good girl,” he praises with a gentle smile. “And if you want me to stop,” he continues, his lips returning to your fiery skin, trailing barely there kisses down the valley of your breasts. Your eyes flutter shut, hands grasping at the sheets. “You tell me right away. Okay?” He mutters in a raw tone, strained.

“Y-yes, I understand Ani.” You whimper.

“Good.”

He breathes in through his nose as he inhales your scent and you shiver when he exhales warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.”

Then, he wraps his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucks and licks with passion.

“Ani,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against something, your cunt seeking friction.

“Good?” he quips back, peering up at you as his mouth curls into a Cheshire Cat smile. You feel your skin flush with heat as you just stare down at him. Lust is written all over your face and he has no trouble reading your expression. So he resumes licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as a hand goes up to squeeze your other breast.

You take it upon yourself to bring the hand that’s squeezing your breast, guiding it down to your heat. As his fingers slip underneath the band of your underwear, down to where you need him the most, his mouth falls open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as his fingers slip between your wet lips.

He traces your pussy softly for a while before he pulls himself completely away from you. He sits up as he removes his pants, you whine as you close your eyes, desperate to feel his touch, wanting him on you again.

Once he removes all of his clothes, you feel him move back up to you. He leans down, roving his lips down to your neck, licking and sucking, as his hands cup your sensitive breasts, massaging them in his hands. Heat overwhelms you as Anakin litters soft kisses down your shoulders to your chest. Your hands find his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continues to wander all over your naked skin.

Anakin’s lips move slowly down your body, kissing every little place he can find on your skin while his hands trace along.

He then leans forward, breathing in your core and running his nose along the patch of dampness. You pull at his hair as he inhales your scent. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he hums as he looks up at you with a smile, his hands leave your skin to curl his fingers into the waistband of your panties. “You smell so good. Can’t wait to taste you.”

A shuddering breath leaves your lips as you lift your hips instinctively allowing him to take off your underwear. Once he pushes your legs wide for him, you whimper as the air hits your wet slit. He takes a moment as his eyes take over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continues to stare at your wet hole.

He licks his lips before leaning down, lips lingering on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Anakin’s lips are so close to where you need him the most yet he feels so far away.

“So pretty,” he murmurs as he guides your legs over either of his shoulders.

You’re about to beg as his lips detach from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.

You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.

He pulls away again only for his fingers to move to spread your outer lips for him, Anakin smirks as he slides a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation or the way your wet hole swallows the digit, and you moan against the pillow next to you trying to muffle yourself.

The whine that comes out of you only drives Anakin to seek out more of those heavenly sounds.

“Fuck, such tight pussy.” He moans, as your cunt clenches repeatedly around his digit. “Need to prepare you for my cock.”

Your whines become louder as you feel the pleasure overwhelm you. His fingers are so much bigger than yours, one of his fingers is more pleasurable than any of your fingers.

You whine as your core continues clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumps his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you begin moving your hips, grinding against his hand, as he moans. He looks at you intensely as he continues to fuck you with his finger. His eyes can’t seem to stay in one place as he admires how beautiful you are underneath him.

You are panting heavily, barely able to think straight as he slowly slips two more fingers inside you. Anakin moves them slowly at first as your tight pussy tries to adjust to the addition. The stretch is overwhelming but so satisfying. Little whimpers leave your lips as he fucks you with his fingers. He moves his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

Your hands are tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands as your body moves along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him curl them and spread them.

You gasp, his tongue slipping inside your mouth, kissing you with everything that he has. "That feels good doesn't it, baby girl? You like it when I touch you like this?" Anakin groans and his thumb makes contact with your clit. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words angel," he taunts.

“Yes, please please Ani, feels… so good.” You moan loudly.

Soon his lips travel all the way down your body making you whine and whimper and beg silently for more — all while he’s still finger fucking you.

Anakin inhales your scent as soon as he leans forward, but doesn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wets his lips before his head dips between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.

“Fuck, Aniiii!” You shriek, as your hips buck off the mattress.

Squeaky, senseless noises bubble up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stutter against him and he just sighs like there’s nothing in the world he'd rather be doing than this right now, eating you out on this bed.

You’re a mess of his name, chanted and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeeze shut to the point of tears, his mouth licks up your clit, he continues to finger you while one of his other hands is holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you buck into him, trying to urge him to do more.

The way he works up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continues to build up as Anakin suckles on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightens as he starts to quicken his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, has your toes curling and clenching your thighs to squeeze around his head.

“Aah, too much!” you squeak, strangled and desperate and extremely close to the edge, “t-too too much, I-I–fuck.”

“Easy, angel,” he whispers before he places a soft kiss on one of your thighs, his fingers stilling inside you.

“Aniiii baby,” you mumble as you borrow your head in the pillow.

“It’s okay baby, I know, I’ve got you” he coos again, his smile all teasing. “It’s a lot. Will you let me continue?”

“Y-yeah, just uh wait a second” you whine.

“Anything for you.”

But after a moment, waiting feels too much. It feels like hours are passing by. You’re already tired of waiting and he is, too. Anakin leans down to dip his tongue between your folds to lick upwards to your clit.

You sigh at the same time he does, except yours is very high-pitched and his sounds so dreamy. Anakin is lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers slowly in and out of you, taking care not to be too rough this time and push you over the edge when you’re not ready for it.

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, trying to silence yourself. “Fuck, ahhh Ani, f-fuck…”

He moans against you as his lips seal around your clit and you buck your hips at the action. “Fucking- you taste good. You feel so good. You’re everything.”

“Fuck, Ani baby, oh my fucking— god,” you cry out loud. You’re sure your friends in the other rooms have heard you by now. He sucks lazily at your clit while he curls his fingers into you. Anakin eventually sucks harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You keep chanting his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.

You gasp loudly as your whole body trembles even more, the hot feeling continues to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Anakin’s hand and face. Then your body tenses as you come against his mouth. Your whole mind feels like exploding and all you can see is stars. You feel so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you are experiencing. Your body is still trembling as you feel yourself come down from your high.

“You’re doing so well for me baby,” he says proudly as his fingers slow down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, while he continues to lick your clit, still helping you ride out your orgasm.

You are a sputtering mess while he teeters you towards overstimulation.

As you come back to your senses, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. Your pussy clenches repeatedly around nothing, you feel like a hot storm and you’re sopping wet from the waist down and dripping down the poor sheets, as you whimper helplessly.

You need him so bad. Your pussy continues to pulse, begging to be filled all over again. Begging for his cock.

Your eyes are still closed as you feel your legs being spread further apart with his strong hands. A loud broken moan leaves your lips as Anakin dives between your legs again, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your needy hole before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet muscle and sucking your button into his mouth.

You practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. Your body trembles terribly. You need more. You try to grind your wetness slowly against his lips as your body continues to shake.

Strong arms are suddenly locked around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.

“Taste so good kitten, could eat this pussy all day.”

The man you love the most in this whole universe is between your legs as he keeps sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises spur him on, to move his lips back up to your clit. He then sucks the nub softly between his lips.

Eventually he leans down, slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.

You’re a mess, a whimpering needy mess. Your hips try to move against his face as you continue to moan breathlessly underneath him. Writhing below him, you feel him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that has you seeing stars, while your hips buck against his face uncontrollably. Thighs clamp around his head as you feel another orgasm nearing. Defiance and greed consumes your thoughts, your fingers once again gripping onto his brown hair rather harshly and hips pushing against his face to shove his tongue deeper into your hole.

“Ahhh Anakiiiin—” you drag out. You are so close, you just need one more little push.

You’re moving your hips against his face, fucking yourself onto his tongue as he applies pressure on your sensitive spot inside you with his tongue, you can feel his thumb circling your clit, making you see stars.

“Be a good girl and come for me,” Anakin moans against your pussy before plunging his tongue back inside. With a bit more pressure on your clit and the sound of his deep voice you come with a loud whine, your vision turning white and your ears ringing as you feel your movements against his face getting sloppier.

Your hips are stuttering until the final waves of aftershock pass. Gently, he laps at your release until the overstimulation is getting too much.

“You did so well angel, you’re so good to me. So beautiful. You taste so good and sweet.” He says, his voice deep, as he kisses the skin of your inner thigh.

You whimper at his words, gently pulling your hips away from his mouth. He grins, holding eye contact as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth.

You giggle as he licks his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. You bring your hands up lazily to cover your heated cheeks, but Anakin is having none of it. He places soft kisses all over your hands and then drags them down gently, then leans down to pepper kisses to your nose, your forehead, your cheeks, until his mouth lands on your lips with a smile, joining in on the soft laughter between each kiss.

He pulls away with a satisfied sigh, he smiles as he reaches to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.

You sigh as you melt at the feel of his touch and kiss his thumb as it comes to trace across your lips. You wrap your still shaky legs around his hips as you stare into his eyes.

“I think I’m ready.”

“Sure?” He asks softly.

“Yes,” you nod as you then snake your hand between the both of you, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek.

“We can stop at any time if it’s becoming too much for you,” he reminds you, and you know the serious look in his eyes comes from nowhere else but concern.

You pout up at him as you trace your fingers over the scar of his right eye. “I know I’m nervous but I don’t want to stop.”

“Sweetheart,” he coos. “I just want you to be comfortable and I want you to know that it’s okay if you change your mind. I wouldn’t adore you any less if we stop here tonight.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you try to fight them from rolling down your cheeks. His words truly touch you. There’s no one in this world that you adore more than him. You were certain you wanted to continue with him but after his reassurance, you want him even more. You love this man so much. He’s your everything.

You take a deep breath, swallowing back the lump in your throat and bringing your other hand up to cradle both of his cheeks. He looks you in the eyes with intensity. “I want to experience this with you,” you say softly. “I trust and love you with everything that I am.”

He looks at you with so much adoration, tenderness and like you’re a goddess. As if you’re meant to be worshipped and held with the utmost reverence. It has your cheeks heat up, but it also warms your heart, making you feel a lot less nervous.

He then leans down to enwrap your mouth with his, kissing you deeply as he cups your face. Your legs tighten around his hips, pushing him closer against your body. You can feel his hard cock against your core as it strains against the confines of his underwear, sending another hot flash of arousal through you.

Taking a leap of faith, you trail your hands from his cheeks all the way down his torso until your fingers meet his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his boxers. Then your hands move to the band, as you tug at it.

Anakin watches you as all he can do is focus on your touch, and when he feels the still of your hands, he takes it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last remaining clothing off of him. He tosses it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.

Your breath hitches, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. A spark of heat shoots down to your clenching core as you imagine how he will fit or fill you. But it is also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.

Anakin chuckles as he moves back closer to you, as his lips chase your own, as he envelops you into another sweet but deep kiss. “What is this beautiful head of yours thinking?”

“H-how?” You say quietly as you stare at him.

Anakin laughs softly and you can’t help but pout up at him as you hear his soft laughter. “I promise, it will fit.” He reassures you quickly as his hand cups your cheek gently. “Don’t you worry my sweet girl.”

He guides himself into position, his tip poking slightly at your entrance and causing another surge of heat to course through your veins. He rests his forehead against yours, looking deeply into your eyes.

You smile and bite your lip as you roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, he glides his hips along with yours as he rubs against you.

“I love you,” you whisper as you nuzzle your nose against his, reaching up to place a soft kiss to his lips.

His eyes glow in the orange light with a soft, loving warmth. “I love you too.” He presses another sweet kiss to your lips.

The two of you kiss languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.

He holds his length in his hands as he keeps rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. Anakin loves the sounds you make as he spreads his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.

The thought of him finally entering you with his cock makes you wetter and turns you even more on. Anakin swallows your whines with his lips against yours, his hips rolling with yours. He kisses you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You’re trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covers your whole body with his. You writhe against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.

“I’ll try to go slow, okay, angel?” He says before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your slit and your mind is all over the place.

“P-please, Anakin,” you stutter, your body trembling even more underneath him. “P-put it in, please?”

He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before he moves his dick teasingly around your core. You arch your back slightly and whine loudly out of frustration.

“Relax baby girl,” he whispers against your mouth.

You whimper in anticipation as his forehead touches yours. He nudges the tip of him against your hole, still slick with arousal. Your legs tremble underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Once he notches himself inside of you, a gasp elicits from the both of you.

You know it was just the tip of him, but you can’t help but feel the stretch already. Anakin slides in so slowly it’s agonising. He’s careful, like he’s afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. He’s so big.

You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whine underneath him. He pants along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stings, but his pace keeps it bearable. He guides himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you are digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.

His hips still instantly once he hears the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears begin to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings coursing through you.

“Doing so good for me baby,” he praises as he peppers your face with soft kisses. “You’re doing amazing.”

“Please,” you whimper as your eyes flutter close.

He continues to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you’re able to relax more into it. You whimper, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls flutter around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.

“Such a good girl,” he grunts softly. You think there isn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you feel your heat get even more wet.

Once he bottoms out, a soft gasp slips past your lips as his tip kisses your cervix. The tears that lingered at your eyes are now falling freely down your cheeks. You feel so full and relieved as he stills against you. Your walls involuntarily flutter around him, getting used to his size. Anakin’s soft lips are on your forehead, leaving soft kisses and whispering sweet nothings and words of encouragement.

You take your time, your eyes slowly opening once you’re ready. As you open your eyes unhurriedly, Anakin is already staring down at you with an intense concern. “I’m fine,” you promise with a pant, nodding as you look at him. “It’s just, a lot.”

As you feel yourself adjust to his size, you realise how full you feel. So full, as if he is made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars.

You need more.

He groans as you clench around him, and you note the twitch of restraint in his focused brow. “Ani, you can move,” you whisper, bringing a shaky hand up to push the curls that fell before his eyes and off his forehead.

He looks at you with a tender look, before he moans after you squeeze around his girth and tilt your hips to invite him to move. He wets his lips before he moves slow and deep. His thrusts start as gentle rocks of his hips, never pulling too far in or out, just enough to feel every movement. The sting hurts for a moment, but it easily morphs into a more pleasurable feeling as he continues to move against you.

Slowly, you are getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulls out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he grinds his cock into you. The angle is so good, gradually he picks up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucks into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin is being heard in the room.

Every time he thrusts into you, his pelvic bone drags along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.

“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispers against your skin as he moves to nuzzle his face against your neck.

Soft grunts fall from Anakin’s lips whenever he hits a specific deep spot inside you. You whimper as his lips move back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. He snakes one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubs two fingers over the sensitive nub.

At a certain point you feel him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circle your clit, it has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes roll to the back of your head from the pleasure he is providing you. The whimpers that fall off your lips become higher pitched as he picks up his pace.

“Feeling good baby?” He moans, as his lips curl into a soft smile while he can’t help but admire the way your face contorts in pure pleasure. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continues to come out of his mouth as he fucks you. “This pussy was made for me.”

His mouth covers your own instead as he swallows all your little noises of pleasure, you can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.

Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increase as ecstasy and warmth overwhelm your senses.

His hands can’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimper at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Anakin’s hips. He can feel it too, in the way you clench and squeeze at his length, and he starts to drive even harder into your heat as he tilts his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hopes will blow your mind.

Your arms tremble as they wrap around him, your nails digging in his back making him groan on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, is tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”

“Please…” you moan as you think about him filling you up. “Please Ani, baby, fill this pussy up.”

He grunts as he buries his face into your neck as he fucks into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.

“You want to cum sweetheart?”

You nod frantically at his words while your eyes flutter close as you bite your lip harshly. You're bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moves back to your clit as another comes to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubs your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.

“Cum for me, kitten.” Anakin demands softly.

And when he finally nudges against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you're exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, crying out his name. Blood is rushing so wildly in your ears that you can't possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashes his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolls back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure under him.

Anakin groans in your ear as your walls spasm and pulse around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Fuck,“ he moans, pushing himself up as he thrusts deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”

You’re still in a daze but you’re still able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezes around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”

He moves his hips sloppily before he groans loudly, as he finally cums inside you. The warmth of his seed fills you up and spreads within your walls. You whimper at the feel of his cum dripping out of you once he pulls out.

It's a blurry haze when you come back to your senses, your whole body is aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it is energised, and you don't bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.

Once both of you caught your breaths, Anakin leans his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

“That was…” He breathes, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.

“Oh yeah, that was amazing.” Your voice comes out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you clear your throat gently before you smile up at him.

Your skin is sweaty and sticky but he doesn't seem to care, pulling you closer and running his hands over any piece of skin he can find, still in awe at how amazing you looked coming apart beneath him— all because of him.

You’re overwhelmed with so much love and adoration as you look at him. Both of your hands come up to cup his cheeks before you pull him down again for another sweet and slow kiss.

Suddenly his body shakes above yours as he chuckles. You pull away from his lips as you look at him with a confused grin. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m thankful everyone made sure that we would be sharing a room together.” He says before laughing as you look at him with a surprised expression on your face.

“Oh my god. You think they set us up?” Your eyes widen and you gasp as realisation hits you.

“I don’t just think so, I’m very certain of this.” He continues between chuckles. “In fact, I’m pretty sure some of them even bet on us.”

“They did not!” You gasp dramatically before you giggle along with him.

“They sure did,” he smirks as you continue to laugh softly underneath him. He leans down to press a soft kiss against your forehead, “we have to clean you up.” Anakin mumbles as his fingers trace down your sides causing you to shiver and close your eyes.

“Later, I’m tired,” you murmur back whiningly.

With a low laugh he picks you up, making you yelp in surprise. “Up you go.” You’re about to complain that you can walk perfectly to the bathroom on your own, when you feel sore and your legs feel numb.

He reaches the bathroom, he then sits you down on the edge of the bathtub all while running the water and surprising you by adding in your favourite bath bomb, to make a bubble bath. You can’t believe he brought your fave bath bomb along on this trip. It brings a smile to your face. Once the bath is warm and semi filled, he picks you up again and helps you in the tub and you close your eyes, feeling your muscles relax quickly, basking in the warmth and comfort of the bath.

“Ani?” You question, hoping that he’s still in the room.

“Yes, my princess?” He says softly.

Your eyes flutter open and you see him sitting next to the end of the tub. “Can you please, join me?” You whisper timidly.

“Of course, angel.” Anakin smiles before he stands up.

You look up at him as you scoot towards the middle of the tub, leaving him some space to slip behind you. Anakin slips one foot in as you scoot further away to allow him to comfortably move himself into the bath.

His arms wrap around your middle as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. You sigh happily as you lean your body against his.

“I love you,” he whispers against your ear as he presses soft kisses down your neck. You smile as you melt in his embrace.

“I love you too.”

For a while, you stay like this, enjoying each other’s warmth and company.

Until,

“You think they heard us?”

“Ani!” You hit his arm playfully. “I was enjoying the calm and our moment together.”

He chuckles as he shrugs against you. “I am serious.”

“Yeah sure,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Was that sarcasm? Because I can be serious.” He laughs as he pinches your side teasingly. “Very serious.”

You squeak at the pinch, soon morphing into giggles as he tickles you. “No!” you gasp as you try to wriggle out of his grasp.

You continue to giggle as you feel his fingers trace against your sides, knowing that is where you’re ticklish.

“No! Stop! This isn’t fair,” you say as you try to gasp for air while still laughing, “you know that I’m sensitive here.”

“You know what’s not fair? Making fun of your boyfriend who is trying to be very serious.”

You gasp dramatically, “that’s not true and you know it!”

“I’ll stop when you promise to stop laughing.” Anakin says, as he grabs your waist.

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop. But I can’t stop laughing when you keep touching me like this.” You close your eyes and giggle as he’s still tracing the sides of your body.

Anakin hums as he stops his movements, his arms wrapping around your waist instead, pulling you flush against him again.

You sigh relieved when you’re not feeling ticklish anymore.

He brings one of his hands up to your cheeks, moving your face right up to level with his lips a mere breath away. “Even when you’re laughing at me, you’re still the sexiest and most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

His lips then envelop yours in a soft and gentle kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

Shuffling closer into him in the water, you press your naked body against his. Easily, your legs tangle together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you.

“I love you too.”

And that’s how the rest of the night goes, tender kisses and soft touches shared between you two as you enjoy each other's company. Feeling so loved and at home as you melt in his embrace.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #modern!anakin #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x y/n #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #star wars x you #anakin skywalker fluff #star wars x y/n #star wars #my writing

[total-dxmure]

✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER THREE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff. (A/N: here we are, the meat and potatoes. the fic is really kicking off. . . and they're already flirting?! ellie is so touch and affection starved that she nearly jumps out of her own skin every time you even look at her.)

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

In that halfway space between waking and sleep it was hard to discern what was real and what wasn’t. Your bed felt warm, sheets still tangled around your arms and legs. The weight of your blanket on your chest could easily be confused with another’s body, and so you felt yourself smile. Warm, happy, safe- 

Abby was behind you, her limbs expertly twisted around yours like she’d done it a thousand times before. . . and she had. 

Slowly you opened your eyes, staring blankly ahead of you into your pitch black bathroom. You recognized the fresh scent of your shampoo, and felt the way your hair still clung to your hot cheeks- wet from your shower the night before. It was like you were suspended in a memory, everything all soft and fuzzy around you. The dots weren’t perfectly connecting, and still you were happy. For a second you just laid there, unable to look down at the hand you could feel so vividly at your waist. Would you see Abby’s knuckles when you looked down? Would you see the rubber promise ring she had insisted on wearing? Everything always had to be even and fair with her. 

This morning felt familiar. Like you’d lived it before. Your breath left you in a rush when the bed creaked behind you. 

“Abby,” God, she was back. She was back and she was right behind you. “Baby?” 

There was a soft groan and then the arm tightened, bringing you into a warm chest. Her bicep squeezed your arm tightly against her shoulder, and all at once you were tucked in so tight. Confusion tugged at your features, and you mulled over exactly why you were clinging to her arm so tightly. 

“What’s wrong?” She whispered against your hair, her voice still thick with sleep. Still, her fingers stroked at your bare stomach. 

“I had a nightmare,” You mumbled, trying to recall exactly what had plagued you just seconds ago. You can’t remember now that you’re safe here. . . safe with Abby again. “You were gone and I was all alone.” 

Those moments came back to you in flashes. The ache, the constant pain of losing her, the “learning to live without her” that crushed you entirely. You turned around in her grasp, nuzzling your nose into the crook of her neck. You took deep inhales, trying to still your rising panic. You could feel the steady beating of her heart against your cheek, the warmth of her bare breasts against your collar bones. 

“I was gone?” She raised a hand, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, a few golden strands falling onto her forehead as she moved her head against the pillow beneath her. “You can tell me about it if you want.” She offered supportively, petting your back in slow circles. 

You don’t know why. . .  but you missed those circles. It felt like you’d been without them for weeks. Months. 

“I-I got a phone call. . . and they told me that you’d died,” Your bottom lip quivered, your eyes filling with tears. You couldn’t help but laugh pathetically at your unnecessary hysterics. Abby was right here. Everything was okay. “It felt like the longest nightmare I’ve ever had. It was horrible.” 

“You did so good though.” She whispered, her hands still stroking. 

Your muscles tensed, and slowly you moved your hand up her side, fingers brushing against her skin. You pressed a soft kiss against the underside of her breast, a tear breaking free past your lower lashes. This moment suddenly felt fleeting. 

“I did?” You questioned, pulling away to look at her. 

She was so beautiful. Like an angel had fallen from heaven and landed right in your bed. The sun was just beginning to rise, setting the line of trees just outside of your window ablaze. She was diaphanous and golden laying there beneath you. You were so lucky. You could barely breathe when she looked up at you like that, her eyes so thick with pride and love. 

“You did, baby girl. You stayed so strong.” She cracked a small smile, but it looked pained. Like she was also realizing that the two of you couldn’t exist here forever. “I need you to keep it up though, alright?” You couldn’t feel her hand on your back anymore, nor the softness of the sheets. 

“Please,” You sobbed out, reaching out to cup her cheek. She didn’t feel like anything. Like your hand was molded around a pocket of open space. Nothingness. She was about the size of the palm of your hand now, her urn sitting on the mantle in your living room. “Please don’t leave me again.” 

Her blue eyes stared up at you, proud and unwavering in their convictions, as they always were. . . always had been. “I’m never far. Pinky.” Promise. 

And then you were in your bed again, the alarm on your phone blaring. 

“Abby?” You mumbled, and you didn’t have to turn over to realize you were alone. 

Ellie was good at putting pressure on herself. It had always been a form of motivation, as cruel as it seemed. She couldn’t let today be awful. No episodes or meltdowns and no long bouts of silence. You were pretty and it really seemed like you could use a friend. 

Ellie could use a friend too. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shown interest in a girl. She’d always been career driven with a one track mind. She was good at overworking herself and running herself dry. She hoped that you’d be able to use that to your benefit today. Ellie wanted to lose herself in something. . . in someone. She wanted to be useful for the first time in what felt like a long, long while.

So she woke up at the butt crack of dawn and took a shower. She kept her eyes shut tight as she washed herself and didn’t even bother to towel dry her hair before she was pulling on an outfit. Thick droplets of water stained the shoulders of her jean button up as she tied up the laces on her boots. She focused on one shoe at a time, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of you. Every once and a while her brain would wander, hellbent on self destruction, but with a small groan she’d remember the sadness in your eyes. 

She’d remember who she was before the accident. 

She moved down the stairs as quietly as she could, praying that Joel’s dog wouldn’t start barking once he realized that his new best friend was leaving the house. The keys to her old car were on the rack beside the front door, right next to Joel’s flashy new pair. He’d told Ellie over dinner that he’d been maintaining the beat up old Jeep the best that he could, meaning she at least had a little bit of freedom while she was back home. 

She locked the door behind her, the cool morning breeze stinging against her wet ears as she gracelessly stumbled down the stairs, juggling the bulky set of keys in her hand. A huge metal spaceship that Joel had stuffed into her Christmas stocking senior year, a neon green carabiner she’d bought at one of the gas stations closest to her school, and a few other childish charms that she couldn’t place any meaning behind swung from the nearly ancient keychain. Her sense of self expression and style back in those days was tacky to say the least, but she appreciated child-Ellie nonetheless. 

“You poor child.” She teased under her breath, climbing into the driver's seat and shoving the key into the ignition. She sucked in a breath and held it before cranking it up. 

To her surprise, the clunker started right up, though the engine shook the steering wheel a little when she put the thing in reverse down the driveway. She hadn’t driven a car since that night at the gas station. It felt a little weird to be behind the wheel, but even stranger to be back here. Jackson was a beautiful place. . . but it didn’t feel the same way that it had before. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her age or the changes that were happening inside of her. The streets still looked the same, aside from some very minor changes to neighbor's houses. She barely paid any attention to her surroundings when Joel had driven her through town yesterday, and she was a bit scared to see the differences. She didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts or do any soul searching, so she reached out for the radio, pressing play on whatever CD had been shoved into it last. 

Depeche mode began to blast over the speakers, and she let out a small sigh of relief. At least her music taste wasn’t horrible in high school. 

But it was no wonder she didn’t have a girlfriend. Ellie wouldn’t have dated little Ellie either, that was for sure. 

She felt a bit crazy to be driving in the opposite direction of town. Back when she lived here, town was the only place she was headed when she was allowed out of the house. It was no wonder why the two of you had never really crossed paths. She used to complain about how far off in the “middle of nowhere” Joel lived, but your farm had his ranch beat by fifteen minutes. The houses got fewer and farther in between, and despite how much Ellie truly did enjoy the city, she couldn’t deny how beautiful the countryside was. The sprawling fields, grazing animals, and splattering of wild flowers had her rolling down the windows of her car, ignoring the chill so that she could get a better look of her surroundings. 

Even the air quality was better in Jackson.

She’d been down this road a few times in her life, having been in the backseat of Joel’s car every single time. She recognized your home from her memories, but your last name didn’t mean much to her back then. She slowed her car down to a crawl, staring at the large sign that sported your family name proudly. 

Ellie would be proud of the farm too if it were hers. She bumped down the drive five minutes earlier than you had told her to show up, staring with wide eyes at your house. It was two stories with a balcony- white with green shutters. The wrap around porch was screened in, protecting you and any guests you might have over from bugs that thrive in the summertime heat. 

Your stretch of land belonged on a painting, and for a second she worried if maybe she wasn’t the right friend for you. This house was too nice and Ellie. . . Ellie wasn’t very nice at all. She'd only talked to you for five minutes yesterday, but she got the feeling that you were a "good girl". You were wholesome, which wasn't how anyone in Ellie's life would choose to describe her. She slowly made her way up your front steps, and for a second she wondered if she should leave. It would probably be better if she did. Ellie could always just lie and tell Joel that she couldn’t find your house. . . he’d probably drop it after insulting her about her bad sense of direction. 

Ellie couldn’t afford to get a crush on anyone right now either. It was horrible timing, and what would be worse is if you actually ever returned those feelings. How was she supposed to explain to you that she wouldn’t ever make a good partner? She couldn’t protect you from anything, not when any loud sounds or bright lights had her falling to her knees. She was careerless, depressed to the point where she had completely lost who she was, had a drinking problem, and was quite certain that she’d combust the second you’d touch her. She was touch and attention starved, but hadn’t remembered that she was even able to desire someone until she’d seen you yesterday- 

You’d be dodging a bullet if she hightailed it right off of your property. So she turned on her heel and stared at her boots as she began walking back down your stairs. Her feet kicked up dirt as she made her way back to her jeep, hand already reaching into her pocket for her keys- 

“Did I not hear you knocking on the door?” A feminine voice called out to her. 

She sucked in a breath so hard that she let out a loud cough, eyes widening as she turned around to face the porch. You were wearing a pair of dirt stained jeans today, though your hair was fastened back with a white bow. Ellie, despite her previous need to protect you from herself, couldn’t fight off the urge to get closer. There was something different about you today. You were a bit manic, your hands already busying themselves with straightening out a few of the potted plants on your porch. You seemed a bit anxious, but you didn’t comment on it so neither did Ellie. Any boundaries you had yesterday with her were gone. You flashed her a wide smile, sauntering up the drive so that you could wrap her up in a tight hug. 

Your arms were shaking as they weaved around her neck, pulling her in close. She froze, limbs locking up in surprise as she tried to fully grasp what was going on. You were treating her like an old friend, someone you were excited to see. Ellie didn’t know why you’d be so happy to see her. . . but then again, she was happy to see you. She remembered what Joel had said last night.

Maybe you were sick and tired of being alone. 

Your bare arms were cold too- freezing as her fingers accidentally brushed the backs of them. Ellie realized that she had gotten here just in time. If anything, she cursed herself for not showing up twenty minutes earlier, if only to save you from whatever had you this shaken up. 

“I probably knocked too quietly. Should have knocked louder, huh?” She mumbled, biting the inside of her cheek as she gave you a gentle squeeze. 

She wasn’t used to holding someone like this that wasn’t Dina or Jesse. You felt nice in her arms. Your muscles weren’t hard or rigid like hers, you were all soft and rounded edges. Gentle curves and arms ready and willing to embrace her. Flushed cheeks and silk bows. You smelled wonderful too- sweet and floral, like Jasmine mixed with honey. She didn’t want to let you go, and you didn’t seem ready to end the hug either.

You were still quivering. 

“Yeah, you should have.” You agreed, giving Ellie one last squeeze before taking a few unsteady steps back.

You hadn’t been completely sure whether or not she would show up today. Waking up this early was a lot to ask of anyone, let alone someone you had just met yesterday. Still, a part of you had hoped that she would be here. On days that were this bad you found it impossible to work, no matter how busy it kept you. You often spent “mental health days”  laid out by Abby’s grave or buried six feet under pillows and blankets in what used to be your shared bed.

Ellie’s presence changed things. 

So you squared off your shoulders and cracked her a wide smile, praying that it looked genuine and not forced. 

“Let’s hop in my truck and I’ll take you on a little tour of the property before we get started.” You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the woman take a few steps closer to you.

Ellie looked like she wanted to say something but was holding herself back. You weren’t sure whether or not you would be able to handle her prying or the pity that would follow. 

Your fingers twitched at your sides, wishing so deeply that you hadn’t woken up at all this morning. Ellie was beautiful- gorgeous even. You would have been head over heels if you had met her years ago, before. . . well, before Abby happened. Still, her beauty wasn't enough to completely distract you from your grief. A part of you felt guilty for even finding her attractive as you slid into the front seat of the truck. 

Maybe that was why you’d had such a strange dream last night. Or maybe. . . maybe it wasn’t a dream at all. Maybe it really was Abby trying to tell you that it was okay to move on. That was confusing to even think about, and it made you count the months since her death on both of your hands, trying to gauge if enough time really had passed. You didn’t want to be alone anymore, but the thought of being in love with anyone seemed like an impossibility. Everything was broken. How could you ever love anyone the same way that you loved Abby? You’d just be doing that other person a disservice. 

That’s right, you were cursed. 

You could feel Ellie’s gaze on the side of your face as you made your way down the dirt road, up towards the hen houses. You blinked a few times, the apples of your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Slowly you met her gaze, lips twitching up in a small smile as she quickly looked away from you, nervous over having been caught. 

“My dad built ten large coops, so this whole fenced-in area right here is where the chickens graze.” You stopped the car and put it in park, keeping the old thing running like you usually did during your quick morning chores. Sometimes the poor truck had a hard time starting back up, and you’d probably burst into tears if your newfound friend had to walk a half mile back to the house with you. 

“Do you guys have any problems with foxes?” She asked, keeping up with your fast pace as you unlatched the front of the fence for the both of you. 

Your nose wrinkled in disgust, and you were quick to throw your arms up exasperatedly. 

“Oh god, do we! I had to get someone out here to change out the fence just six months ago because one of those little fuckers had somehow managed to dig it’s way into their area. Killed seven of my poor girls.” You remembered how angry you were when you’d pulled up to the coops that morning. Burying seven dead hens wasn’t a pleasant experience for you, but it wasn’t something that was new. Still, you hated knowing that they’d suffered in their final moments. 

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” Ellie looked around the area, finding it impossible not to notice how well kept everything was. The coops were freshly painted, the grass was gorgeous and plush- bright green under her feet. Truly, your farm was an oasis. She’d never seen anything quite like it before, and you'd barely even started the tour.

“Can I hold one?” She asked meekly, smiling up at you shyly as you turned to look at her. You didn’t exactly take her as the type of girl that would want to hold a chicken, but you were happy to oblige her. 

“One of my mamas just hatched a few chicks. Would you want to hold-” 

“Yes.” She quickly added, jogging off in the direction that you were pointing, eager to hold anything tiny and fluffy that you had to offer. 

You were shocked at the laugh that bubbled its way out of your chest. A genuine, good natured laugh that you found hard to contain as she began impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for you to catch up. 

“Didn’t take you for a chicken lover, city girl.” You teased, unlatching the door for her so that she could make her way inside. 

The hens squawked excitedly at your appearance, realizing they’d be able to eat their fill of grass, bugs, and dried corn. A few ran over, crowding at your ankles. Rows and rows of nests were lined up along the walls. In the back of the coop were a few small rectangular doors that you could open, which was what you used to harvest eggs. Your dad’s old coops didn’t have anything fancy like that, so you grew up having your hands pecked at. You used to run back home to your mother with blood bruises and angry, raised skin. 

“I love chicks.” Ellie said simply and the double meaning wasn’t lost on you. 

As if on cue one of the chickens began pecking at the woman’s ankles, earning a small hiss of surprise from her. You snorted, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t laugh at her expense. “I can’t say the feeling is mutual, apparently.” You added playfully, looking around for the yellow poof balls. 

“Old news.” She was smiling at you, and something in your chest began doing awful, uncomfortable flips. For a second you even felt a bit nauseous. 

Ellie wasn’t Abby, but there was something similar about the two of them. The short haired girl seemed capable and strong. There was a physical sort of confidence in the way that she walked that told you that she knew how to handle herself. You watched as she shoved her hands in her pockets, shoulders squared off, feet shoulder length apart- and it had your lips parting. 

Still, you remembered Joel talking about his daughter. . . saying that she was military. You couldn’t remember which branch she belonged to, but you could tell that she was well trained. You tried to imagine what Ellie would look like if she was put in a situation where she needed to protect herself, and you found a shiver running up your spine.

There was a coldness that had been in her eyes when the two of you had first met that had chilled you to the bone. You saw none of it when you looked into her eyes now, but. . . still. . . the thought terrified you. Had those capable hands ever killed anyone before? 

You felt horrible even thinking that, even going as far as to give your thigh a small slap in punishment as you bent down, knees digging into the wood shavings and hay. The chicks didn’t seem off put by your small scowl. They saw you and instantly thought “food”, which had them clumsily running in your direction. You hadn’t heard her walk up beside you, only felt the sleeve of her long sleeve shirt brush against your arm as she sat back on her haunches beside you. 

“It won’t scare them if I pick them up, will it?” She asked gently, slowly reaching a hand out so that she could brush it against their plush down feathers. They chirped contentedly, unaware of what “danger” even meant yet. You were guilty of babying your chickens, meaning none of them were scared of humans. They pecked at you when they were annoyed, but were never violent per say. 

“Not at all. They might seem a bit unhappy, but it’s only because they’re hungry.” 

You pressed your hand to your cheek as you watched the woman pick one of the chicks up, holding the tiny thing tightly against her chest so as to not drop it. There was something almost comical about seeing the woman look this gentle, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tried not to hurt the tiny thing. It was adorable. Which was terrifying for you. 

You were once again reminded of your dream. . . and you didn’t think you were ready to let Abby go. Not even when Ellie looked up at you excitedly, using her free hand to gesture towards the small creature in disbelief. Almost like she was scared that even talking would frighten it. 

“So what do we do now?” Ellie asked, putting the chick down so that she could stand back up. You followed her lead, making your way back over towards the door. 

“We open up all the doors and let them walk around for the day. I usually come back and get them back in their coops by sundown.” You let her know, leaving the door wide open as you moved coop to coop. 

Ellie helped you, cutting down the time in half. The two of you were back in the truck in record time. You showed her the fields where you planted corn in the late summer to get ready for early fall. You pointed out the small flower garden you had taken upon yourself to cultivate, and then you pulled up to the green houses. Her jaw went slack as she took in all of the buildings. 

“You do all of this yourself?” She needed to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Sure, she was no farmer, but even someone like her knew just how much work this must be for you. 

She couldn’t imagine you doing this all day, every day all by yourself. It kinda made her chest ache a bit for you. So when you nodded she took it upon herself to climb out of the truck, eager to do something to lighten the burden for you. 

As the two of you approached what appeared to be the oldest of the greenhouses, she couldn’t help but realize that she’d been with you for about an hour. . . and she felt great. Better than great, she felt normal. She had been sent out here so that she could recover, and while she didn’t quite understand what that really and truly meant, being here with you felt right. Being around the animals felt therapeutic, and while Joel might have told you a little bit about her in passing, you didn’t know enough about Ellie to pass any sort of judgment or feel any sort of pity. 

Even so, Ellie wasn’t sure she’d be against telling you about what happened. Something told her that you would be understanding. You knew what it felt like to lose people, and she was sure that you had regrets somewhere along the line. Everyone does when it comes to losing loved ones. 

She hated that you had suffered enough to understand where she was coming from, but loved that she wasn’t alone for once. 

The two of you walked in silence, and there was a heaviness in your eyes that let her know that you were thinking about something serious and sad. Ellie wondered whether your father was on your mind this morning. . . or perhaps your girlfriend. It wasn’t her place to ask, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. 

“Want to help me water them?” You finally asked, motioning towards the tables of plants. 

She nodded, but quickly turned to face you. She couldn’t count how many green houses you had on top of this one. 

“Do we water all of those plants too?” She felt stupid the second that she asked the question, but even more so when you began to giggle. 

Sounding stupid was worth it to hear the sound, so she sucked it up. 

“Those green houses are newer and have a built in sprinkler system. We just have to worry about this one, thankfully. We’d be here all afternoon if not.” You began to head in the direction of the hose so that you could turn it on, your stomach tightening with hunger. 

You knew the second you got back to the house and made breakfast that you’d be nauseous though. Bad days like this were always the same. You were hungry but you couldn’t eat. You wanted to distract yourself but nothing would work. You wanted to talk to someone but didn’t have any friends that you trusted enough to actually. . . onload on, and you were sick of your mom crying on your behalf. 

“So you’re staying with Joel now? For how long?” You decided to make small talk as you handed her the hose, walking along with her as she painstakingly paid attention to every sprout. 

She licked her lips before answering you, eyes flickering in a way that made you think that she might feel a bit nervous. 

“I was. . . sent here. It’s not like I don’t love being home, because I kinda do. It’s just not something that I exactly chose for myself.” That didn’t feel like the whole truth, but you supposed that she would tell you whenever she was ready. 

You played with the raw hem of your old t-shirt, suddenly anxious that you might have put her in a bad spot. Still, you found yourself wanting to know more about her. 

“Do you have an addiction problem?” You realized how inappropriate it was to be so blunt. Your mouth went bone dry with panic, and you were quick to grab her hand, shaking your head. “A-All I’m trying to say is that my uncle had a really bad drug problem for years. He’s been clean and sober since last Christmas and is doing great. I don’t judge, that’s all. I’m proud of you, if anything.” 

She gulped, looking down at your hand and noticing how close your body was to hers now. She fumbled to turn the hose off with one hand, trying to get her breathing under control. It was twice now that you were touching her like this, and she hated herself for wanting to wrap you back up in a hug so bad. She was also trying not to notice how plush and kissable your lips were.

You smelled great too, which made it hard for Ellie to think. 

“Yeah, I guess I have a bit of an addiction problem,” She mumbled, but shrugged her shoulders soon after, contradicting herself. “But that’s not really why I’m here.” 

Ellie would have to tell you eventually, she supposed. If the two of you were going to be as good of friends as Joel wanted, then she’d have to fess up eventually. It was better to get it out and in the open now rather than later. Plus. . . if she had some sort of a breakdown then maybe you’d be more understanding if you knew why it was happening. 

“My therapist tells me that I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was in the Marines and I had a really bad accident. So. . . it was hard for me to live alone.” Ellie stared down at a long-dead leaf on the ground and bent down to pick it up, gently playing with it’s crinkled edges. 

“Did you have panic attacks? I have those sometimes too.” You wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone, as stupid as it might sound. 

You wanted to relate to her without telling her that your girlfriend had also been a Marine. She was being vulnerable with you, and the last thing you wanted to do was make this moment about you by bringing up your deceased girlfriend.

“Yeah. . . Yeah, I have those a lot. Sometimes I lose track of time- disassociate. It’s scary for others to deal with, so my friends thought that it would be best if I were with Joel. There’s less triggers here than back in Chicago.” You could tell that she was still uncomfortable with the subject matter, but she was powering through. 

Ellie appreciated that there wasn’t a hint of judgment in your tone. You genuinely seemed curious. . . and talking about herself like this felt good. Validating, even. 

“What triggers you? I just want to make sure that I don’t overstep or accidentally do anything wrong-” 

“No, no. You’re fine. It’s more so loud noises and bright lights.” 

“So no gunshots?” 

“Guns aren’t too bad. . . it’s more so car crashes. Explosions, you know?” 

Your mouth went dry. You did know. It’s how Abby died, afterall. You hated that Ellie had gone through something similar. Your heart ached for her. 

“Is that how you got this. . . ?” You began to brush your fingers against the scar over her eye. You froze as she flinched, guilt bottoming out your stomach as you quickly yanked your hand away.

She reached out to take your elbow into her calloused hand before you could drop your palm back down at your side, and pressed your fingers against the skin herself. Her skin was still soft, but raised and jagged. You’d never felt a scar this deep before. Still, it was warm under your touch. Alive. 

The moment felt oddly intimate, and you kept your fingers there for a few seconds too long before dropping your hand back at your side. Ellie felt like she was going to explode. No one had ever wanted to touch her scar, let alone been allowed to. 

“Yeah, It is.” She cleared her throat, grabbing one of her arms in her hands nervously. She was starting to realize that she didn’t mind being seen by you. “I’m legally blind in the eye now, which has been pretty hard to get used to.” 

“So you can’t see at all out of it?” You questioned, beginning to walk back over towards the repotting station. You’d noticed a few sprouts that were getting a little too big for their pots, and the last thing you wanted was crowded roots. 

She followed after you like a lost puppy, hot on your trail. “I can see shapes and colors. Movement, and everything. But if you held up your hand and asked me “how many fingers am I holding up”, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” She’d practically had to relearn how to do everything again, as dramatic as that sounded. Losing the vision of one eye affected a lot more than one might think. 

“Oh, shit.” You remarked, nose wrinkling up in sympathy. You couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been on top of dealing with the mental anguish of the accident. 

“ ‘Oh, shit’ is right.” She agreed with a small smile, leaning her hip against the table as you began laying out the necessary supplies. She watched your hands as they moved expertly around the table, eyes locked on your fingers. “I used to be beautiful.” She joked absentmindedly, alluding to the scar that now marred her features. 

“You’re still beautiful.” You said, fully concentrated on the task at hand. 

You didn’t realize the weight that your words carried, nor Ellie’s reaction to them. She felt like a giddy teenager. She couldn’t stop herself from fidgeting with the buttons on her shirt. She was smitten.

You were the first person to treat her like an actual human being since the incident. This was the most alive she’d felt in almost a year. . . and she was talking about things. Not like she might talk to her therapist, it was different than that. She was talking to someone that wanted to get to know her, not just to diagnose her, but to understand her. It felt good. Really good. Sickeningly good. 

And you thought she was beautiful. 

“Do you want to help me repot these little guys?” You asked, motioning towards the tiny pots. 

She was scared of killing your seedlings but nodded anyway, desperate for your approval. Ellie watched as you demonstrated the entire thing for her, praying to god she wouldn’t forget a step. 

The two of you stood shoulder to shoulder, shaking out roots and gently tucking the plants into their new homes. It was calming- melodic, almost. The constant motion, the gentle noises of the wilderness all around you. Ellie could even feel herself getting good at it. Not as good as you, of course. . . but she wasn’t as bad as she thought she would be. 

You watched as she rolled her sleeves up and over her forearms, taking a second to appreciate her hands. Once again, you felt guilty for being so attracted to her. Strands of auburn hair had fallen out from behind her ear and hung in her pale face as she focused on her task. Her strong hands worked methodically. Her veins, her knuckles, her forearms and biceps- Ellie wasn’t just beautiful but gorgeous. 

‘Give me a sign, Abby. If I’m not reading too far into last night's dream. . . then just give me some sort of a sign.’ You thought to yourself, eyebrows furrowing as you packed more dirt around the seedling in your hand. You felt like you were being horrifically dramatic, but what else could you do?

You felt idiotic. Delusional, even.

Beside you Ellie continued to work, completely unaware of your building turmoil. Pot after pot, she was really getting the hang of it. Pack down a layer of dirt, shake out roots, pack dirt on top- repeat.

She  reached out for another one of the black plastic pots, sliding it over in front of her. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the rattling. She’d been so close to covering up whatever was at the bottom with dirt, but the sunlight caught whatever it was just right.

It sparkled. 

Ellie pinched the object between two dirt coated fingers, her eyebrows practically raising up to her hairline as she realized that it was a ring. A valuable looking one, at that. 

“Uh. . . is this yours?” Ellie asked, showing it to you. 

You blinked a few times at the ring, scared for a moment that you were hallucinating, because things like this only happened in movies. People asking for signs from the other side only for a ghostly apparition to pop up on screen.

Still, that was your promise ring in Ellie’s hand. 

Your bottom lip quivered, eyes filling up with tears before you could even stop them. You reached out with gentle fingers, taking it into your hand graciously. 

“Thank you.” 

And you weren’t sure if you were talking to Ellie. . . or Abby.

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#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #military!ellie williams #modern!ellie williams #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us x y/n #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #tlou2 #ellie tlou #the last of us 2 #the last of us x female reader #tlou part two #invisible string theory fic #invisible string theory

[caeunot]

Can you do a friends to lovers fic for johnnie with them being super touchy as friends

i love this !! thank you for also being my first ever ask<3

johnnie guilbert x reader

you and johnnie have been friends for a few months now, you two became close quite fast since you both have similar interests and world views. you didn't have a youtube channel of your own but you loved making lil cameos in johnnies vids or even jakes since you love eating almost as much as he does.

you were hanging out with jake and johnnie with a few other of their friends like jc and scuff, you guys had been out the whole day and you were exhausted. as you made it to the couch you slumped next to johnnie and complained about how tired you were, "im sure it's fine if you lie down for a bit" he said, you nodded and lay down on johnnies lap using it as a pillow. at first he looked a bit confused but he soon relaxed and started gently playing with your hair while still talking to the others.

your friends definitely noticed how touchy you two were, but to be honest your love language was touch and it was painfully obvious, so no one over thought when you were extra affectionate towards johnnie. when the two of you were together you would often fix his hair or if a peice of his clothing was folded you would fix, sometimes the two of you would even cuddle depending on the circumstances.

you didn't intend to actually fall asleep but you did, and when you eventually did wake up you felt a soft blanket on top of you, you then looked around and realized that everyone was gone. well everyone except johnnie. he was still on the couch with one hand on your waist the other on his phone.

"hey sleepyhead you finally awake?" you sat up and rubbed your eyes, "why did u let me fall asleep that's so embarrassing.. how long has it been" you say anxiously as you can see it's become dark outside. "only 4 hours" he says with a smug face, making you roll your eyes.

you dramatically fell forward into his shoulder, "four fucking hours" you mutter through his shirt. he puts his phone down and let his hands run through the hair by your shoulders before slowly pushing you up to face him. "everyone was already tired and left soon after you fell asleep and I didn't mind at all okay? I promise it's fine" he says with a reassuring smile.

you appreciate his words but demand that you do something for him in return, as your looking into his eyes you then decided what it is, "can I remove your makeup for you? as like a thank you!" he makes a confused face (which reminded you of a puppy). "you don't have to do anything, makeup wipes take basically a minute to use there's really no need"

but your mind had already been made, plus since you were staying over for the night you had brought all your skincare and decided to give him a mini facial.

you sat down on the side of their bathtub and johnnie sat down next to you, you took out a wipe and started removing the makeup. you then held his cheek in your other hand so that his face can be more stable. when your done you let him splash his face with water and you take out your foaming cleanser. to do this you sat even closer to him, basically feeling his breath as you took your hands and gently massaged the cleanser into his face.

"i don't think you could be a professional with those nails, like your so close to poking my eyes out" he says after you finished, he noticed your facial expressions change, "but that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it" he says almost defensively.

as you finish off with moisturizer you can see he's on the verge of falling asleep, you knew you were done but a part of you didn't want this to end. "hey johnnie there's ooone more thing to do okay?" he nods and let's you lead him towards his room. "you can just sit down on your bed" you say confidently, as if there was an actual need for any of this. johnnie is that exhausted to the point where he is just mindlessly following your instructions, which made what you were going to do a whole lot easier.

when he sat down you also started yawning yourself, as if you didn't just come out of a nap but anyways. you took his hairbrush from his side tables and sat down next to him. without saying a word you started to brush his hair while gently moving it around. "are you having fun" he says, scrunching his face up slightly.

once you finished and put the brush down you decided to be a little more forward and leaned back against the end of the bed while gently moving johnnie so that he's laying on your chest. he didn't say a word until you started brushing your fingers through his hair, this time you moved it in a way where your long nails were massaging him and he accidentally let out a small whimper.

he immediately got embarrassed and sat up. "shit sorry I know you didn't mean it that way I'm just exhausted and it felt really good'". you noticed that from those words the tension between the two of you seem to change. "hey it's okay, just come sit back down". he bites his lip in slight hesitation but he then goes and sits back down in his original spot.

you massaged his head gently for a bit longer before slowly moving yourself lower to where you faced him on the pillow. "the spare room is so far away, can I just sleep here tonight?" without responding, johnnie slips his arm around your waist and tucks himself gently against your chest. "yes please".

❣

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #x reader #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert imagine

[lydiimae]

Strains and Stresses

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x !fem reader

Warnings: Light hints at sex, mentions of drinking, the ton being cruel to the reader, Anthony fighting with the reader, old concepts about class and womanhood, a very icky insult thrown at the reader by Anthony, fluffy fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.8k

A.N: Hello my sweet loves <3 I am so sorry I have not updated in a while, I just finished finals so life has been hectic. Also- I got a job FINALLY T-T and, more importantly, the class that I was going to take during the summer fell through so I will have much more time to write! BTW THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLOWERS HOLY \^-^/. You are all so kind to me. Anyway, this is a fic based on a request that you can find here and here. I decided to mix the two, as it is a semi-angsty Ant fic that ends in fluff. I hope you enjoy my darling Anons. For those who have requested a fic, I promise they are coming! I am planning on knocking another one or two out next week, but I wanted to write a Ben fic before as he is a big comfort character for me and I need some of that energy lol. P.S. I listened to the slowed version of Futile Devices while I wrote this, because it is just what I imagine falling in love and loving would feel like. Enjoy <3

You adored working for Lady Danbury, who wouldn't? She is an incredible woman, and so very strong. You admired her, for being so independent. You thought that that would be the life you lead, alone and working out your days as a maid. Then, you met him.

Met would be the wrong word, it was more of... stumbling into him after a young debutante 'accidentally' ran into you. You knew who Anthony Bridgerton was, of course. His reputation preceded him. Many of your friends and fellow maids had spoken of how harsh, how blunt, how much of a rake, the Viscount was.

For you, however, he had never been brash nor cruel, nor had he ever lived up to his reputation. For you, he was kind, gentle, and even sweet. He had placed a steadying hand on your back and met your eyes and you knew it was over.

From then on at every ball Lady Danbury held, you would always follow him to the gardens, stealing kisses in her in-home library, and sharing stolen glances from across the ballroom. After the balls, he would take you to his townhouse and you would both spend hours speaking of your lives, your dreams, your troubles. He was nothing but a gentleman.

You tried your best to ignore the strange warmth that bloomed in your chest when you were with him. In a way, you always knew that you would end up with him. You believed that your lives were intertwined, like a string wrapped around your soul that only stopped tugging when you were near him. It was comforting.

He had expressed his love to you about seven months in, on a Sunday morning in bed. The yellow hue of the morning sunrise made it feel like you were in heaven, his hands running against your sides like you were made from the finest porcelain. He said it easily as if it was the most simple thing he had ever had to do. A simple "I love you." was murmured into your ear before his lips pressed against your forehead. Just as easily came the proposal, more of a promise, right there in the same bed.

It was simple, perhaps even plain, but not to you. To you, it showed he was comfortable enough to express his feelings, and his deepest wants, just to you. It was intimate, the light cascading down upon his skin as if he were a god, bringing out every contour and mark on his body.

After the announcement of your engagement, rumors spread like wildfire. Every house in Mayfair was a spark that made the fire grow, little trails of flame splitting off along the way until the fire was all-consuming. He had warned you that the rumors would be bad, that not many would express their support for the union of a maid and a Viscount. You just did not expect it to be so suffocating.

You found solace in his embrace, as you always did, spending countless nights wrapped in the silk sheets at his townhouse, listening to his whispers of affection and praise until they eased the tears that had spilled down your cheeks.

It went on like this for the three long months leading up to the wedding. You were married in the spring, surrounded by his loved ones as yours had passed long ago. It was small enough to feel the heavy weight of the ton lifted off of your shoulders, if only for a moment.

You honeymooned in Bath, spending time in the hillsides on worn blankets for hours, allowing your skin to be tanned by the sun. When you would go back to the villa you were staying at, you would spend the night wrapped in his bare embrace, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon yours. It was the most calming, loving, and divine three months of your life.

It has been almost eight months since the honeymoon ended. Six months of putting up with the cruel words spoken by members of the ton, of sticking to his side at balls just so you could try and shake the feeling of the many glares sent your way. Six months of learning not only what it is to be a Viscountess, but what it is like to be a noblewoman.

Anthony had spent a month teaching you the proper etiquette that came with being a noblewoman, a lot of it being common sense thanks to Lady Danbury's way of ruling around her home. However, there were some things you found to be too niche to remember. One thing was that a lady could not go out on a walk by herself.

As a maid, walks alone in the gardens of Lady Danbury's estate had become a part of your daily routine. You would often spend countless hours sitting beneath a willow tree flipping pages of a new book or you would walk around the grounds, seeking solace in the fresh air to clear your mind after a particularly hard day. You never snuck out alone, except to see Anthony, and even then you did nothing untoward, which is why it was so hard for you to remember this silly rule. It was one you forgot today, too.

"Thank you, Rose." You hum to your lady's maid as she finishes your hair. She smiles and curtsies in return. "Of course, my lady. You need only ask if you need anything else." She says before she walks out of the room. You sigh, the title the servants address you with will never not feel strange. You adjust your jewels before standing up and walking to the window.

You had been told as you woke that your husband would be in his study today, claiming he must work on the financial affairs, meaning you have the day to yourself. The view from the master bedroom was a gorgeous one, the windows overlooking the entirety of the lands that Aubery Hall encompassed. You smile to yourself, deciding to take a stroll, perhaps even find a spot to enjoy your new book of sonnets Anthony's brother gifted you.

You pluck the book in question off of your bedside table before walking down the grand staircase. The house, other than the footsteps of the servants, is quiet. No one around to stop you from enjoying some time outside, alone. You grab your parasol and open the door, stepping out into the summer air before making your way around the lands of the estate.

Anthony leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his limbs after finishing the last piece of paperwork he has on his desk. He takes a large swig of bourbon before standing up and moving to the window, pulling the curtains open.

He glances out over the sprawling hills of the estates, swirling the copper liquid in his glass as he takes in the view. As his eyes roam, he spots a small figure making their way up one of the hills. At first, he thinks it a servant, probably out to collect fresh flowers for his bedroom upon his wife's request, but when he glances again he sees your parasol. The one he brought back from one of his ventures to France.

He can feel himself getting angry. He had drilled this into your head one too many times, never be anywhere alone, not in public and not on private lands. The servants whisper, and their gossip spreads even faster than the gossip of the bloodthirsty Mamas of the ton. He downs the rest of his bourbon before slamming the glass on his desk. He rounds it and grabs his velvet jacket from its place on the back of his chair, slinging it around his shoulders before stomping out of the room.

You are just about to sit down when you hear the calling of your name from towards the estate. You look over your shoulder, leaning on your closed parasol, to find your husband hurriedly making his way over to where you stand.

At first, you think that something bad might've happened, perhaps he found something in the many documents that was awry, but you know that is not the case from the way he is walking. Stomping, rather. He is angry, furious even, so you try and wrack your mind to find what you have done to make him this angry.

Before you can he is upon you, one of his large hands encircling your wrists and dragging you away from the hill. "Anthony, do not grab me like some sort of brute!" You yelp, trying to tug away from his bruising grip, which he only tightens upon your plea. "I shall grab you however I wish." He snarls, making your eyes widen. "Be quiet until we are inside."

He tugs you along until you are both inside of his study, where he slams the door and locks it. You begin to speak but he quickly interrupts. "Have you any idea of what you could have just done by being out there, Y/N?!" He shouts, making you take several steps back in surprise. "I was only going for a walk." You whisper and he scoffs. "A walk alone, you foolish woman!" He continues, his voice only getting louder.

The insult sends anger through your veins. "You shall not insult your own wife for merely going outside!" You shout back and he narrows his eyes almost dangerously. "I have told you hundreds of times that you are not permitted outside without a proper companion, Y/N! Going against that is indeed foolish as I have hammered it into your head countless times!" He shouts. "I am not foolish! This is all new for me! I-" You start but he is quick to respond.

"New? That is rich! Utterly rich, because to me it has been eleven months! Eight of which you have been here, doing your duties as my Viscountess!" He shouts louder, on the verge of screaming. You press yourself against the wall opposite to him. "Did they not teach you anything in your time as a maid?! You still act like a common whore even though we have fought about this too many times to count! I am tired of it!" He shouts.

Common whore. The title cuts straight through you like a hot knife, the burns making your eyes well up with tears. The title has been used to spite you at every ball, in every gossip letter, and in every whisper you have heard in the last year. It does not hurt coming from them any longer, but from him? From your husband? It feels like he has damaged your very being.

You stand there stunned, watching his mouth move but hearing no words. "You think I am a common whore?" You whisper and he stops, looking at you. You are pressed against the wall, your arms hugging your frame, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. His body language visibly changes from that of an angered husband to a guilty one.

"Y/N I did not mean-" He begins but you shake your head. "You most certainly did mean it, it came out of your mouth!" You sob. "I was angry! I am angry!" He shouts, more in a desperate act now, wishing he could reverse time. "So?!" You shout, your gloved hands pressing into your bare arms. "I have never once insulted you like that! Never once used what has been said about you as a weapon for merely-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head and looking away. "For merely going outside." You scoff.

He falters and visibly slumps in defeat. "It is foolish, but they will talk, Y/N. You know-" He begins quietly, but again you do not let him finish. "Yes, Anthony. They will talk, they will say the words you have just spoken to me." You say, wiping your eyes. "I forgot, and I know you have drilled every rule into my head but this is not the norm for me." You whisper

"When I was a maid, no, even when I was a little girl, I would go wherever I wished alone. I would pick up food at the market for my family, and take my brother to his job at the factory, and now I cannot even go outside alone? Upon my husband's private lands, no less?" You whisper. "So forgive me, Anthony, for forgetting rules that you and your siblings have grown up abiding by. I am trying to learn and remember them now, after living a very different life." You say, looking at your feet in an attempt to stop the tears. As if not looking at him will somehow ease the sting of his words.

He scoops you into his arms without thinking about it, pressing his forehead to yours. "Y/N, you know I did not mean it." He whispers and you frown, trying to tug away. "No, no. I might've meant it in the moment, and I know I cannot take it back." He amends, his hold on you tightening. Still, you refuse to meet his eyes. "Darling, please look at me. I swear I shall never say anything as cruel as what I did ever again." He whispers, his fingers curling around your chin so he can bring your gaze back to him.

When your eyes meet his he offers a sad smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "It was cruel. No, no. Cruel is too kind of a word, it was vile, for me to utter such a word when speaking of my own wife." He whispers, his hand coming down to your cheek. "I swear to you that I mean it when I say I am sorry, you shall never know how sorry I am for saying something so disgusting to you."

He continues, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have now begun to flow again. "You are the most important thing to me. I have done a terrible job of showing you that today. I shall spend every day trying to ease the pain of my foolish words." He vows, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know this is hard for you, the rules of society are so... foolishly strict for women and even I cannot imagine how much stress they are adding upon everything else" He murmurs, and you tug at his sleeve, willing him into an embrace.

You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and allow yourself to cry. "Shhh, Y/N. You are perfect, no matter your status." He whispers in your ear, running one of his hands up and down your back as the other rests on your hip. "I am not a good Viscountess, Anthony." You whisper and his grip on you tightens. "Hush. You are the perfect Viscountess, Y/N. The perfect Bridgerton." He promises.

"You have been learning so quick, one slip-up of an utterly foolish rule does not discount the many months where you have been perfect." He whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "Neither do the words of your brutish husband." He teases quietly and your lips turn up a bit. "The gossiping Mamas will find another topic in time, my love. They are merely jealous that their daughters are still stuck without a husband while you are here." He murmurs and you nod.

He pulls back and cups your cheeks, watching your eyes flutter shut. "Better?" He whispers, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. You nod and he sighs in relief, bringing you closer to his chest. "I will never be able to express how sorry I am for saying that to you." He whispers. You smile, leaning into his touch and nodding.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and wipes the remainder of your tears away before pulling back a bit. "We shall have a picnic." He whispers and you open your eyes, laughing. "We do not have to" You giggle and he grins, shaking his head. "Nonsense, we must. I have been cooped up inside all day and I wish to spend time with you, in the sunshine." He hums, pressing his lips to your nose.

An hour later you are both lying down on a lacy blanket, a picnic basket full of sweet treats. Two glasses of wine stand abandoned on the grass, being forgotten in a mess of kisses. Your head is resting on his chest, your hands clasped together over one of his legs. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your brow. Your eyes are shut but you smile. "And I love you." You whisper back, falling asleep while bathed in sunlight.

How divine it feels to be loved by Anthony Bridgerton.

#bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #fluff #cutie pie anthony #bridgerton angst #light angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #angst with fluff #anthony bridgerton angst #meanie anthony #imagine #angst imagine #fluff imagine

[ghostbeam]

casual | dabi/touya todoroki

“My mom wants to meet you.”

It’s a sentence uttered as Touya pulls the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier (while he was pushing you toward your bed and sucking your tongue into his mouth) over his head. It comes as a shock, lying in your bed completely bare, still struggling to catch your breath. It shouldn’t make you feel excited in the way that it does, not when Touya has been more than clear about the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Nothing serious. No commitment.

Casual.

notes: hiiiii so this is just something I’ve been working on for a bittttt it’s inspired by causal by Chappell roan it’s nothing special but I just couldn’t get the idea out of my head so yeahhhh sorry for the severe lack of smut in a friends with benefits fic btw ahsjsjsjs thanks for reading hope u enjoy!!<3

warnings: 18+, minors dni, f!reader, explicit content, no quirk au, oral f!recieving, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, the todorokis are healing, dabi is called Touya throughout literally the entire thing

words: 4.1k

“My mom wants to meet you.”

It’s a sentence uttered as Touya pulls the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier (while he was pushing you toward your bed and sucking your tongue into his mouth) over his head. It comes as a shock, lying in your bed completely bare, still struggling to catch your breath. It shouldn’t make you feel excited in the way that it does, not when Touya has been more than clear about the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Nothing serious. No commitment.

Casual. 

“What?” You aren’t sure how you should respond, or what the right answer is. He shrugs, buttoning his jeans.

“You don’t have to. Just promised her I’d ask.” He says, turning around to dig through your dresser. He pulls out one of the shirts he’s left there and a pair of underwear for you, tossing the items your way. You change, covering yourself up before moving to sit in the middle of the bed, legs tucked underneath you. 

“You’ve been talking to her about me?” You question. You know it’s not what he wants to hear. 

“I’ve mentioned you.” He tells you. He’s still standing, staring down at you. Your question should have been teasing, but you were sincere. You’ve met his siblings before. You know you’re not a secret to his family, but the mention of his mom feels entirely too serious. It makes you feel hopeful. You don’t want to feel hopeful.

“Oh, yeah?” You grin, your last ditch effort at turning this back on him, to show him that you can handle casual, that you like casual. He rolls his eyes.

“It’s not a big deal.” He shrugs. “She’s met all my friends.”

“Friends like me?” You ask him. You aren’t even sure what you mean by it. Touya was your friend long before the two of you had sex. That doesn’t really make you different from the others in any real way. 

Touya is your friend. Sometimes, you wish he wasn’t.

“Friends like you…” He trails off. His eyes flicker from yours like he’s thinking about it. “No, I guess she hasn’t.”

You hum, nodding your head. You don’t want to read into what he could possibly mean by that. But, truthfully, Touya doesn’t have any friends like you.

“Whatever. I tell my mom about you. You write about me in your little diary.” He speaks, leaning down so he’s at eye level with you. He kisses you once, long and hard before pulling away. “We’ll call it even.”

He stands up straight, grabbing his keys from the top of your dresser and picking his jacket up from the floor on his way out of your bedroom. He turns back to wink at you once before disappearing through your doorway.

“It’s not a diary!” You call, but he only chuckles in response. 

…

wear that one dress read 7:42am

the blue one with the flowers read 7:42am

does ur mom like blue? sent 7:43am

?? read 7:44am

no i like blue read 7:44am

and i like you in blue read 7:45am

ok maybe sent 7:45am

…

You do not wear the dress. 

Touya chuckles when he sees you, like he knew you wouldn’t and opens the passenger side door for you. Your sweater is blue, though. 

Rei lives near the shore in a house that’s all her own. Touya tells you that he and his siblings visit as much as possible, that his sister thinks she might get lonely out on her own, but he knows she enjoys the solitude. There’s a freedom to it, the choice. Touya can understand that. 

The road is long, and once the two of you get out of the city, there’s not much to look at. You watch the weather change out the window, blue skies above slowly shift into damp overcast and Touya rests his hand on your thigh. 

He’s done it more times than you can count. It’s not unusual for Touya to touch you. He’s clingy like that. But in the car, driving two hours out of the city to meet his mother, it feels different. It is different. You want to believe that. 

She stands at the front door as the two of you pull in. Her presence is a surprise to you when you know Touya hadn’t used his phone once the entire car ride. She looks small, delicate, almost, with a strength that settles in her shoulders, her chin tilted up slightly. You see now, how much of her is in him. 

“She does this every time,” Touya speaks. “I have no clue how she knows.”

“Mother’s intuition.” You shrug. 

“It’s creepy.” 

“I think it’s cool.” You say. He flicks your forehead. 

“You would.” He squeezes your thigh once before getting out of the car. He jogs to your side and lets you out. You feel his hand brush against yours as he leads you up to the house, but he never intertwines your fingers like you wish he would. 

Rei introduces herself warmly and embraces you in a tight hug. Touya has to bend down a bit to allow her to hold him around his shoulders. She ushers the two of you inside and runs a hand through Touya’s hair, murmurs something about a haircut, but he shakes her hand off of his head and insists that he keeps it this way because you like it. You’ve never told him you liked his hair before. But it’s enough to get Rei off of his back about it because she sends you a knowing smile as you follow her into the living room. 

The visit is a standard one as far as meeting the parents goes. Touya’s favorite food has been prepared and the three of you eat as Rei asks you questions. She’s understanding when the topic of your future comes up and you aren’t sure how to answer. She’s engaged when you tell her about your hobbies. At some point, you forget you’re here with Touya until you’re reminded of his presence when you turn your head in his direction and notice an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face. It confuses you, and it makes your stomach flip. You can’t ignore the feeling of his eyes on you for the rest of the visit. 

When Rei pulls out a photo album, Touya stands up and says he’s going outside to smoke. You know part of it is because of embarrassment, old photos of such a young innocent thing, him in matching clothes with Natsuo, photos of all his bad haircuts. You also know that part of it is that he’d rather not think about that time in his life, even though his father is cut out of all the photos Rei shows you.

Rei speaks after a while, flipping through the pages of the album, “you’re good for him.”

You don’t look at her, eyeing one of Touya’s school photos from long ago. 

“What did he say I was…to him?” You question. 

“A friend.” She speaks, “But I think it’s obvious that it’s more than that.”

“Not really. I am his friend. I mean, I’m not a girlfriend or anything like that.” You try to explain. “I can’t really be good for him.”

“I think you can. I think you are.” She continues to flip through the photo album, and you continue to check the back door in case Touya walks in on your conversation. 

“It means a lot that you say that. I really care about him.” You admit it to her even though she already knows because it feels right to. You want her to know that you could love her son if he let you, that you would in a heartbeat. It’s just more complicated than that. 

“I can tell you do. And he cares about you, too. He’s just stubborn.” She pauses. “And scared.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. “Me too.”

Touya walks through the door a moment later. “We should go soon. I wanna leave before it gets dark. And I don’t need you two spilling any more secrets about me to each other.”

You freeze for a moment, wondering if he heard your earlier exchange, but the teasing tilt of his voice tells you he didn’t. 

You say goodbye to Rei, and she makes you both promise that you’ll visit her again soon. When she hugs you, firm and tight like before, you feel sad to go. Touya guides you to his car with a hand placed on the small of your back. He doesn’t open your door for you, but he holds your hand the entire way home. 

…

should we open a cafe read 2:22pm

what sent 2:25pm

or a bookstore read 2:26pm

what are u talking abt sent 2:27pm

both at the same time read 2:28pm

???? read 2:28pm

u wanna be business partners on top of being sent 2:29pm

whatever this is sent 2:29pm

fuck buddies read 2:30pm

ew sent 2:30pm

dont call it that sent 2:30pm

lovers???? read 2:32pm

pls stop sent 2:33pm

what shld we name the cafe/bookstore read 2:34pm

?? read 2:40pm

…

“Touya!” You cry, head thrown against the foggy car window as he stares up at you from between your legs. You run one hand through his hair as he runs his tongue through your folds. You whine. “Oh, my god.”

He pulls away to let out a breathy laugh, eyes finding yours as he kisses your thighs. You shift your hips forward, missing his mouth against your cunt. It’s cramped in his car, your back uncomfortably pressed against the door. Touya’s contorted in a way that allows his long body to fit in the back seat with the door closed. His comfort is an afterthought while in between your thighs.

“Don’t stop.” You cry, wiggling your hips. He grins, bringing his hand up to run two fingers gently over your clit. It’s not enough. You can barely stand it.

“Poor baby.” He coos, rubbing agonizingly slow circles over your most sensitive spot. “Were you gonna come?”

“Fuck you.” You speak through clenched teeth, moving your hips to try and grind against his fingers. 

“Not yet.” He teases, before attaching his lips to your cunt once more. His movements are hurried, making a mess of you in his backseat as he runs his tongue over your clit over and over again. You feel his hand reach up to grab your wrist, bringing it back to the top of his head. You tug on his hair, grinding against his face, understanding exactly what he wants from you. He groans against you, reaching down to touch himself through his jeans. 

“I’m close!” You whine. Every flick of his tongue is controlled, his only goal being your pleasure. His fingers dig into one of your thighs, and the feeling of your hips twitching against him drives him insane. 

“Come for me, baby.” Touya pleads, releasing his grip on your thigh and rubbing a soothing hand over the spot. “You look so fucking pretty when you come. Let me see it.”

With one last swipe of his tongue, you're pushed over the edge, legs shaking around his head as he continues movements against you. He pulls away, leaving kisses against your thighs, moving up over your stomach, your chest, your neck. He pulls you forward with one arm so that you're pressed against him. 

“C’mere.” He whispers, pressing his lips tenderly to yours, far too sweet for casual. He slips his tongue into your mouth, and you reach down to touch him over his jeans. He bucks his hips up, letting out a moan against your lips, when his phone begins to ring. He ignores it, pulling away to kiss your neck. You thumb the button of his jeans open, reaching down to touch him again, when the ringing of his phone interrupts yet again. Touya lets out an annoyed sigh, reaching into his back pocket to pull the buzzing device out. 

“What.” He speaks, voice laced with anger. When the voice on the other end of the line speaks, you know it’s Tomura. 

Touya met Tomura a few years after he met you, and you liked him. You did, but he always found a way to get under Touya’s skin at the worst times. Every comment he makes about the relationship between the two of you leaves Touya with far too much to think about. It usually pushes him away from you for a week at most, replying to your messages with short answers, canceling plans. You figure that now that he’s picked up the phone, your fun in Touya’s backseat is over. 

Touya speaks to Tomura as you pull your shirt back over your head, not bothering with your bra, just wanting to get dressed as quickly as possible. You search for your skirt, spotting it halfway underneath Touya while he tells Tomura he’s not free until Saturday night. You try to pull it out from under him, but it won’t budge.

“You’re sitting on my skirt.” You speak softly so you don’t interrupt his call. He notices immediately, lifting his hips for you to grab the piece of clothing. He mutters a quick sorry as you pull it over your legs, and you can hear Tomura question him over the phone. 

“Huh? It’s no one.” He speaks, and though you know that you’re nothing more to Touya than a “friend” as he puts it, you hoped you were more to him than “no one”.

You pull your clothes on and exit the car, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation. The car sits on a ledge, high on some mountain that overlooks a lush forest below. Touya showed you this place years ago while you were still just friends, somewhere that was just his became yours together. Back then it meant a lot to you. Now you know it probably meant nothing to him. 

Touya exits the car a couple of minutes after you, eyeing you as you stare down over the cliff. You don’t notice when he comes up beside you, a hand on your back. He says, “you okay?”

“Mhm.” You nod your head, hands crossed over your chest. “I’m tired. Can you take me home?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” He presses a kiss to your temple before walking towards the car. On your way home, when Touya’s hand begins to creep towards your thigh, you cross your legs and move your stare towards your window. When he drops you off at home, you don’t kiss him goodbye.

…

come over read 8:18pm

cant sent 8:30pm

why not read 8:31pm

im studying sent: 8:34pm

study here read 8:35pm

no sent 9:00pm

you’re distracting sent 9:00pm

…

what are you doing read 1:22pm

fuyumi wants me to invite you to lunch read 1:24pm

tell her im sorry but i have class right now sent 1:30pm

u dont have class right now read 1:32pm

?? read 1:32pm

…

where have you been read 11:11pm

i want you read 11:11pm

come over read 11:12pm

please read 11:12pm

wanna kiss you read 11:16pm

need u read 11:30pm

sorry read 10:02am

stole a bottle from natsuo read 10:03am

i wanna see you though read 10:20am

...

Touya texts…a lot.

Your excuses are weak, especially to the man who knows you better than anyone in the world, someone who’s committed your schedule to memory for the better part of two years. But you try because it hurts, because despite agreeing to casual, you cannot continue to pretend like you aren’t in love with Touya. And you can’t continue to pretend that he’s in love with you too. 

You write a lot to try and process it all. You write in your “little diary” as he called it, page after page about him and his pretty eyes, and his stupid hair, and his fucking tongue. It’s hard not to miss him. 

You screen most of his calls when you can get away with it, but he texts you after each one you miss. He has no problem with double, triple, quadruple texting you because it’s you. There’s no pressure to impress or feign disinterest with you. You know this isn’t about the sex. Touya wants his friend back.

Only the thing is, you can’t be his friend. Not now, not after crossing every single possible line with him. You’ve fallen for him. This much you can admit to yourself, but you’ll never admit it to him. 

So your only option is distance, which hurts you just as much as it hurts him. You want to send him cats you see on the street. You want to ask him to see the newest horror film with you. You want to lay in his bed and trace the lines on his face and wake up with his head buried in your neck. 

What you want is to be his girlfriend. You want him to love you back. 

You don’t know if it’s worse to be with him or without him. 

…

r you busy rn? read 5:44pm

yeah  sent 5:45pm

ok read 5:45pm

…

There’s a knock at your door at six pm on the dot while you’re thirty-seven pages deep into some cheesy romance novel you picked up to try and mend your broken heart, fill the void that you created by pushing your best friend (and the love of your life) away. 

It doesn’t help that you’re wearing one of his shirts. 

You open your door and peek through the crack. Touya stands there with a six-pack in one hand and the leather jacket he knows you love on him so much hung effortlessly over his shoulders. Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. He looks like a model and you’re wearing his T-shirt.

He doesn’t say hello, just pushes his way through and kicks his annoyingly loud boots off, setting them by the door. He places the six-pack on the counter before muttering, “Cute shirt.”

He’s teasing you. You want to strangle him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, an annoyed huff leaving your lips as you cross your arms over your chest as if it’ll hide the shirt that he’s already noticed. 

“Um, well.” He shrugs, strolling over to your couch where you left your romance novel and fuzzy blanket. He picks the book up and looks at you. “You know, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” You stomp towards him, snatching the book out of his hands. “You’re the worst. Why don’t you ever say what you actually mean.”

You know why, though. Because Touya is unknowable, or at least he thinks himself to be. That’s why he doesn’t tell you anything real but allows you to see his apartment, allows you to see him naked with all of his scars and make love to him with the lights on. He won’t say that he loves you, but he’ll leave you thirty missed calls and show up at your apartment when he doesn’t get an answer. He won’t say that he’s worried, but he is. You know that he is because you’re the only person who’s ever really known him, even before the sex. Touya has always been yours. If Touya thinks you know nothing, at the very least he thinks you know this. 

“Yeah.” He says. “You know, it’s funny cause, all of a sudden my best friend stopped talking to me. Not exactly not talking because she does answer my texts, still. Sometimes she answers my calls, but not really. But, I haven’t seen her in person in weeks. I miss her, and her stupid face, and her giant comfy couch.”

“Touya–” You begin to speak, but you don’t even know what you’re going to say. You’re definitely not going to explain yourself. You’re not going to confess to him wearing his t-shirt like some sad ex-girlfriend. 

“Where did you go?” He asks. His voice breaks and it's like a blade in your heart. “Did I do something? Did I say something?”

“I didn’t go anywhere, Touya. I’m here. I’m here, I just–” you pause, trying to find the words to explain it all. “I don’t think we can do this anymore.”

“Do what?” He asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question. He knows what’s coming.

“Sleeping together. I don’t–I can’t–” You try again, but it’s fucking hard to talk to him. You want to kiss him. You want to fall into his arms. You want him to make you forget.

“Done.” He says. He doesn’t hesitate, and it hurts. “We can stop, we can–I just want you back. I want you with me. We can be just friends again, but please, please don’t leave.”

Tears fill your eyes at his words. He’s finally talking to you, finally saying something real, baring his soul, and you can’t tell him that you’ll stay. You love him so much, but you’re selfish. 

“We can’t be friends either.” You choke, staring at the floor. If you look into his eyes, you’ll break. 

“Why?” He shakes his head, “Talk to me, what’s happening? What changed?”

“Why do you care so much, Touya? I thought I was no one.” The words leave your lips before you can stop them. 

“When did I say that?” He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember and it’s the one thing you’ve been agonizing over for weeks. 

“What is it about Tomura that makes you shut down around me?” You ask him. Realization falls across his face. “Every time you talk to him you…pull away. I don’t know what to do with that.”

“I don’t pull away.” He argues.

“You do.”

“Is that what you’re doing? You’re trying to get back at me or something?”

“I’m trying to fucking–get over you!” 

There’s nothing but silence after your confession. Your eyes fall closed in defeat, admitting the one thing you never wanted him to know. 

“I can’t do casual. I am not casual. I tried to be cool. I was really good at it for a while, but now it just hurts.” You speak, voice shaking as you gain the courage to say everything you need to. “The thing is, I love you. And not how I’ve always loved you. I’m in love with you. So it sucks when, you know, I know you’re not in love with me.”

“Who told you I’m not in love with you?” He asks.

“You’re mean.” You say, glaring at him for the unnecessary question. No one told you. You just know. “It’s obvious.”

“Yeah? Is it?” He asks. “You think I bring anyone to meet my mom? You have half of my wardrobe here. You have a toothbrush and all of your stupid skincare shit at mine. I hold your hand in public. I text you good morning and shit.”

“So that means you’re in love with me?”

“Fuck, I thought it did.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. His roots are grown out, you notice. Have you really been gone that long?

“I don’t understand.” Touya is in love with you. Is that what he’s getting at? 

“I love you.” He shakes his head, remembering your words from earlier. Not how I’ve always loved you. “I’m in love with you. That’s–Tomura knows. He knew it before I did. He says some dumb shit about it every time I talk about you, and it scares me, so I pull away. I didn’t know it felt like this. I’m fucking miserable.”

“When did you know?” You ask.

“Honestly? I think I always have been. I think that’s why I brought up sleeping together. I wanted to be closer to you without all of the commitment. But it was when you came to dinner that time when my dad showed up.” He walks toward you slowly as he speaks. He’s becoming more sure of himself, open. He’s done hiding. “And when we left, you were so fucking angry. You just ranted about him the whole way home, and it clicked. We were at a stop light and you were moving your hands all around and I thought ‘fuck, please don’t fall in love with this girl’, but it was too late and I knew it.”

“I think this is the most you’ve ever said to me.” You say dumbly. Touya just confessed his love to you and this is what you say?

“That’s not true. I never shut up. You know that. You tell me that all the time.”

“I mean–not, like, about music, or books, or someone who came into work. I mean real, raw, ‘fuck, don't fall in love with this girl’ shit.” You explain, a sly grin falling across your lips.

“You’re a dick.” He chuckles, wrapping his fingers around one of your wrists, and dragging you toward him. 

“Yeah, but you’re in love with me.” You shrug, smiling up at him. 

“Yeah, I really fucking am.” He says before he leans down to kiss you. It feels right, familiar. It is like all of the others because there’s always been love. It’s always been there. He’s always been yours. Touya knows you know this. “Please don’t…pull away again.”

“Okay.” You agree, resting your forehead against his. 

“Cause I’m just gonna chase after you.”

“Yeah? Gonna show up at my apartment with beer I don’t like?” You tease, and he rolls his eyes. 

“Fuck you.” He says with absolutely no venom behind it.

“Yeah, maybe you should.” You grin. 

#dabi x reader #dabi x female reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x female reader #bnha x reader

[jellyfishsthings]

Nerves and Stolen Kisses

I have been toying with the idea of writing a fic about him for quite sometime and after last weekend I just had to. Estelle ( Ollie's rumoured gf is mentioned here but it is a fake relationship for PR reasons.) Also Paul Aron has a gf... friends to lovers trope.

Shoutout to @httpiastri for the inspiration

The Saudi Arabian Grand Prix was fast approaching. And Ollie was a jumble of nerves and excitement as usual. Since the early hour of the day, he opened the curtains letting the sun into the room and you groaned into the pillow.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead. Come on, we have a whole day ahead of us.”

“No, you do. I don't know why I came.”

“Because I am your bestest friend and I paid for your ticket and let you stay with me.”

“Both of which are for your benefit.”

“Come on….”

“Fine.” You say with a dejected sigh as you get up and you both get ready for the day. David, Ollie's dad was already waiting for you and you headed towards the paddock.

Everything was a frenzy and was passing by so quickly. As Ollie got into the garage and got ready for the quali you headed towards the stands trying to find Cassie, Paul's long-term girlfriend. Throughout the years you have formed a unique friendship. She was the only one who knew about your crush on Ollie and she teased you endlessly about it. Ollie and you had been best friends for the better part of your life, joint to the hip, having endless sleepovers, even if Dad didn't approve.

It was an endless nightmare being close enough to get a taste of all the what ifs, but never experiencing them.

“Do you and your lover boy share a room, huh?”

“It's not like that and you know it, Cassandra.”

“Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?”

“So much. You have no idea. Yesterday I couldn't sleep and as the hours passed, he came closer and closer. He ended up holding me in his sleep. And I felt so bad because of Estelle. I know that they aren't really together and it's for PR, but still, I feel awful because technically I am the other woman… and she is just so nice and sweet. Never overstepping, I think she knows.”

We both stay quiet after that as the session continues.

“You know… whatever the case. You both love each other, platonically or not.”

“Yeah, I know.” I say as I watch the times set by all the drivers, Ollie having the fastest one yet.

“Looks like your man is on pole.”

We both make our way through the paddock, trying to pass the roaring sea of fans and we hand out already-signed autographs to anyone who asks for them. When we finally arrive, we part ways, before making promises about having dinner together at a restaurant Cassie wanted to try. And I head towards the Prema garage finding two beaming Bearmans, hugging.

“Hey Bear. Did you drive fast enough?” You call at him. And he grins like an idiot before swooping you into a tight hug spinning you. His laughter echoes in your ears as he sets you down.

“Yeah I drove fast enough, you minx.”

“Good. Now let's go. We are having dinner with Paul and Cassie in four hours and I want to see the city.”

“Give me five minutes to change and we are good to go.”

The afternoon is spent visiting local stores, trying to communicate in scrappy English and making terrible puns with products or street names. When they finally head to the restaurant their sides hurt from laughing. Dinner passed by as quickly as it came. As everyone says, time flies by when you are with the people you love.

Just as they open the door for their hotel room, Ollie flops in the bed as you head towards your computer and open it as hoards of emails and messages appear on the screen. Great more deadlines and essays to write until the end of the week.

“Leave it. We can pretend that we have nothing to do and watch a movie or local TV and try to understand what the hell is going on.”

“Thanks Bear. But I can't, as tempting as your offer is. Go to sleep, I will join you soon.”

And so you sit in front of your computer, ending essay after essay, sending them on time, until your eyes hurt from the pale blue light. The bed seems more welcoming than ever before as Ollie starfishes the entire length of it and his soft snores fill the empty space. Yeah, maybe it's time to call it a day.

An awful sound echoes in the room and eventually wakes you.

“I swear if it's one more ad I will jump from the window.” You grumble into your pillow as you steal the blankets and turn yourself into a burrito.

Ollie hisses as he opens his phone only to find a ton of messages and many missed calls from Ferrari. He dials Fred back as he moves towards the bathroom, trying to let you steal a few more minutes of much needed sleep.

When he emerges back in the room he sits down in front of you, his back supported on the bed.

“Ols, what's going on?”

“Carlos has an appendix”

“Oh no. Is he having surgery?”

“Yeah.” He says softly. “They want me to replace him.”

“What?” At that you are fully awake. Your hair is a netted nest and you look at him in shock. He looks at you, you his best friend who would look like a mess to anyone else but to him you look like the most beautiful and amazing creature in the world. Your mere presence has a more calming effect on him than anything else. If it weren't for you, he would have already lost his mind. “How? When? I…”

“We need to get to the paddock, if I don't want to miss FP3. I will wake up Dad and break the news to him.”

Soon after you enter the paddock and thousands of reporters try to get a better look at Ollie, flashing their cameras at you and bombarding you with questions as you make your way to the Ferrari garage and mechanics steal Ollie from you and David as they set to work quickly. David looks pale and sick as he paces into the garage trying to control his nerves through the FP3 and the Quali. When Ollie finally got off the car when he scored the 11th place, missing Q2 only by 3 hundreds of a second, you knew that this was it. He was finally shining like the bright star he was. He had done more than enough, his raw talent showing with barely one hour to get used to the car. And as mechanics and reporters closed around him. You couldn't help but feel like you didn't belong here. Where did you fit in? The reality hit you and it hit you hard. You hid in the back corners of the garage, eyes glued to the screen as everyone passed by without acknowledging you. You would happily hide in the shadows where he shined but this world wasn't meant for you. The anxiety was picking up at you, eating you alive from the inside.

And when Ollie got too close to the wall, your heart stopped beating. He was driving a car that was twice as fast and twice as dangerous than his normal F2 car. It was too much. The sound, the danger, everything really. Breathing suddenly seemed so hard and you needed a way out. As you hide behind the garage you call the one person who could understand. Terri picks up in the second ring her soft voice already calming you.

“Hey love. Is everything alright?”

“How do you do it? How can you stand back and do nothing?”

“You love him, don't you sweetheart?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Well … no I always hoped but… whatever the case, to answer your question you simply do it, you just have to. A driver needs his support system and you are it for him. You are his forever person, whether that is romantically or not. He needs to be near you and as much nervous as you are, so is he. Without you he would be lost, believe me I know my son. And I can bet you that as much as your heart breaks right now, you are also immensely proud.”

“Of course I am. But where do I fit in, in this world.”

“Right beside him, love.”

“Thanks Terri. Please call David. I think he is losing his mind and he is sick with worry.” You say chuckling before saying your goodbyes and head back towards the garage. The session is already over and Ollie is nowhere in sight.

Ollie plays with the power button of his phone trying to calm down but to no avail. The lock screen is a photo of the two of you. It was last summer both your skins flushed and hair slightly wet and tangled. You both smile at the camera and your eyes look bright with happiness. He feels slightly lighter but he knows that there is an impending panic attack and so he turns to the one person who could help him in this situation.

"I got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "How are you doing?”

Ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. His eyes are stuck on the floor, his silence is defeaning. When he still doesn't answer, your heart rate picks up. Is something really wrong?

You make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before. Not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year, not when he was cheated out from the Formula 3 championship. Once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight.

"Ollie, talk to me," you plead, holding back the tears that starts to form on your eyes and threatento spill. It's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. Not now, not when he needs you this much.

"I'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "I'm so nervous, I don't know what to do."

It's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. Ollie, your usually so calm and collected best friend is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. He is a messy jumble of nerves.

"I get that. One hundred per cent. But.." your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "This is your dream. It's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance.”

"And it's not just any car, it's a Ferrari. Do you realize how cool that is? Do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" You smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. Even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous, not that you would ever tell him that. "You would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"But what if I ruin it?" His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "What if I go out there and I'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've made by even putting me in the academy? What if-"

"It won't happen." His eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "You're too good to do that. You'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

Finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. It's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "I'll try my best to make you proud."

“I'm always proud of you, you mufflehead.”

A laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. His heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second now. But his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter. And soon enough his heartbeat slows to normal.

“I bet that in twenty four hours not only will you finish the race, you will score points and beat Max Verstappen.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves” he says chuckling. “God, my neck is killing me.”

“Sit down. I've got you.” And so you start massaging his neck. It's stiff and hard under your hands and he lets a small groan as you untangle one of the knots that were quite painful. After a few minutes he is putty in your hands, his eyes closed, trusting you completely and feeling at ease for the first time in the past two days.

True to your world, Ollie crosses the finish line in seventh place, having gained points in his debut. But the one thing that kept him calm through the process was the thought that she was waiting for him in the cool down room. When the race finishes and drives the car back home he jumps from his seat and he can't get fast enough to her. People around him are praising him and congratulating him but they all fall to deaf eyes.

When he finally gets into the room to change into new fireproofs, she is patiently waiting for him. Her eyes are a little misty and her face flushed.

“I told you.”

“I didn't beat Max.”

“Still.”

She closes in on him and her hands are thrown around his neck, he reciprocates the hug immediately as his heart beat finally slows down. They doth draw away after a while only for him to dive back into her and kiss her firmly on the lips. Shock petrifies her and when he stops, he places his forehead on top of hers. He is a flustered mess and he is mumbling apologies, before she reconnects their lips.

For the following hours Ollie sports a shit-eating grin on his face. Everyone thinks that it is because of his amazing performance and not for kissing the girl that held his heart captive since they were five years old.

#ollie bearman #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman x female reader #oliver bearman #oliver bearman x reader #oliver bearman imagine #formula 1 #formula 2

[simpjaes]

SIMP

SUMMARY: men are liars. especially, jake sim, some guy you met once at a party and now only know through text messages. he makes promises he can’t keep but it’s mostly because he likes to hide that he’s more desperate than you are to get his dick wet. 

jake sim x afab reader 

MDNI!

WC: 5.6k

GENRE: smut, kinda subby!jake

TAGS: desperate jake, he’s experienced with sex just really bad at not being pussy drunk, reader has fun anyway and pokes fun at how he talked big game and couldn’t live up to it.

A/N:  i know, i know. i’m supposed to be writing a different jake fic but this happened.  this is a gift for my other monster cock loser jake lovers. not proof read

NSFW TAGS: he is packing a huge cock, nipple play, finger fucking, pussy eating, he gets compared to a dog/puppy a few times, dirty talk, jake gets desperate enough mid-way though and does fuck her really good, unprotected sex, cream pie, lots and lots and lots of cum.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Six times the man known as Jake Sim rendered you sore the next morning using nothing but pixel words on your phone screen. Six times over the span of two weeks. 

You met him at a party, and he was both the first and the last man you spoke to that night. You should have caught on back then why he didn’t bring you home with him and only offered you his number with a wink and a shit-eating grin. 

Now, as you see him in front of you again, this time in your apartment, you can see exactly why he didn’t bring you home. His facade would have been broken and you never would have been able to see the dirty little texts he’s able to send when he doesn’t have you looking him in the eye.

“Didn’t you say you were going to have me against every surface in my apartment the second you get here?” You question, twenty minutes into him being over and not once making a move on you. 

He looks much more awkward compared to the tipsy man you originally met, still his dyed blond hair looks just as messy though. His fashion is still on par with the attitude you’d seen him throw at you too but,  this version of him is throwing you for a loop. His lack of response leads you to believe that he must have lost interest in the span of time he’s been over.

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Jake finally responds, brushing his fingers through his hair as he sits stiffly next to you on your bed, fully clothed. “Usually I don’t actually come see the girls I text.”

You shuffle next to him, turning with an eyebrow raised at him. 

“So you’re not going to, then?” 

Jake looks at you dumbfounded, shaking his head as if to pity himself before nodding quickly.

“I’d like to,” he argues, fiddling with his hands and avoiding your eyes now. “I just, um…”

You wait, allowing the silence to take hold of the room. 

“I’m a little more uh–” He fidgets and fumbles his words again. “Listen, I don’t want to disappoint you if I don’t live up to how we normally talk.”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, feeling duped by the man sitting there. 

“I’m actually kind of like–” He lets out a deep sigh before turning toward you with honest eyes. “You’re making me shy, okay?” 

You breathe in, shocked because based on the strings upon strings of sentences he’s thrown your way via text, the last thing you’d ever consider Jake is fucking shy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He was right in telling you he was shy, and by now you appreciate the warning from him. It took a few minutes to get yourself back into the mood, but it happened nonetheless when he finally buckled under your gaze and kissed you.

If there was anything Jake did that he promised, it was kissing you in a way you never knew you needed. He was good at it too, so good that you nearly forgot he was supposed to have already fucked you on every surface the two of you passed to get to the very room you’re in right now. 

Kind of strange actually, that he seems so different compared to his fantasies with girls he never thinks he will actually see again. So cocky in his text messages, saying he will ruin you, asking if you’d choke on his dick, saying he would love to see you struggle under him. Now though, that very man is struggling to keep his hands to himself despite admitting that he’s shy.

You chuckle into the kiss, feeling his hands reach for you with the sound of rustling clothing against your duvet. You let him chase as you slide lower, lower, lower, until your head is against your pillow and he’s practically hovering over you to keep kissing.

This is what you wanted. Jake over you, dominating a kiss and roaming his hands up and down your body. 

“Shy?” You question between kisses, trailing your hand down to meet where his was, snaking under your shirt. “You seem to know exactly what you want.”

Jake’s eyes are empty as he looks at you, the cold feeling of his fingertips do not stop though. He continues to trail them upward until they meet the flesh of your chest, where you skipped the bra because you expected it to be a nuisance if anything tonight. 

You’re shocked by his slight groan at the feeling of your already erect nipples. His groan seemed like it came out of relief, your body showing signs of being turned on despite his reluctance that was never promised to you. 

“If you were like this over text, I still would have liked you, you know.”  You admit to him with a sigh as he trails his lips down to your jaw, and you reach for his waist to pull him further on top of you. “You’re cute still, even if you’re not about to make me cry like you said you would.”

His cock twitches at that, wishing so much that he could live up to those dirty thoughts in his head and just fucking do it. But he can’t, because his body doesn’t work like that. If he were to do all of those things to you right now, he would surely come within the span of fifteen seconds and make this the worst fuck of your life. He’s too desperate to have control, and far too timid to even pull his cock out right now. 

“It’s embarrassing,” he whispers against your earlobe, trailing kisses there too until he gets to the collar of your shirt. “I want to do those things to you, but I don’t think I’d be able to last if–”

He’s cut off by you shoving him up and pulling your shirt off in one go, trying to get to business much quicker now that he appears to at least be turned on. (Wrong, he’s been turned on since before he even got here.)

Jake trails off his sentence, forgetting what he was even going to say as the flesh of your breast sits comfortably in one of his hands and the other springs free. His cock twitches again as he stares, practically burning a hole through you as he looks, mouth slowly opening in a sigh at the image.

You see him malfunction and wonder if maybe, maybe, this could be even better than what you originally were expecting. Such a rough looking man with messy hair and even rougher fingers acting like this at the mere sight of some titties? Sign you the fuck up.

“God, look at you.” You groan with a smile, chuckling at the way he appears to blush. “You talk such big game but…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jake shakes it off, releasing his hand from your chest and now removing his own shirt and revealing a nice, toned body for you to look at. “It’s not my fault you make me act this way.”

“Oh? Just me, or?”

Jake nods, then shakes his head. 

“Not entirely, I’m just better at fucking over text.” He explains, now settling one leg between yours and dipping his head down to your chest, nuzzling against one of your tits and grabbing the other. “Doesn’t change the fact that I still want to fuck you right now though.”

You feel those words run through you, his soft voice coming out raspy and needy when he says it. 

“You’re a weird one,” You laugh, gripping his hair and bucking your hips up to straddle his thigh. “and I still want you fuck me, even if it’s not the way you said you would.” 

He licks against your chest now, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as he focuses on the feeling of you riding against his thigh. He’s thankful you still act desperate, at least you weren’t lying when you talked to him through texts.

“I’ll still make you feel good.” He whispers in a slight plea against your nipple, moving his head to the other and suckling against that one next. “Just let me try.”

God, you didn’t expect those four little words to hit you the way they do. A man asking you to let him try? Jake Sim at that? Sure, by now it should be expected but this is a different kind of heat flowing through you. Never have you been given control, and never have you felt the need to ride a man’s thigh like this. 

“Jake,” You start, a little out of breath as you move your hips against him to the point that clothing becomes far more annoying than not. “Can we please take our clothes off before anything else?”

He pauses against your nipple, nodding before suckling again and then finally pulling away.

“You first.” He says, not yet wanting to pull his thigh from the way you move against it. 

You look up at him, his lips glistening from his own saliva coating your chest.

“Why? Are you lying about your massive cock too?”

Jake looks down at the bulge between his legs and then back at you. Your eyes followed him to his cock, and they remained there.

“Oh.” You smile, now having the ability to pull yourself from his thigh and pull your shorts off at record speed. “Show me.”

Jake lets out a breathy and nervous chuckle, his ears flashing a darker shade of red than before as he nods to you in a timid way. You watch his hands go for the button and zipper, and you watch them further as they lower his pants to his knees before he kicks them away behind him. Now, all that’s left is looking at the already dampened spot on his briefs and the huge length stuffed beneath, clearly needing some relief. 

He still looks away from you, not yet moving to take off his briefs until you feel his hands pull at your panties. 

“Can I see now too?” He asks, already pulling them to the side and catching a glimpse of your folds. He shudders visibly at it before letting your panties snap back into place and all you can do is stare, still, between his legs.

“Take them off.” You deadpan.

He’s unsure if you’re implying he take his off, or yours, so he shoots for what he would prefer, gripping your panties and rolling them off of you. 

“Take. them. off.” You say, ignoring the fact that you’re entirely vulnerable before him, yet feel safe and comfortable because of how timid yet eager he appears to be. 

He fumbles to follow your direction, quickly kicking off his briefs and positioning himself between your legs again, sitting on his knees. 

Your eyes don’t leave his exposed cock. Thick and heavy. He truly wasn’t lying about that at least, and you can imagine that regardless of how shy he is, he definitely could make good on his word with a cock like that.

“Oh, fuck.” You comment, lifting on your elbows and sitting up. Your face is now mere inches from his, but your eyes continue to stare down. 

He puts a hand over himself shyly, wondering if maybe you’re not impressed, maybe he’s a complete fraud. 

“Are you disappointed?” He asks, leaning a bit back and away from you.

“Disappointed?” You laugh, looking back up at him and instantly grabbing his face, staring directly into his eyes. “Jake, you’re bigger than what you described it as.”

He smiles a bit, feeling all fuzzy and warm inside as you look at him. His confidence bubbles up, giving him every ability in the world at this moment, and what does he do with it? He looks between the two of you as he drops his cock and watches it land between your legs, and then he looks back at you before dipping in for a much less timid kiss.

Feeling his cock rest between your legs is one thing, but feeling how his tongue kisses into your mouth at a more eager pace than before is an entirely different thing. You’re loving it, despite the turn of events with him. 

“Not so shy now, hm?” You laugh, tilting your head before dipping back in to kiss him only to be met with a sigh of chuckles from him. 

“If you keep complimenting me, maybe someday I can live up to all those promises,” He says, putting a hand at the nape of your neck and laying you back down. “Then again, I don’t expect to last nearly as long with how wet you seem to have gotten.”

You hum against his words, hands reaching between your body and his to grab his length and hold it, just to feel the weight, just to see how much of it you can fit into one hand…just to see if–

He groans at the first touch, his body shivering against yours as he trails his lips down again, landing against your neck with a small pant when his hips buck into your palm. 

“I can’t believe that this whole time, this is how you react to having your dick touched.”

He says nothing and instead, continues to fall into the feeling of the short tugs against his cock, barely stimulating his entire length but still feeling like it’s enough to keep him pleased for the time being. 

“Wanna, maybe, I don’t know–” You playfully start, tugging his cock a bit harder this time after collecting some of the pre-cum from the head, “Touch me too?”

Say no more, Jake’s fingers are instantly at your entrance as soon as you say it, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls. 

“I can’t believe how wet you are,” he coos, bottoming his two fingers out before gently beginning to thrust them in. “Were you like this when we texted too?”

“Wetter.” You lie, mostly because you were extremely wet from his texts but this…this is entirely different. You’re far more wet. 

“Oh?” Jake asks, looking slightly disappointed but you can feel the way he changes how he moves his fingers. He also stops rutting against your hand, as if to put all of his focus on making you as wet as possible. 

You moan for him at the feeling, his fingers tickling a spot inside of you that always has you seeing stars. Part of you wonders if he even knows he’s doing it, but you don’t press him, instead, you reward him with a tighter grip, pumping his cock until you can feel more beads of pre-cum slathering your fingertips. 

“You need to be more confident, fuck–” You call out in a half moan, unprepared for the Jake that showed up but completely prepared to praise the hell out of what he’s doing. “This alone could have anyone on their knees.”

He smiles, furrowing his brow as he looks up at you, fingers picking up pace and starting to scissor you open. 

“Can I taste you?” He asks out of fucking nowhere, and god. 

“Jesus, Yes.” You groan, feeling him pound his fingers into you three more times before sliding out and pulling away from you. 

You close your eyes, anticipating what it must be like to have him eat your pussy, and fuck, he wasn’t lying about that either. You remember that text from him, when he said “i’ll lick up every inch of your pussy babe, you wouldn’t even have to ask.”

The fact that you didn’t ask him to do it. The fact that he’s down there right now, already spreading you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. You’re just more and more pleased with this shy man that showed up on your doorstep. 

His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.

He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer. 

You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to lick into you even deeper.

“Holy shit,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue. 

He’s nearly going insane the moment you do that, riding his tongue and gripping his hair so harshly. If he could die like this, it would only be a dream. 

Jake hums into you with his lips curling up at each drag of your hips, each taste of your walls, up until you’re grinding so aggressively that his tongue is back to hitting your clit for a split second before dipping in. He lets you do it, loving the way you use his face like a toy but, he’s starting to feel desperate for you. 

In this position with his arms hugging your thighs and back arched as he dips down to lick you, his cock is fucking aching and all he can do is fuck forward. There is nothing for him to pleasure himself with, but this suffices for him as the act of humping forward alone is enough to satiate his intense need to fuck something right now. 

Like a dog, humping just to release his intense arousal as he holds onto you. He should be embarrassed, but he knows you can’t see him do it. Especially when he flicks his eyes up and sees your tits jiggling with each move of your hips. Especially when you open your own eyes and they land only on his face. He’d like to think he’s doing a hell of a job right now, especially with how no matter how much he licks, you continue to drip for him. 

As you continue to ride yourself against his face, you suddenly feel his fingers squeezing against your thighs and his head abandon where you guide him. Wanting to taste you still, he neglects your riding hips and plants his lips at your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue until your grip in his hair grows more and more painful and you pull him back to look at him.

His eyes are dazed and his lips are glistening in a swollen and cheeky little smile. He stares back at you, licking his puffy bottom lip before letting his eyes roll at the feeling of that grip you have in your hair.

“Fuck, you’re loving this aren’t you?” You ask, now trailing your eyes down to his body and noting the way he’s desperately chasing nothing with his cock. You know he wants it, and god, are you going to let him have it. 

He grins when you ask him, and he nods proudly at how your arousal coats his mouth and chin. He can smell the entirety of you on his face and it truly does feel amazing to him. Like he’s spiraling into a world of bliss simply for getting to lick your pussy. 

You can barely contain yourself as you watch him. It’s like you’ve lost him completely from reality with the way he’s smiling, and the way his eyes remain drowsy and hooded. You could argue that the man acts cross-faded, but the fact that he acts like this over your pussy? 

“I bet if I asked you to fuck me right now, you’d beg like a little puppy, wouldn’t you?” 

His groan is long and drawn out with his slow nod, his hips fucking forward instinctively when his eyes trail down and sees that your pussy is practically pulsing. 

“Do you want me to beg?” He says in a shaky voice, his chest heaving as his grip on your thighs grow tighter and you drag him back up to your face. 

There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him fuck forward again, sliding his cock against your drenched core and letting out another pained whimper.

“You’re so wet, please.” He cries against your lips as he drops his face lower. 

Your arms shoot around him, feeling his back muscles tense with each intentional thrust against you. The weight of his cock is sliding consistently up and down your pussy, bumping your clit and overstimulating it to the point that all you’d need to do is tense your muscles and you’d be releasing. 

He said please, and you can argue that he’d probably do a flip if you so much as asked him to right now. As much as you wanted to choke on his dick, at this point you’d rather feel what it’s like to have him losing control inside of you. You want to know how he uses it, and you’re already well aware that he very well may make you lose grasp on reality. 

Even now, you can feel his slack lips moving up and down against your own as he continues to hump against you. You can feel his breath on your tongue when you try to see if he’s too lost to even kiss you. And that, he was.

“Go on,” You encourage him, running one hand down his arm and the other up to his hair to grip it again. There, you pull his head back, watching his neck crane and eyebrows furrow in a wince at the feeling. “Fuck me then.”

His unintentional moan comes out strained with the way you have his head pulled back, but he moves one arm to one side of your head and the other straight to his cock, where all he needs to do is press it down and hold it there. As he continues fucking against you, that small motion lets him slide in with ease. 

You can feel his arm beside your head shake at the feeling of his length spreading you open. You can see the way he swallows thickly at the feeling, moaning out and staring at your ceiling as he feels your walls slowly hug his entire length. 

He enters you slowly so that he can feel his sock squeeze your wet out of you, feeling it run down his balls. He shivers at the feeling and the sound of it, and you shiver at how deep he manages to slide in. 

It’s so deep. His thick cock aches inside of you and with the way your walls squeeze him, and even when he tightly fucks forward once again once he’s already bottomed out, he manages to fill you just just that much more. 

You groan out, releasing his hair from your shaking fingers and feeling his lips immediately kiss against your jaw and neck. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He whimpers, relieving you of an inch of him before sliding back in slowly. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” He continues, moving a hand down to your thigh and swirling his fingertips there to try and calm your shaking legs.

You can’t really comprehend anything other than the fact that this man is so fucking hot, and the way he slowly moves his hips just to feel each and every clench of your pussy has you seeing stars. You feel like he’s filled you up beyond belief, and each thrust somehow makes his cock feel heavier, bigger. 

Even as he babbles against your neck, his other hand falls to your tit and he can’t help but mindlessly play with it as he begins to actually fall into a rhythm. You’re still rendered completely speechless as you focus on every single touch he gives to you.

Those gentle, soothing circles of his fingertips on your leg, the other hand harshly pinching your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body, his cock being driven in, somehow, deeper and deeper as he continuously manages to hit your g-spot and– god, the way his lips slowly trail down to your other tit, biting you there.

“So tight, so good.” He babbles on, slamming his cock into you once before lifting from your breast to see your reaction. 

When he looks up at you, a permanent shit-eating grin is planted on his face with the way you roll your eyes back in a silent moan. Perhaps he wasn’t so much of a liar in those texts. Seeing you react this way has his confidence skyrocketing as he continues to keep that pace. The sound of your pussy being pounded and dripping all over him. He can’t even believe how wet you are, how tight you are still.

He stays like this, staring at each reaction and silent moan as he focuses solely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. He may not be fast, but he’s making sure you can feel every goddamn inch he has to offer, and it appears that you’re relishing in it. 

Those silent moans you try to release always end in a small hiccup each time his hips meet your inner thighs, and it’s not long before you’re losing grasp all together. You shoot your hands to his arms, gripping his biceps as your only link to reality as you feel him continuously bump the back of your pussy in an immaculate show of how well he knows how to fuck.

“Jake,” You hiccup out, gripping his biceps harder as you clench around him. 

Still, his cock drags through your attempts of speaking, and he continues to stare at you with a grin before hovering his lips over yours.

“What is it?” He whispers in a shaky breath, sucking in his bottom lip and only now picking up the pace so that he can render you speechless again. 

You can feel his lips ghosting over yours, and you really thought you had something to say but the only thing that comes out is a sobbed out moan. You throw your legs around his waist now, moving your own hips to meet his and that alone has him spiraling again.

“Yeah,” He chuckles, dipping his head to your neck and resting it there, “Fuck me,” he whimpers this time, stilling his hips to feel the way you slide him in and out of you.

Still, your strength amazes him. He thought he had control for a few minutes there and yet here he is, acting much like you are with his trembling hands and trembling thoughts. 

You continue to work your hips from under him, and you don’t even know when he stopped playing with your nipple but it doesn’t entirely matter. Not now, not when you need more of him. 

He’s thrown off when you grab his hair again, and he still loves it as much as he did the first two times you did it to him. Then, he can hear your raspy voice whisper out to him as you drag his face, once again, to yours.

“Lay back.” 

That’s all you had to say to have him immediately listening and maneuvering his body in a way that keeps his cock buried deep but still managing to throw himself back on the bed for you to take full control.

Now, he looks up at you and the way your darkened eyes devour him. He’s so fucking turned on right now that he thinks he might cry, especially with the way your knees hug his hips as you immediately start fucking yourself on him.

He’s in awe, hands reaching behind you to grab at your ass and spread it as you bounce on him. Each time you sit yourself down, it’s like you’re being impaled in the most pleasurable way possible. The way he keeps eye contact with you is intense and dangerously intimate, but you can’t bring yourself to look away either.

That smile forms back on his lips as you pick up your pace, and through that smile are moans so erotic you can feel your pussy drench him over and over again each time he does it. Never, have you had sex so fucking good in your life and it’s making you feel almost helpless as you work yourself up to an orgasm.

He still watches you though, before flicking his eyes down and taking in the image of your bouncing tits. He’s quick to remove his hands from your ass to fondle them before sitting himself up aggressively and sucking one into his mouth.

You moan out at that, stilling your bouncing as you opt now to sit with his cock entirely inside of you. You swirl your hips and plant your fingers in his hair, hugging his head as he sucks and bites a swollen spot against your chest before he holds you in an even tighter hug. 

“I’m so, so close.” He says in a broken sigh, trying to move his hips up under your weight and failing to do it.  You listen to his cries though, and resume your bouncing even through his harsh and suffocating hug. 

“Yeah?” You ask, bouncing once, swirling your hips, and then pressing your weight on him to have him falling back into his rightful spot against your bed. 

His grip around you remains, dragging you down with him as he breathes himself through the pleasure and babbles out strings of curses when you manage to still work your hips on him even though he’s gripping onto you for dear life. 

“Gonna let me feel it?” You ask again, this time more playfully as you intentionally press your clit against his pelvis each time you slide him into you. 

He nods brokenly, squeezing his eyes shut and loosening his grip on you, letting you break free and ultimately, intentionally fuck him until he’s pumping you full of everything he has to offer.

You watch as he lies there, seemingly lost again in the bliss of your pussy clenching around him. He barely notices your fingers circling your clit, and is shocked to realize that you’re releasing before him, despite how close he is.

He can feel your walls massage his aching cock as you begin to let out strained moans. He knows you’re coming the second he feels how tight you’re clenching, sucking his cock so deeply inside of you that he has no choice but to release. 

He fucks into you as best he can at this moment, only stopping when he feels the first release inside of you, and there, he tenses his muscles and allows his stiffened length to nearly tear you in half as you continue to work through your own pleasure. 

You can barely open your eyes to see his face, and the way his jaw is slack and his eyes are very nearly crossing before squeezing them shut. God, that alone could have made your orgasm last another ten seconds.

By the time you’re done, he’s still releasing somehow. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilling into you is arguably more than you’ve ever felt, and he trembles through it with whimpered apologies, begging you to stay on him, apologizing with a small “ fuck, wait, I’m still coming–”

And you do, especially through his shaking whisper of “please, take all of it.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He’s back to his timid self just an hour later, lying on your bed wondering when you’re going to tell him to leave. Wondering if you like him enough to let him do this again with you, hoping you don’t erase his number. 

He’s pleased to know though that, you not only ask him to sleep over but you also make it your mission to go down on him the moment he wakes up next to you. Reminding him that even if he was different upon coming over, he still fucked you better than he ever promised. 

You’d be stupid not to choke on it for him. 

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[rosyblooom]

a in anniversary is for apple pie! | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: charles and y/n return from their wedding anniversary dinner to find their daughter still awake and adamant about wanting the apple pie she was promised tonight! A/N: tysm for 500 followers🥹 pls accept this entirely sweet & happy fic as a token of my appreciation🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading <3

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc Happy wedding anniversary to my beautiful wife, Y/N. You hold my heart in the palm of your hands, but I couldn't imagine it safer anywhere else. I'm excited for more, mon cœur 🙏❤️

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charles_leclerc posted to his story!

[ caption: Wow. ]

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: mon amour ❤️ ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

Fumbling, you struggle to insert the key into the lock, a task made unexpectedly difficult by your husband's impatience. His gentle kisses land on the nape of your neck, his soft whispers proving to be an unwelcome distraction. "Stop it! Can't you wait until we're inside?" you scold, attempting to maintain focus. But his arms remain securely wrapped around your waist, his affectionate gestures relentless. "Remember, we have to face the babysitter the moment we open the door."

"Mhm," Charles hums against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine and a suppressed smile to your lips. You curse silently at the six-inch heels you foolishly chose, your knees growing weaker with each passing second, the shoes only exacerbating the situation.

With a soft click, the door swings open, a rush of relief flooding through you as you silently thank your lucky stars. But before you can fully absorb the scene, the familiar sound of footsteps, accompanied by a beloved voice, reaches your ears.

"Maman!" Your daughter's enthusiastic embrace threatens to topple you as her tiny arms envelop your thighs. The warmth of Charles beside you momentarily dissipates as he steps back, a look of surprise crossing his features.

Running a hand through his beard, he gently tousles D/N's hair as he asks, "What are you doing up so late, love?"

Annie, your babysitter, interjects with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, I tried to get her to bed, but she insisted you guys were making apple pie tonight." She scratches the back of her neck, shrugging apologetically. "I did my best, but this little one is quite determined, as I've come to learn. Right, D/N?" Annie redirects her attention downward, addressing your daughter.

“You promised me apple pie, Maman!” D/N's insistent plea rings out, her small fingers grasping the fabric of your dress. “And I want it now! I want it now! I want it now!”

Kneeling down to her level, you gently place a finger to your lips. “Alright, D/N, I can hear you, but not so loud. Remember, at night-time, we use our inside voice, okay?” Tenderly, you intertwine your hands with hers, tracing comforting circles on the back of her hands.

D/N nods solemnly and whispers, “You promised me you’d make apple pie, and I want it now. Papa,” she turns her pleading gaze to Charles, releasing herself from your grasp and wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve been waiting all day for this, please, Papa.”

Motioning for you to handle the situation with Annie, Charles scoops D/N up, settling her on his hip before disappearing down the hallway and into the kitchen.

You straighten up, offering Annie an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry about that,” you say, reaching into your bag and retrieving an envelope labelled ‘Annie’s pay’. With a gentle gesture, you extend your arm, offering it to her. “This covers today, plus a tip, of course.”

Annie shakes her head, pushing the envelope back towards you. “I can’t accept this. I mean, I failed at getting her to sleep.”

“What?” You try to keep your voice steady, but frustration seeps through. “No, absolutely not.” Determinedly, you grasp her hand, pressing the envelope into her palm before folding it closed. “This is your money; you showed up today and did amazing, as usual. I promised D/N something, so that’s on me, really.”

She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly. “Are you sure, Mrs. Leclerc?”

You let out a hum. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s just Y/N. None of that Mrs. stuff in this house, please,” you chuckle, “you're making me feel old.”

“Right, sorry, Y/N,” Annie quickly corrects herself.

Satisfied, you nod. “We’re getting there… But yes, I am absolutely sure. You deserve every single cent. Seriously,” you emphasise, “you’re a huge help to my family.”

"Alright, thank you, Y/N," Annie retrieves her bag from the hook on the wall and opens the door. "Have a good night."

"You too, Annie. Thanks again."

With a sudden slam, the door startles you for a moment before you release a long breath. You kick off your heels, relieved to be free of the "death traps" as you call them. As your feet meet the cool marble floor, a wave of calm washes over you, releasing the tension from your shoulders. It's exactly what you needed. Feeling much better, you slip off your coat and hang it beside the door before making your way into the kitchen.

A short while later…

"Alright," you lean over the counter, your forearms resting on the cool top, a warmth spreading through your heart as you watch Charles holding D/N in his arms, gently swaying side to side as they dance.

"That's what your mum and I were doing after we finished eating," he whispers.

D/N's high-pitched giggles fill the room, her tiny hand gripping a couple of Charles' fingers. "I want to come next time," she says, turning her head towards you. "Please, please, can I come next time, Maman?"

"Yes," you smile, "of course. Next time, you'll join us for our little anniversary date, okay?"

"Yay!" your daughter raises her hands in excitement, her face beaming.

Recalling the original plan, you clap your hands together. "Alright, D/N, are you still sure you want apple pie tonight? Not tomorrow or the day af—?"

"No, no, no!" she interrupts. "I want apple pie now!"

"Okay, okay… Time to wash your hands then, honey."

D/N squirms in Charles' grip, and when he finally releases her, she races for the sink in the corner of the room, immediately flicking the tap on.

Charles chuckles at the sight before turning his attention to you, stepping closer. You straighten up from the counter just in time as his hands envelop you, trapping you between the counter and his body.

"Looks like our plans will have to wait until later, huh?" you whisper, your voice taking on a sultry tone as your fingers trail up his broad chest, halting on his black tie, starting to unravel it.

Charles leans down, his warm breath slipping into the gap between your parted lips, the sweet tinge of red wine coating your tongue. "Looks like it… But I can wait, mon cœur," his voice resonates breathily as he closes the remaining distance between your faces, his soft lips meeting yours, hungry yet gentle. The kiss is brief, barely lasting long enough for you to savour the moment, though he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it slightly before releasing his hold and pulling away.

Remembering your husband’s earlier impatience when you were struggling to open the front door, you fold his tie and set it aside before raising a single brow, asking, “Oh, can you now?”

Charles nods with a sly smile, but before he can respond, D/N beats him to it, diverting your attention as she waltzes towards you.

“Hands are washed!” she exclaims, shaking her hands dry.

"Good job, darling." You slip from Charles’ embrace, grabbing the kitchen roll off the counter and passing it to D/N. "Here."

Once you and Charles have washed your hands, you begin assigning roles. "Baby," you address your husband, pointing, "You’ll chop up the apples, and D/N…" You tilt your head down at your daughter standing in the middle of the kitchen, her smile brimming with excitement. "Do you want to make the shortcrust pastry with me, honey?"

To your surprise, D/N shakes her head and rushes to Charles’ side, her cheek pressed against him. "I want to do what Papa is doing. I don’t want to work with you, Maman."

The admission elicits laughter from you and Charles, his chuckles resonating loudly through the room as D/N pulls open a few drawers and retrieves a butter knife and a chopping board before settling down at the dining table, her back turned to you.

As you turn around, you feel Charles’ strong arms enclose around your waist, his warm hands settling onto your stomach as he whispers into your ear, "You heard the little lady. Everything's just so much more fun with her dad, you know?"

“Shut the fuck up” you quip, jabbing him with your elbow.

“I heard that!”

D/N's words cause you to pivot, fixing your gaze on the back of her head. “I’m sorry, D/N, I shouldn’t have said that,” you concede, shooting a discreet glance at Charles. “It’s just that your father has a knack for being an annoying sh—” You cut yourself off before the insult fully forms, forcing a tight-lipped smile as Charles's laughter reverberates. “Let’s just say, he can be an annoying husband sometimes, you know?”

“No! Papa is never annoying, you’re wrong,” she counters, shooting you a reproachful look before redirecting her attention to Charles, waving. “Come on, Papa, I really want apple pie. Hurry up, I’ve already started!”

“Coming, my love,” Charles murmurs softly, turning back to you and lifting your chin with a gentle touch. He places a tender kiss on your lips, then rests his forehead against yours. “So, I’m an annoying husband, huh?”

You smile and give a nonchalant shrug. “I could've said worse, trust me.”

“Papa!” D/N's voice rings out.

Charles barely flinches at your daughter's outburst, only chuckling softly and shaking his head as he moves toward the dining table, grabbing a cutting board and a knife along the way.

“Guys, we only need about eight to ten apples!” you call out from across the kitchen.

Charles winks at you. “Perfect, we have nine.”

Without further delay, you gather the ingredients for a shortcrust pastry and begin to mix them together.

Some time later…

As you finish rolling out the second dough, D/N rushes over, balancing a large bowl of sliced apples in her arms, and exclaims, “Here, Maman! We finished!”

"Thank you so much, my love," you reply, guiding her to settle the bowl onto the counter before heading towards the oven to turn it on.

Charles lifts D/N onto the counter, and you reach into the cupboard to retrieve the cinnamon, salt, flour, and sugar, handing them to your daughter. With a few instructions, she sprinkles the ingredients into the bowl of apples and begins stirring eagerly.

As D/N continues, you feel Charles' arms wrap around you, and he mischievously pinches the side of your waist, prompting you to shriek and swat his hand away, shooting him a playful glare. "Stop that!"

Once everything's mixed together, D/N eagerly assists you in assembling the pie while Charles holds open the oven door for you to slide it in.

"Perfect," you exclaim, clapping your hands together. "We did really well."

D/N squeals with excitement, jumping up and down before extending her hand towards you, palm facing up. "High-five, Maman!"

You promptly oblige, meeting her hand with yours before she moves on to Charles.

Two hours later…

"Two scoops of vanilla ice cream on your slice?" you inquire, arching an eyebrow at your daughter, who struggles to keep her head up, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily before snapping back open.

"Huh?" she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, I'm starving, Maman."

You share a knowing glance with Charles, his dimples appearing as he smiles.

With a nod of understanding, you heap two scoops of ice cream onto her slice of golden apple pie, pushing the plate towards D/N.

Both you and Charles observe quietly as she struggles to eat even a single forkful before conceding defeat with a sigh.

Looking up from her plate, D/N's eyes flit between you and Charles, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "Actually... I'm not hungry anymore." Before you can respond, she hops up from her seat, declaring, "I'm tired. I’m going to bed now."

She gives Charles a goodnight hug, then comes to you, avoiding eye contact as she quickly embraces you. "Good night, Maman."

In the blink of an eye, she vanishes from the kitchen, her footsteps on the marble floor echoing faintly as she races down the corridor, until they're drowned out by the resounding slam of her bedroom door.

You and Charles share a glance, both of you unable to contain your laughter.

After the laughter subsides, you stand up, holding D/N’s plate, and remark, “I’ll pop this in the freezer.”

As you finish storing everything away, Charles rinses the final plate and settles it onto the drying rack. Patting his hands on a paper towel, he fixes you with a tender gaze.

Though you know it's irrational, a wave of insecurity washes over you, making you acutely aware of all your perceived flaws.

"I love you. Happy wedding anniversary to us, mon cœur," Charles' sweet words halt your anxious thoughts as he closes the distance between you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Your breath catches as his tongue traces patterns across your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling at your flesh.

It takes considerable effort to suppress a moan, but you manage to respond, "I love you, baby. Here's to at least eighty more."

You feel Charles' smile against your skin before he raises his head, eliciting a whimper as the cool air grazes your now raw neck. Before the sound can fully escape, Charles silences it by pressing his lips firmly against yours. The tension that had built up earlier floods over you like a tsunami, his hands exploring your body as your tongues dance, vying for dominance, until he breaks away abruptly.

Both of you are left breathless.

Once he catches his breath, Charles extends his hand to you, which you grasp eagerly—you need all the support you can get to avoid collapsing onto the floor; your legs feel like jelly.

Noticing your predicament, Charles' lips curl into a proud smile, prompting an eye roll from you as he effortlessly scoops you into his arms, bridal style, and plants a tender kiss on your cheek.

"I think we should continue this in the bedroom, mon cœur," he whispers, carrying you down the hallway, anticipation making your teeth capture your bottom lip.

yourusername

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yourusername I've loved you three six summers now, honey, but I want 'em all... 💕

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charles_leclerc Sounds like a beautiful plan ❤️

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