#trying so hard to enjoy alcohol free

[hoshigray]

Hello (◍•ᴗ•◍)

I really like your work it's so good!! And i saw your request is open soooo

Can i request delinquent/bad boy sukuna x student council president reader? Like they hate each other bc reader is very strict with the rule while sukuna just break it anyway. One day, sukuna saw the reader in a party which make him confused bc reader is not the type to do fun stuff. And moments later they fuck

Sorry if this is a very detailed request. Feel free to ignore it or change it :3

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my, another sukuna req! things bout to get hot, hehe~

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; Sukuna and you are college seniors - blackmail - fingering (f! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! receiving) - facials - use of a phone; sexual photography - impact play (spanking) - full nelson position - degradation (cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - humiliation - overstimulation - pet names (brat, princess, woman) - dick piercing (frenulum) - usage of drugs & alcohol - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

Sukuna was grinning ear to ear as he marched his way toward you. “Y/n.”

You perked at your name, and your face contoured to brief shock before shifting to mild annoyance. “Sukuna.”

Running into you at a huge party was the last thing Sukuna expected to see. But it’s a situation he will take advantage of expeditiously. 

College is hard enough being the top dog of the student government association and trying to juggle senior classes. It is your job to keep the school and its students in order, maintaining a pretty face as it’s been doing decently for the several years before you. The entire student body knows you take your job seriously, earning the respect they give you with every step you take and being praised by professors and faculty alike — even being invited to have dinner with the university president along your association! 

But of course, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows because there are always downsides to the good — one of them being a ginormous thorn to your being. 

Ryōmen Sukuna is a man you’ve been dealing with for almost four years. Known for his intimidating cadence whenever he walks the halls, the brutality of his moves as he’s the famous trump card of the school’s jiu-jitsu club, and his cold and demeaning manner of speech when talking down to others he deems beneath him, he is regarded at the campus’ “demon dog.” Someone that many can never believe is the older brother of the freshman track star sweetheart, Yuuji Itadori.

He is a person that many say is the complete opposite face when compared to you, a fact you have no choice but to agree with a twitching brow. Looking through all the disruptive students you’ve dealt with, Sukuna would be crowned King for being the most colossal nuisance of your life. Whether it be reporting him to the campus police for picking fistfights with the juniors, smoking in smoke-free zones, adding more tattoos to his face and arms, or willingly trashing places because he thinks he can, no one has been more subject to give you more grey hairs. He just doesn’t listen — he won’t listen! 

And the worst part is that he enjoyed making your life a living hell. God, he’s such a fucking bastard, not wanting to deal with outside of your academic life.

…Until you two see each other from across the living room where a huge party is held in one of the off-campus apartments, perplexed crimson eyes locked on with widened ones, too shocked to take a sip of your drink from your red solo cup. You immediately turned to the group before you, hoping the sea of kids and the bouncing bass could distort your image from his vision. 

Too late; the salmon-haired senior couldn’t hide the grin on his face as he slithers past people to get to where you are. Students move out of the way for him to move, the group you were hanging with gasps with wary stares, and Sukuna taps your bare shoulder. 

“Never figured the student government president would be here,” his voice was chilling as always. Yet you remain a neutral face when facing him. “Something tells me there isn’t apple juice in that solo cup.”

The group you were hanging out with instantly excused themselves to somewhere else in the apartment, leaving you alone with Sukuna. You rolled your eyes, “What is it, Ryōmen?” You feel disgusted as his red eyes scan your figure, taking in the off-shoulder, long-sleeved bodycon dress you were wearing. True, you don’t wear stuff like this all the time, but you can’t expect this bastard to have any amount of decency or subtlety. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, prez?” God, you hated him calling you that, knowing good and damn well what your name was ��� but, again, why would he bother; not respecting you enough to do something simple as that. “Isn’t this kind of thing what you’re against for and all?”

“Hmph, am I not allowed to have some fun at a party I was invited to?” You furrowed your brows and took an aggressive sip. “Besides, this is off-campus housing; the property owners are the ones who’ll have anyone’s asses if stuff breaks or cause disruption against the codes.” 

“Oh, so the uptight President is off duty this time? Hmm, ain’t that something,” he leans against the wall beside you with crossed arms. Your gaze was averted to the crowd bumping and grinding rather than acknowledging the delinquent examining you. “I figured you’d be somewhere pulling your panties to some poor bastard.”

“Watch your tone when talking to me, Ryōmen,” you finally send him a glare through your peripherals. It humored him, a devilish chortle you could hear even through the loud bass. “Lucky for you, I’m only here to have a good time with some friends before heading home to assignments. So, do me a favor and don’t start shit for me to take home and stress over.” 

He lifts a brow, “Is that so? Miss Prez came to let loose, huh.” You didn’t like how he said that — nor how he moved to lean closer to you. His cologne disrupts your nostrils. “Never thought you had that side of you.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me, Ryōmen,” you swing your cup around with a scoff. “And I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

And you thought you’d win this round as Sukuna doesn’t say anything to you for a few seconds. However, the man goes through his pocket to pull out his phone to pull up something. And when he finds it, he flashes the screen to your direction. “You mean things like these?” You turn to look at the device, and your eyes go wide with an agape mouth. What he was showing were photos — a whole lot — of you. 

“You know, I’m sure it must be hard being president of the student body; that’s why I don’t envy you,” one photo shown is of you smoking in the Honors Lounge with a few of your student government associates, an action undoubtedly prohibited within the facilities. “So, I can’t blame you when you decide to settle down and let yourself go for a minute,” he swipes his finger to pictures of you drinking liquor with some other students who smoke blunts and have weed plastered on the coffee table. “However, you really outta be careful with what you’re doing, Y/n; you got people who look up to you and expect so much from you.” Another picture shows you at some dark nightclub with a guy friend, shoving middle fingers and sticking tongues out at the camera. 

Your lips quiver with every swipe, and lips quiver, “Wh…Where did you get those…”

“Hmm? I can’t share that information. Heh, plus, I like to keep tabs on those who can get on my nerves,” he stuffs the phones back into his dark jean pocket. “But I can’t lie; the more I look at those pictures and compare them to the little president that nags too damn much, I can’t help but wonder what would happen if someone were to leak these out for the whole school to see. Which would drop quicker: your presidential scholarship and accolades or your reputation?”

“You fucking asshole…!”

You swiftly throw your cup at Sukuna, but the pink-haired man dodges easily and grabs your wrist — the poor guy behind him gets drenched with your drink. “Hey!” The guy grabs Sukuna’s shoulder and is immediately met with the infamous death glare. “…My fault, bro, don’t worry about it. I’ll go dry off,” the student says while backtracking away from those fearsome eyes. 

You’re trembling with vexed shakes; the hand on your wrist holds you tight with no sign to let go unless necessary. Otherwise, you know he’ll break it if you make one wrong move. “…What the hell do you want from me?“

Now Sukuna has you in the palm of his hand — his sinister grin growing as he leans closer to be inches away from your face. “My apartment is on the top floor; you have ten minutes to get your ass up there,” you don’t move a centimeter when he draws near your ear to whisper. “I’ll show you how to really get loose, Miss President.”

The words felt like sharp daggers to your throat, “You…devil.”

He snickers into your ear, “Pick your poison, and you’ll see just how much of a devil I can be.”

And with that, Sukuna straightens himself up and heads out, his frame disappearing deep into the crowd till you can’t see him anymore. Your heartbeat goes at a pace way too irregular to call ordinary, and your blood too cold as it has your skin suffer in shivers. 

This was a nightmare — an absolute, horrifying nightmare. There’s no way the guy that you hate with your very guts just blackmailed you! This was not how this night was supposed to go; now your whole reputation — what you’ve built with your own two hands — is being held in front of you and is dependent on going to this asshole’s apartment. Who the hell does he think he is!?

You didn’t want to go. You wouldn’t go! Especially under the premise of that fucker, playing with your life like some toy. Your thoughts were inner turmoil, challenging your morals and conscience on what to do. Your pride was trying to pull up a good fight, holding onto whatever dignity you have to validate not going up on the elevator and seeing Sukuna for what he’s about to do to you. They’re just pictures; people will think they’re edited or question if they’re valid!

However, the fact that you spent five minutes going back and forth with this suggests those were anything but pictures. He had ammunition to bring you down — to humble and look down on you — and have everyone do the same, no matter what you could say to justify yourself. So, swallowing your ego, you exit the party and walk the hallway down to the elevator. Every floor you ascended made you feel small, and when the doors opened for you to step out and you saw him leaning on his door waiting for you, your fate had been sealed. 

The same smirk he had at the party was plastered on his face. You were no longer in control of the situation; you are now in his domain — and you should follow his commands to keep up.

“Gahhh! Mmmph, Ryooo, stop—Eeek! Y’re hitting so ha—Ahhh!”

“What? You thought I was going to be easy with you? After all those times you’ve pestered me to no end? Hah, think again, prez.”

Being in the same space with Sukuna is something you never comprehended happening civilly in all your years of knowing him. Now, being laid on top of his knees as he sits on the edge of the bed is jarring in its own sentence. The skirt of your dress was pulled up, your ass and panties out for the cool air to caress. Not until Sukuna rips you off your underwear and starts giving your bare butt unforeseen strikes. The impact of his hand was so harsh that you gripped his jean-clad leg with a scream. 

He goes about this for a solid five minutes, giving your asscheeks slaps – and your cries have him chuckle and do some more. And you can’t squirm out of his hold, or else he’ll dent the skin of your butt with his fingertips, piercing into the tense muscle to inflict pain like no other. God, it hurt so bad, every smack taking your breath away. 

“Look at you,” he coos, rubbing his hand on the hot skin. The pain was so bad to the point of your eyes watering; simply hovering his Hand over you was enough to have you in shudders. “Whatever happened to the poised and resilient Y/n who’d always dare threaten me for my behavior? This person on me, screaming like a whore, can’t be the same Y/n.” 

You grit your teeth, turning over your shoulder to express your seething glare. “Who are you calling a whore, you fucking—Deeeii! Ohhh!” Sukuna sneaks a forefinger inside your wet cunt, not bothering to warn you. “Wai—Tahhh! Take it out, take it out right—Noooh!!”

“Oh, don’t even think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, slut,” you bite your lip as he moves his finger into your vagina with such merciless vigor. “And with how you’re crying like a bitch, you sound pretty whore-ish to me.”

Oh, go fuck yourself! You could have told him that — but you didn’t because he squeezes in his middle finger to insert inside your tight chasm, both digits now rummaging inside your vaginal walls and scraping them to the point of drooling babbles on your part. You couldn’t think of anything, not when he’s still throwing smacks on your ass with his free hand. You can’t even wipe the spit that comes down your lips because he distracts you with more jabs to your inner walls and pinches to the skin of your butt. Fuck, fuuuck!!

And it gets worse when you feel his thumb dance around your asshole. “N–No, stop it, Sukuna! That’s dirty, don’t—Mmnaahh!!” He slips it inside without care; the pain of his thumb forcing inside your puckered anus almost has you shut down.

“That’s the point, prez,” he bites his lip with a pestilent snicker. “Gonna make you so fucking dirty tonight, wanna ruin that perfect image of yours that you don’t recognize yourself. He scratches your butt, resulting in you clamping onto his digits with a grip that feeds his ego. “Mhmm, just like that, princess.”

How dare he play with your ass like a toy and have the nerve to call you that? Such a sick man; the hate you have for him boils your blood to no end. “Ahhh, stoop, too fast, please, go slo—Mmmph!?”

He shoves two fingers in your mouth to stifle your cries. “That’ll keep you from squealing, fucking pig.” And he continues to toy with your slit and anus, your whimpers muffled by his thick fingers.

“Take it all in, Y/n, every single fucking inch, ya hear?…Mmmm, yeah, deep in your throat like that.” 

This. Is. The. Worst! There’s absolutely no way you’re sucking Sukuna’s cock right now; this is the very last thing you’d want to be doing! He’s standing with his dark jeans and briefs on his thighs, his hand on the back of your head to make sure your mouth remains on his dick at all times. If you could, you would’ve chewed the damn thing off and made a run for it. 

But you came here for a reason, so you keep your disdain at bay and begrudgingly suck on Sukuna’s glans, having the salmon-haired man purr from above you. And it doesn’t help that he holds his phone to take pictures of you and said add more to his collection. God, he’s so disgusting…

“Fhhh, fuck, that feels good,” he groans at you taking his girth. Your lips down to the hilt, burrowing his length deep into the warm, tight tunnel of your throat. “Who woulda thought the strict, by-the-book Y/n would take in dick so well?” You narrow your eyes at him as you bob your face up and down, earning a hearty chuckle from the pleased man. “That face of yours, baby, so furious with me, huh.”

You try to pay him no mind, distracting yourself with the task at hand by licking one of his balls before sucking them. Your hands increase in speed when stroking him, having the man above unable to stop bucking his hips to your fist for more enviable friction. 

“Shit, yeah, yes,” he throws his head back in bliss, and you can tell he’s about finished while feeling his cock pulsate under your touch. “Bring your face here.”

He does it for you – his hand on your head for a reason – and forces you close to his cock before he jerks himself for release. And his come exudes with a force, landing right on your face. You fight every fiber of your being to move away, accepting his essence to paint your cheeks, nose, and lips. It was unbelievable how disgracious he was, just plain selfish and unapologetically nasty. 

You hear the phone snap, throwing another scowl at the pink-haired responsible. “Lookin’ like a real cumslut for me, prez.”

And the worst part of all finally comes around — the thing you dreaded once you stepped out of that party and into that elevator.

“—Fffaaahh! Hooohshiiit! This is crazy—Eeeee!”

“Fuckin’ shit, you’re tight as hell, woman…Khhh…! Tryin’ to milk me dry, huh, Y/n…”

Sukuna lies beneath you with his legs bent away, his arms wrapped underneath your legs, and pushing them to your chest from behind. His cock is entombed inside your leaking slit as he thrusts up to you with every second, and the sound of your ass smacking onto his thighs fills the space.

He has his hands behind your neck, demanding you to look at the union of your sexes, and your face couldn’t get any hotter than watching the obscenity. He’s been fucking you for more than ten minutes now, his cum inside you from the last round stains a white ‘o’ around the base of him, and the sticky substance so vulgar to look at it stretching with his push and pull motions. And the squelching – the goddamn squelching! – it only furthered the fog clouding your mind.

There was no point concealing your wails; your lips were forced open with every jab from Sukuna. Jesus, he was so fucking big — your poor cunt stretched to accommodate his intrusion. You clamp onto him more when he pulls, the barbell piercing his frenulum and scraping your walls from the descent and grazing your G-spot.

“Fuck, fuuuck, hsssh…!” It was hard to concentrate on anything outside of this, and you couldn’t tell if you were speaking adequately or prattling like some sex-crazed fool. You sigh with rolled eyes when he sends sporadic ruts out of nowhere, clenching onto his shaft with a tug. 

It has Sukuna groan hotly, his breath steaming your skin. “Holy fuck, you really love gripping my cock, don’t you, princess?”

“I–I can’t help it! You keep ’n hit—Haishhh!” Your eyes meet the ceiling at the jab of your A-spot, the pressure making you feel full. “You—hic—…Yo’re the one m’king me like thisss…”

“Is that right?” He takes slow thrusts to draw out your pleasure; your broken howls were music to his ears. “Sounds like the to be enjoying yourself.” You hurriedly shake your head no, and he throws a bitter pound to your hypersensitive chasm. “Brat, why the hell else are you milking me like this for, then?” 

“Becauseee, it feels….Mmmm,” No, you can’t say that. Don’t tell him what he wants to hear.

“Hmm? Feels what?” You can hear the smirk on his lips. You don’t say anything except muffled hums, so he probes you, “You want me to send out those pictures, huh? Show just how much of a terrible president you are, how you love to go dumb on my dick?”

Of course not! “Do—Don’t you dare…!”

“Then answer the question: how does it feel, hmm? Tell me, how do you feel being fucked by the guy you hate so much?”

Oh, damn you, Ryōmen Sukuna! It was now you shed a tear, your hands grabbing for his forearms for purchase. 

“—Fucking ‘ell, it feels good,” you said it, your last bit of dignity finally thrown for the man to shred apart. “Feels ‘oo good, you make me feel—Geheehh…so damn good…!”

Oh, that was more than enough for him. Sukuna’s sneer becomes broader, and his chuckles are felt from your back. “What a dirty bitch for me, princess…”

His hips go back to an unsteady fashion, propelling his dick to his base, and the brushes of his piercing massage your walls too precisely. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to come crashing down on you with a scream, the walls of your cunt contracting around Sukuna for the third time that night. Your nails dig into his arms, and drool leaves your pretty agape mouth as he allows you to ride out your climax.

Sukuna whistles at the sensation of you fluttering on his girth. “Phew, damn, that was a good fuck. You know how to keep up with me, woman; you’d make a great pet.”

You were sick of him, gulping to wet your dry throat. “Delete…the fucking…pictures.” Your empty threat only has him click his tongue with a scoff.

“Not so fast there, prez; the fun was just getting good.” Your heart sinks to the soles of your feet. “So, be a good brat and know your place is under me tonight.

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk imagines #anime smut

[pedge-page]

Cravings

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!reader

Summary: Pussy eating king frankie, who gets his aforementioned nickname when you tried to come up with ways to prevent him from relapsing back to coke.

Warnings: soooo much oral —pussy eating, cum eating, grinding, dry humping, cumming in pants, kissing, Frankie's mouth is everywhere, alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex, little dub con since Frankie doesn't ask if he can cum inside, overstimulation, free use esc situations

Notes: This is NOT the Frankie free-use series I mentioned before; I'm a bit delayed with writing it, so here's something else i had started as a drabble but then... did not stay a drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoy this fic!

18+ ONLY

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Rather than drowning himself in coke, Santi slyly suggest he drowns himself in pussy instead. The guys around the table laughed, but you kind of agreed and told him you'd help set him up on hookups. Frankie didn't want to go through the trouble of having to find a potentially different girl each night. Plus, his cravings were sporadic. He would need his fix in that moment whenever it came.

He remembered back when you had drunkenly admitted guys could hardly satisfy you because you had a high drive, usually cumming on your fingers at least 6 times a day before bed, often times more on lonely weekends. He was left speechless at the time, but now he couldn't get Santi's proposition mixed with that knowledge of you out of his head.

You tried to cook him meals instead or buy him hoards of candy, but the idea was stuck in his mind. You knew you'd be a convenient alternative, given you only lived less than 10 minutes away and was always around when he needed help. But you were afraid of crossing that line with one of your all time best friends.

Eventually, being around him so much—"on call" as the boys put it—left you susceptible to his sweet touches, ghosting lips against your ears, sporadic twitches and jittery hands, antsy fingers dancing along your hips. You considered the option heavily before finally caving: you were doing this to HELP him, as his friend. Just a little relief every so often when he absolutely needed it.

You came 9 times on his tongue the first time. It wasn't even that he was trying to make you cum, but the eagerness in the way he moved so fast, growling and moaning at the taste, his lips attached and never left your heat. His big nose just perfectly bumping your clit each time he pointed his tongue dove deep into your craving hole, curling up and hitting that soft spot inside you left you shaking and crying out his name, back arched and fingers clawing at his shoulders.

He was sated for almost 6 days (and you needed the ample recovery time because not even your fingers could make you cum so hard) before the craving hit again. Incessant knuckles pounded your doorstep. You had barely unlocked the door before he was shoving himself in and devouring your mouth with his. "I need another hit, carniño."

He didn't wait for a response, knocking you on your ass on the sofa and stripping your sweats and panties off before throwing one leg over his shoulder. Flattening his tongue, he licks a long strip along from your hole to your clit, obscenely guttural moans from the back of his throat filled your ears. He looked wild-eyed and crazy, as if starved for weeks and was finally given the sugar rush of the century.

You inevitably move in with him, claiming his spare bedroom, worried about how bad he gets when he goes anything longer than a few hours without you.

He makes you ride his face until you're suffocating him, and he still can't get enough. Your juices flood his mouth and nose and his eyes roll back as he loses air. You try to get off and apologies, but he's caged your thighs with his muscular arms, holding your pussy flat against his face as he devoured you more, ignoring your squirming pleas. He hums against your nub, the vibrations sending you into your own addictive high. You cum again, and again, and again, and soon you're tugging his hair, crying his name with fat tears down your cheek, leaning back and scratching at his chest to let off, but its useless. He's so lost in your cunt that you become light headed, barely holding on to the headboard as your lower body continues to spasm.

He only pulls off for a minute, squeezing his nostrils to force out your juices. He's so dazed, pupils blown wide, beard and mustache drenched in your slick, so pussy-drunk and in love that he wants to do it again. "Sweetest fucking cunt, I swear. Just wanna curl up and live inside here, querida."

You offer to suck him off but he gestures embarrassingly down, where you turn to see a dark splotch on the belt-line of his pants where the tip of his spent cock peaks out, dribbling little white drops onto his lower belly, having cum untouched just from eating you out.

It gets to the point where you lock yourself in the bathroom when you take a shower just to have 10 minutes of peace. Your pussy is so puffy, clit so swollen from his constant assault day and night that you have to calm down and remind yourself what good its doing for him. He hasn't touched the white powder in weeks.

He's wondered where you've gone when he sees the bathroom light illuminate under the door. He knocks a few times, then raps harsher with his fists, calling out your name. You tell him you just need a minute. The makeshift locks on the bathroom door of Frankie's apartment isn't designed to keep an ex militant out, and he just pushes it forward with enough force that it gives way and he let's himself in. You go to cover yourself when he pulls the shower curtains away, but the same needy expression on his face as he narrows in to the slit between your legs has you aching once again. It's Pavlovian, the way he stares, practically drooling, hands twitching by his side, sending signals to your cunt to start dripping for his appetite. He spins you around so your cheek is smothered against tile, ass out towards him, not caring about the water drenching his baseball cap, grey shirt and pants as he kneels on the shower floor and puts his face between your legs. He moans when his lips start sucking on your nub, tongue thrusting in and out of your hole. He keeps you in your spread position with his arms holding your waist, making their way to spread your ass for him to dive further in, knees between your heels. You reach one arm back, knocking his cap off as you card your fingers through his damp hair, gripping it when you cum and grind yourself back on his scruffy face.

He's otherwise so gentle, so soft spoken, but when he gets between your legs, something primal takes over and you can hardly recognize him.

Sometime in the evening while you were watching a movie, you see his knee bouncing next to you. You has snapped at him earlier and refused his hunger when he peppered kisses all over your neck, down your back, then tried to yank your pants down while you were cooking dinner for the two of you, nearly burning your arm on the stove from such force.

You hated that you had outright refused him for the first time, but the truthfully the swollenness between your legs needed rest before he wrecked you again. He's biting his lip so hard, stealing glances at you before rubbing his hair and shifting his cap back on.

You instead take your top off, having gotten comfortable enough to go without a bra when it was just the two of you. Frankie is a bit shocked, only used to seeing you strip your pants first before anything else.

You crawl over to him before sitting in his lap, thighs spread over his. He swallows the lump in his throat, unable to take his eyes off of your tits right in front of him. His legs are still bouncing in agitation, the movement making your breasts jiggle right in front of him. He groans, licking his lips, breathing heavily.

"She needs a break, Fish," you said quietly, your soft and small hands seeking his big and callous ones, pulling them up over your waist before letting them settle on your cups.

He doesn't hesitate or ask further, head leaning forward and lips immediately latching on to your nipple. He moans, eyes closed as he sucks around the areola, tongue swirling your pebble as he kneads them in his hands.

You're trying so hard not to grind down on his cock, instead sitting upright on your knees so you're not fully resting your damp panty-covered crotch against the tent in his pants. The position is more head level with your tits, but he doesn't like that. He grips your hips to bring you flush against him, gasping out when you instinctually start rocking your hips steadily against his clothed length.

He noticed how heavily your chest is flexing, glaring up at you to see your brows furrowed, face tilted towards the ceiling trying not to cum on him. He cups his hands against your cheeks and brings you in for a sweet kiss, his lips slotting perfectly against yours as his hands return to palming your breasts. He presses his forehead against yours so your eyes meet, goosebumps wracking your whole body at the lust behind his eyes, and something more you couldn't place. "So good to me, querida. Perfect lips"—he gently pecks your lips—"perfect tits"—then a generous kiss to each of your breasts—"my perfect girl." You could smell the scent of your pussy on his lips, as if they'd be stained there now. Kissing your lips, your throat, collarbone, down the valley of your breasts, and erect nipples, and all the way back up again, was enough to keep his mouth busy and his craving subsided. And it worked almost as well, the two of you cumming sticky and wet against one another in your underwear with heavy sighs and sated eyes; you had calmed him down enough to get him to remove his clothes and put on a fresh pair of boxers before tucking him to his own bed with your favorite blanket.

As you tip toed into the bathroom to prep for a bath, you stared at your naked reflection: how swollen, and red your breasts were, covered in raised bite marks the shape of Frankie's jaws. Among your new scars are the faded scratches and bruises of Frankie's fingertips on your waist, stomach and lower back from how incessantly he devours you while his face is buried in your sopping pussy, like he had to sink his claws into you so you wouldn't slip away as he feasted. You look like you were attacked by a passionate lion.

His sweet nothings every time he stared into your eyes was what really turned you on. You tell yourself that it was just the withdrawal symptoms talking. That he was basically just high on a new drug.

-

To you, it must have looked like Frankie's craving were only getting worse with how increasingly frequent his lips found themselves attached to your body. In truth, his desire for coke steadily grew less, and it wasn't the replacement of the powder that he was seeking from you but rather the insaitability of finally having you that grew stronger.

The rest of boys noticed the effects you're having on Frankie too. They see it when he meets them for a drink every other Saturday, the way he anxiously taps his foot under the table, glancing around like he's unsure what to do, where to go, because he can't sit still. It's the signs of his cravings kicking back in, and they're all worried at first. But it's not until you up show later and slide into the booth next to him that they notice: Frankie casually drapes his arm around your shoulders like he always did—that part was normal. But what was new is how they could visibly see Frankie's heart rate slow, the way he slumped against the bench and completely calmed down from just your presence.

They also couldn't help but notice the way his eyes raked you with a mix of lust, love, and obsession, his dark gaze never once leaving the sight of you the entire night. All the while you laughed and chatted with them about your week, oblivious to the change in demeanor of your friend from just a few months ago.

You assured the boys that you two weren't fucking—and it was true, you hadn't slept with him once. albeit a few blow jobs, it was exclusively just Frankie eating you out or kissing. You were very hopeful that his cravings were going to go away soon since its the longest he's been off coke. You were even talking to your old landlord to see if your old apartment a few blocks away still had openings since you'd be moving out of Frankie's place soon. Santi couldn't help but see Frankie's dejection, his arm sliding away from you as he excused himself to get more beer.

By the end of the night, Frankie was drunk out of his mind. Will suggested he slow down so he wouldn't pass out before he could walk home. It sounded like a good plan, until Francisco glanced over to the bar and saw you sitting there and smiling at a guy who was flirting with you. Fish took a giant gulp of his beer, downing the entire jug before slamming it on the table and striding out of the booth towards you. He overheard the guy asking if you had a ride home tonight.

"She comes home with me. Every. Night," he slurred, his sweaty palm skimming possessively over your jean-clad thigh and snaking between your legs, face coming so close to you that your noses slide against each other. Frankie's eyes bore into yours with so much desire, it bordered on range. You knew those were his craving eyes. The pungent smell of alcohol on his breath made you flinch as he tried to pull you in for a kiss. You quickly tell the confused guy that he's your roommate and you need to get him home immediately. You could barely finish excusing yourself from the stranger before Frankie was dragging you out of the bar. You managed to wave to the others, making a drinking gesture and pointing to Frankie before being yanked into the street.

He was stumbling all over the place, breath uneven as you hoisted him up to lean against you, eventually making it through his apartment entrance and turning the key to unlock his unit.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Frankie slammed the door close behind him and pinned you up against it, his hands roaming your body as his mouth desperately sought yours. "Craving," he mumbled against your open lips. "Need"—tongue forcing its way into your mouth, he nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it before releasing with a pop— "need you," he panted.

"I know, I know—Jesus Fish. I'm—gonna help—gonna take care of you—" you breathed, ashamed of how quickly you could feel your panties dampen. It never bothered him though, and only encouraged his sweet tooth more. You weren't nearly as drunk as him, but your few margaritas made you extremely susceptible, even welcoming, to his touch.

You hummed into his shoulder when his hard bulge rubbed purposefully against your covered core. He bit your earlobe as he fisted your low-neck shirt before pulling it down roughly, the fabric tearing away. You gasped, ready to scold him but he pressed his mouth on you again, teeth clashing, his hands slotting down your body to pinch, grope, scratch at any bit of skin he could get.

"So—so good t'me. Always taking—such good care of me, cariño."

His fingers dip into your ass and hoist you up so he's carrying you, your arms and legs wrapped securely around him as he boldered through his apartment, kicking his door open before tossing you on the bed, watching you bounce. You never break eye contact as you unbutton your jeans at the same time Frankie pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside to unfasten his belt and zipper.

Clambering over you to reseal your lips, you breath in his scent, hands exploring his tone arms, down his chest and muscle middle all the way to the little pooch of tummy hanging. His hands gripped your jeans and pulled them along with you down the length of the bed, bringing you to the edge, his grip pushing up on the back of your thighs so your knees are digging against your rib cage, pulsing pussy exposed at his mercy. "I fuckin' love this pussy, querida," he growled before burying his face between you folds for the thounsandth time. "So fuckin' wet for me," he mumbled against your thigh, nipping at the skin.

He ate you out with precision, eyes hungry watching you, determined to make you fall apart quickly. He wasn't doing it for his own taste, but the sheer satisfaction of watching you writhe for him, knowing your body inside out as the only one who could get you like this. He's languidly thrusting two fingers in and out. You didn't even need to be stretched: he'd practically been prepping you for months now. You're crying out into the air as you cum, hips bucking against his nose with your heels digging into his shoulder blades. Frankie pulls away, kissing your stomach and up your tits before making you taste yourself on his lips.

The feeling of his cock nudging your entrance make your once dazed eyes go wide and alert. He pauses, suddenly worried. He can't read your expression, time dragging out too long and it scares the fuck out of him that he's taking it too far, that you didn't agree to this.

He had wanted to tell you everything right then: how he dreams of you riding him, or when he fists his cock in the shower when you're at work to the thought of what your tight walls would feel like wrapped around him when first violates you, how he automatically gets aroused now when he just sees you or smells your laundry, or admitting how many times he's actually cum in his pants without you noticing when he is buried between your legs, dying to have you cum around his cock instead of his tongue.

It's not until you sense his hesitation that you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close, sharing the same breath of air, nodding as your calves hook over his ass and squeeze his hips, the tip of his flush cock slipping in to your wet heat.

You both sigh heavily into each other's mouth when he takes charge again and thrusts fully inside you. He scrunches his eyes closed, forehead dipping down to your breast bone to revel in the overwhelming feeling of the tight space inside you.

You warmly caress his hair to bring him back up to you, kissing him and whispering, lips trembling, "Don't—don't think about it. Just... just use me."

His heart sank: You probably just thought this was another hit for him.

He didn't want to think about the fact that you were everything he'd needed in that moment, the image of perfection beneath him beautifully laid out for his eyes, his touch, but not for his soul. He gritted his teeth, pulling out then slamming back in, jolting your whole body up the mattress. It was fast, rough, and not at all how he wanted your first time to be with him, but he couldn't control his urges. He was gasping loudly as he fucked you, your cunt gushing around his member, the obscene sound of slick and skin slapping skin echoing in his otherwise empty apartment.

He brought his thumb to rub messy circles on your clit, sending you into a spasm of praises and expletives, but the most satisfying sound was his name repeated over and over again.

He barely manages to pull out before jerking his cock only twice and creaming all over your folds and clit. Groaning in post orgasmic bliss, he watches you heaving and shaking, filthy pussy covered in his seed. Half of his mind is only working now as he slides back down to lap you clean with his mouth, his own saltiness filling his throat, fingers scissoring inside to get your juices flowing, obsessed with the sight in front of him: your back arched off the bed, heels digging into his lower back as his hands pinning your hips down flat so he can work his mouth over you. And then you're cumming again, so angelic on his tongue, your sweet moans going right to his dick, hardening once again as he ruts into the mattress. He nips your clit and sucks, reluctant to pull away as he lines up and splits you open. You scream out, and if it weren't for the way your barely-recovered battered walls kept sucking him back in, he'd be worried you're in pain. His hands hook under your lower back, lifting you off the bed as he plows into your squelching cunt over and over again.

Youre both covered in a thin layer of sweat, the pillows and comforter of his bed strewn haphazardly around the floor as he dominates you. The headboard slammed recklessly agains the wall, and neither of you cared about your neighbors trying to sleep at 1 in the morning. He ignores the oversensitivity of his cock and your clit, forcing you both into an unexpected climb of another orgasm like it was a primal need.

It was happening without warning; he should be asking for permission, but he knew you took the pill, and he's been dying to release inside you from the moment you first let him put his lips on you. You're cumming on his cock again, hips bucking and grinding against him without your clit being touched, and he was done for.

With a harsh cry, he climaxes again, his length flooding your womb with ribbons of white. His arm shoots in front of him, flat on the bed next to your ear to hold himself up so he didn't crash down on you as his hips jerked, pushing his seed deeper in to you.

He rested most of his weight on top of you, labored breaths combined into one. He kisses the top of your nose, whispering "thank you," unsticking your sweaty bodies as he rolls you two over to have you lying on top, your head next to his. He pats your hair over your ear, pebbling your forehead and eyelids in kisses. His cock twitched in your spent heat, cum leaking out and dripping down to his balls and on the bed.

"Glad I—could...help..." you mumbled, eyes already closed as you drifted into sleep.

His softening dick slipped from your pussy, warm hands wiping you with his shirt before settling you gently on a pillow. He watched the gentle rise and fall of your breaths, naked and fast alseep on his bed. He pulled his sheets higher to your shoulder, his heart beating faster at the way you snuggled further into his pillow.

Frankie stared at the ceiling for hours, hand on his forehead in anguish, wondering how the fuck he was supposed to tell you it wasn't cocaine he was craving last night.

- - - -

Part 2: Crash

Series masterlist

#pedro pascal smut #francisco morales #frankie morales smut #triple frontier smut #triple frontier #frankie morales #catfish morales #catfish morales smut #frankie catfish morales #frankie catfish morlaes smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #catfish morales x reader

[katiexpunk]

Sex On Fire, Part 1 | Pairing Firefighter!Joel Miller X Fem!Reader

Series Summary: You're a country girl in the big city, thanks to your generous aunt. You expected to have adventures your first year in New York, but what you didn't expect was for your hot, firefighter neighbor, Joel, to be part of them. Part 1 Summary: You move to New York, after a little coaxing from your aunt. You meet your new neighbor, Joel, and quickly learn he's a Captain with the NYFD and good with his hands. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word Count: ~6.7K Warnings: Sexual tension, sexual tension, sexual tension. This one is dripping in it. No age gap specified. No explicit smut (yet, there's uh...gonna be a lot in part 2), but a nice lead up to it in the end that will probably blue ball you. Groping. Alcohol. Hardcore flirting. Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones, and Kings of Leon song references. Uniform kink. Joel has a hard on for seeing reader in his shirt. Reader's mom has passed. Texas/small town vibes. New York City. There are no specific descriptors for reader, except that she has hair. Ya'll, these two are just down for each other so fucking bad it's not even funny. Authors Note: This one is for my darling moot @darkheartgatita. Pia, thanks for putting Firefighter!Joel into my brain. I hope you enjoy. As always, thank you to my Slutty, Smutty, Sister @sydneyinacoma who inspires me every day and shares her filthy thoughts on the reg. And to everyone who gives my little blog love -- I fucking love you all so much. Part 2, Fall and Winter, will drop next Saturday.

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

Part 2 | Part 3 Preview | Part 3

S P R I N G  Spring blooms, bringing with it a new beginning for you. Of all the places you’d thought you would be, New York was not one of them. 

Life back in Texas wasn't terrible, a bit dull sometimes, but not awful. 

Yet, in the mundane moments, your mind often drifted to daydreams – visions of swapping your Levi's for a sleek black dress and trading quiet farmland for the lively hum of city bars. You’d think of Samantha from Sex and the City sitting on your porch at sunset, drinking Bud Light, wishing your fairy godmother would appear and magically turn it into a dry Martini.

That was until three weeks ago, when your rich aunt, visiting from New York, decided to sprinkle a bit of magic into your life. 

“I’m gonna move to Italy for a while,” she casually said over family dinner as if she was just announcing that she was going to the store for milk. You should have been surprised, but she’s always been the kind to never stick around for too long. Single and child-free, she’s spent her adult life dancing to her free-spirited rhythm, bouncing around from one place to the next. Not because she had to, but because she could. You, on the other hand, were the total opposite.  After your mom passed away, leaving the cocoon of the familiar felt like too much. Despite your aunt's protests and encouragement to just go, you resisted, not wanting to leave behind your dad and the comfortable life you'd known. But if there's one thing you've learned about your aunt, it's that she's relentless – and yanking you out of your comfort zone was precisely what she wanted, and she had just the plan to do it. 

She handed you the keys to her Lower East Side apartment, turning your once silly little daydreams into a reality. “Sweetie, you need this – you’re meant for so much more, your dad will be fine. Please go,” she encouraged. 

Despite your initial reluctance, you caved, and before you knew it, you were on a plane bound for JFK. 

++++ You feel like a small fish in a big pond as you navigate the city. Trying to figure out the subway turns into a whole saga of you getting lost more than once. You eventually find the right borough, but not without a fair share of unhelpful people brushing you off along the way. Yep, you're definitely not in Texas anymore. 

While walking through the city, it hits you that a new pair of shoes is in order; something made clear to you by the little blister on the back of your heel that’s screaming at you. Despite the annoyance, you’re enjoying the walk to the apartment, your new home. The city's buzzing with life, and even the faint smell of urine in the air doesn't bother you. It's a wild, trippy feeling to be in the city, to feel like the main character of your own story. 

You grab your phone, itching to double-check the building your aunt texted and ensure you have the right address. Remembering her advice about the unassuming exterior but spectacular view, you get ready for the big reveal. The key affixed to a keychain with a little apple on it meets the lock, and as you turn it, the door swings open, revealing a spacious wooden staircase.

As you step inside, you notice there's a bit of mail scattered on the slightly dusty floor. You collect the envelopes and magazines with your aunt's name on them and neatly stack the other pieces for Joel Miller into a pile on the bottom step.

After climbing the – Jesus, really fucking narrow – stairs, you're faced with doors opposite each other. While a brief doubt nudges you to recheck the apartment number, your gut tells you that the door with the welcome mat showing lemons and a pot of fake flowers is the one — a stark difference from its neighbor with a simple grey mat and no decor. Trusting your instincts, you decide that the lively entrance is the one. 

As you step inside, you're greeted by a cozy space that, despite its age, radiates warmth and character. The walls are adorned with paintings that seem to tell stories of bygone eras, while rays of sunlight filter through the window, revealing glimpses of the bustling cityscape below. 

Though small, the apartment is meticulously decorated, each corner telling a tale of adventures and cultural escapades. Remnants of your aunt’s travels, collected with care, add a touch of global flair to the modest space. Posters from Broadway plays hang proudly on the walls, as do family pictures. It’s lived-in; the kind of lived-in that feels comfy and embraces you like a warm hug. 

You look at the frames on the wall and pause when you see one of your favorites – a photo of you as a little girl, smushed between your mom and your aunt, a cake three sizes bigger than your tiny head lit up with birthday candles in front of you. You can't help but trace the edges of the frame with your fingertips, connecting with the warmth radiating from your mother's beaming smile. Miss you, mom escapes your lips as your eyes linger on the photograph for a heartbeat longer before the rest of the room demands your attention.

In the compact kitchen, a handwritten note from your aunt beckons, strategically placed beside a bottle of wine on top of a stack of takeout menus. Her words resonate with warmth and encouragement. "Welcome to your new home! I am so proud of you for taking me up on my offer. Disregard the bedroom chaos—I started painting the walls but didn't quite finish before taking off. Feel free to pick up where I left off if the mood strikes. And if you ever need a hand with anything, Joel Miller across the way is a nice guy. I've already told him that you’ll be staying for a while, or who knows, maybe forever. Love you!" The paper carries the unmistakable fragrance of her perfume, and a smile graces your face after you finish reading it. 

Setting the heartfelt note aside, your attention shifts to the menu for Sang Garden, a vibrant pink post-it exclaiming, "Right down the street! Super yummy!" Hunger gnaws at your stomach; the last meal was a distant memory from this morning, and you're ravenous. Without hesitation, you dial the number on the menu, your choice a steadfast favorite: orange chicken. “10 minutes,” the older lady on the phone tells you, not bothering to say goodbye before hanging up. Huh, efficient, you think. 

As the aroma of anticipation fills the air, you finish unpacking your suitcase and weave through your new space until your food is ready. Only having to go down a flight of stairs and less than a block down the street to pick it up is a new feeling for you. If you wanted something like this at home you’d have to drive at least 20 minutes to pick it up. 

You finish the entirety of the meal within minutes curled up on the couch, Sex and the City on the T.V.. Your aunt was right, it’s good. Probably the best orange chicken you’ve ever had in your entire life; just the right amount of zest and sweetness. You can already tell you’ll be a regular. Everyone always talks about the pizza in New York, but nobody bothered to tell you about the Chinese. You can tell you’ll probably have a lot of moments like that, discovering new things for yourself instead of hearing about it from magazines or seeing the photos on Instagram. 

With your belly now full of the sticky goodness, you settle into bed for the night. You stare at the ceiling, paying no mind to the smile that’s been plastered on your face for the past three hours. You feel giddy, like a little girl seeing the stars for the first time. You’re doing it. You’re really doing it. 

The city is still thrumming to life, but the distant sound of sirens and honks eventually turns to white noise as you drift off to sleep. 

++++

The next morning, you rise with purpose; new life breathed into you. You brew a cup of coffee and decide to savor it on the fire escape, enjoying the not-yet-thick spring, and still slightly chilly, spring air. As the city stirs awake beneath you, you’re determined to craft an agenda for the day. With another few days to spare before your new job starts, your thoughts drift to the bedroom, where the abandoned paint cans await. 

It's been a while since you've had the chance to dive into something genuinely productive, or creative for that matter, and you decide that this is the perfect opportunity. Your aunt chose a deep, rich shade of green, one that harmonizes seamlessly with the space; not too dark, but not puke or pea green, either. It’s pretty. She always has had good taste. 

And while you like the color, it’s not particularly one you’d like to see splattered all over your clothing, having only brought what you could fit into a small suitcase. Your aunt must have something, you think. The woman has more clothes than a department store and there is no way she could have brought them all to Italy, although you don’t put it past her to try. 

You make your way to the guest bedroom and rummage through the dresser located there. The top drawer is full of nothing but scrapbooks, the middle drawer has only sweaters, but luck strikes in the bottom drawer, where you locate a handful of old shirts. 

You pull out a dark blue, oversized “New York Fire Department” cotton t-shirt; the front of it has an emblem, and the back says “Rescue 1 FDNY” in faded blocky white letters, obviously well-loved. This will do, you tell yourself, quickly exchanging your tiny crop top for the large shirt. It hangs over your body, the bottom nearly hitting your knees. Why your aunt has such a large shirt in her collection you’ll never know, but you wager it’s probably from one of her many “friends” over the years.  

++++

The sounds of Fleetwood Mac's "Rumours" fill the room, you stand in the center of the bedroom, paintbrush in hand, ready to transform the space. The nostalgic chords of Stevie Nicks' voice in Dreams infuse the air, blending with the scent of fresh paint as you dip the brush into the can, and begin. “Like a heartbeat drives you mad,” you sing, slightly off-key, but no one is around to listen and you don’t mind. “Thunder only happens when it’s rainingggggg,” you belt, using the paintbrush as a microphone. 

While most of the paint makes it on the walls, you have to admit that painting isn’t your strong suit and a fair amount of it has splashed back onto your face, shirt, and even your hair. You’re having fun, more fun than you’ve had in a while, even if you make a mess while doing it. Not like you’re gonna see anyone today anyway.

“Players only love you when they’re plaaaaaying…” doing your best Stevie twirl. 

More and more green covers the walls, but as you’re about to get started on the final white wall, you’re interrupted by a loud steady stream of knocks at your door. 

You hit pause on the music, and make your way to the door, unsure of who would possibly be knocking. You peer through the peephole to take a look, but you can only see the back of a man in a simple white shirt, his back turned to face away from the door. You undo the chain lock and swing the door open. 

As the man pivots to meet your gaze, his presence sweeps over you, an unexpected force that leaves you momentarily disarmed. He’s handsome in a way that unmoors you; a mass of a man with broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, and sculpted biceps that redefine your sense of composure. Whoa.

“Hi,” you murmur, your eyes conveying a blend of softness and curiosity, "Can I help you?"

The man looks at you, and you feel yourself heat under the attention of his gaze. His eyes gently caress your frame; lingering a little too long on the emblem sewn into the fabric, just above your breast. 

"Uh," he clears his throat, his hand rising to his face, fingers subtly grazing the beard hair on his cheek, as if grappling for words. "Yeah, well – no, uh," he stumbles, the words caught in a momentary struggle. "Hi, ‘m Joel Miller, I live across the way," he greets, angling his body to signal to the door directly across the foyer. “Oh right, my aunt told me about you you,” you say, introducing yourself, voice smooth like honey. “She mentioned you were a nice guy and to call you if I ever needed anything,” you say, taking up space in front of him by leaning into the door.  “Just stopping by to say hi, then? Or do you need a cup of sugar or something like that?” you ask with a playful tone. 

Suddenly, the last thing he wants to do is admit that there's something you could help him with—like turning down your music. He likes Fleetwood Mac as much as the next guy, but the last three days on shift have left him craving peace, not a soundtrack reverberating through the thin walls.

Plus, he wasn’t expecting you to be so damn attractive. 

And he definitely wasn’t expecting to be wearing his shirt when you answered the door. 

“Ha, no, don’t need any sugar,” he chuckles, “just thought I’d make myself known.” He pauses, eyes locked onto yours. You notice the subtle flecks of amber in his deep brown eyes and the furrow of his brow. He’s painfully handsome. Just as you’re about to say something, he breaks the silence first, “But I'll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doin’...you look busy,” he tilts his chin to the paint that’s splotched over your bare legs. You can tell he’s looking for the story behind the mess. 

His left hand leaves his pocket and he places it on the doorframe. He leans into it, and your eyes catch the firmness of his bicep flexing under the strain of his lean before meeting his face once more. 

“Cute shirt, by the way” he says, his voice low and even. 

“Oh thanks, you like it?” you ask, pulling the fabric out in a tent from the center, noticing the little splatters of paint as you do. “It’s my aunt’s, I just borrowed it while I finish up some painting.”

“Yeah, I have the same one,” he adds, “looks a helluva lot better on you than it does me, though,” a little laugh leaves his chest and his cheeks flush, a little embarrassed that he just said that. Fuck, it’s been so long since he’s tried to flirt with a woman. 

Your skin prickles with heat, and you’re suddenly very self-aware of what a wreck you must look like, but you decide to be bold anyway. “Maybe we’ll have to compare sometime,” you playfully retort.

“Yeah, maybe we will,” he responds, looking you up and down, hoping the meaning behind his words isn’t too obvious. 

“Well if ya ever need anything, ‘m just across the way,” he says, dropping his hand from the doorframe, hitting his thigh with a slight sound of a pat. “Nice to meet ya, Darlin’,” he says. You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your chest once more, your stiff nipples now peeking through the fabric. He turns on his heels and turns his back to walk back to his apartment. 

“Nice to meet you, Joel,” you purr. His head peers over his shoulder back at you, and the corners of his lips turn up in a little smirk. 

Oh god. 

You’re so fucked.

++++

Later that night, you text your aunt that you just met Joel Miller. You curse her for not telling you how incredibly hot he is.  You also tell her that you decided to finish the painting, sending a selfie of you in front of the freshly updated walls with the message. You also add that you borrowed one of her shirts and that you’ll do your best to get the paint out of it. 

Her response causes your breath to hitch in your throat, and your stomach swirls into a tight knot. 

“The walls look amazing! Oh and by the way, that’s not my shirt, it’s Joel’s. I must have forgotten to give it back to him; the shared laundry downstairs sometimes causes mix-ups. Be a doll and give it back to him, will ya? Oh and quarters for the machines are in the clay pot next to the door.” 

Fuck. Of course you would answer the door to your incredibly hot neighbor, covered in paint, in his shirt. You shake your head in embarrassment.

You look down at the shirt and notice just how much paint is all over it. You strip it from your body, bring it over to the sink, and begin to scrub the paint out of it with dish soap. As you watch the paint fade into the warm water, you notice the tag on the inside of the shirt and the rank inscribed in permanent marker on it. 

Your fingers prune in the water, but you eventually get all of the paint out of the fabric. Satisfied with your cleaning job, you hang it up to dry and scribble out a note. 

The following morning, on your way out to explore the city, you leave it neatly folded on Joel’s doorstep. You don’t bother to knock, you’re certain you might combust from embarrassment if you did. 

Shortly after, on his way to work, Joel opens the door and notices the shirt by his boot, a little envelope placed on top of it. 

“You could have told me it was your shirt, Captain Miller.” 

Joel smirks. The cat’s out of the bag on that little secret then. He places it inside and lets out a little sigh. The image of your perky nipples, exposed legs, and messy paint-riddled hair flashes in his brain. 

God, he wishes you would have kept it. 

S U M M E R

As spring transitions into summer, the city experiences a gradual warming trend. Cherry blossoms and tulips from spring slowly give way to vibrant green foliage. Parks become lively with people enjoying the pleasant weather, and outdoor events become more frequent. The temperature rises, and there's a noticeable shift towards a warmer atmosphere with longer days. 

It’s a shift you also feel in yourself, having found your niche, carving out your place in the ecosystem of the city. You’ve gradually adjusted, figured out how to successfully navigate the complexities of the subway system, and are starting to rely less and less on Google Maps to get around. You frequent a bodega around the corner from you, know where to find a decent bagel, and are a recognizable regular at Sang Garden. 

Your new job keeps you busy. It’s tough work being a bartender in the city, but it’s granted you more than one opportunity to meet people from all walks of life, people you’d never get the opportunity to meet back in your hometown. 

People like the gregarious and charismatic trader, who’s more than happy to make it clear he works in the financial district, even when nobody asks. People like the countless young professionals unwinding after a long day with their colleagues; some with sexual tension so obvious you can taste it. Designers. Architects. Engineers. Writers. Musicians. Actors. You don’t like them all, but you don’t have to, you’ll never see most of them more than once anyway. 

You quickly learn the art of making a good martini, one you think would make Samantha proud. It’s all so posh. So far from your usual. But the money is good, and without having to pay rent – a luxury you now realize; having almost fainted when your coworker told you how much he pays in rent – it allows you to pocket most of it. 

Your first few months in New York have been good, although a tad lonely. Making friends was never really a strong suit of yours, and you’re finding the city to be a particularly hard place to get to know people in any real way. Most of your free time is spent curled up with a good book or watching Friends for the millionth time, wishing Central Perk was a real place. 

You see Joel in passing now and then, the in-between times when he’s coming home from work, and you’re just leaving for yours. Sometimes you pass each other on the stairs, and you have to angle your bodies side-to-side just to fit on the narrow stairs as you navigate around one another. You sometimes have to collect your composure when you leave for work and notice the faint smell of his cologne still in the hallway, it smells so good it makes you dizzy. 

You find excuses to talk to him every now and then – a squeaky fire detector, to hand him his mail, or even for a stupid cup of sugar. Every time you find yourself knocking on his door, the butterflies congregate in masses as if preparing to migrate. You feel like a school girl with a crush for the first time, but as far as you can tell, Joel doesn’t feel the same, and you’re okay with that. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself. 

The exchanges are always short; little blips in the grand scene of time, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling like you might faint under the intensity of his scorching gaze. Which doesn’t help, considering it’s already sweltering outside. 

You severely underestimated how hot summer would be. Of course, you’re used to the oppressive Texas sun, but something about the way the buildings and concrete reflect the rays makes it feel like New York is at least 10x hotter. 

The temperature in your apartment isn’t much better than outside. The air hangs heavy inside as you lay on your mattress, clad in only a bra and underwear, on crisp white sheets, attempting to cool yourself with a damp towel on your forehead. You listen to the feeble hum of the wall crying out for help. 

As luck would have it, the overworked unit decides to give in to the heat. Beads of sweat form on your forehead as you attempt to fix it, but it’s pointless. You stare at the lifeless unit, realizing that the city’s relentless heat has claimed it as a victim. Time for a new one. 

Once the sun dips past the skyline, you venture out to your local hardware store to grab a new one. You wish you would have had some forethought to bring a cart or something, not thinking about the fact that you were going to have to carry the heavy unit eight city blocks. Coulda, shoulda, woulda, you think to yourself. Once back to your apartment, you balance the quirky box on your hip, holding it steady with one arm as you fumble to grab the key from your purse outside the entrance of the building. Your cheeks are warm, you’re drenched in sweat even at this hour, and your hair is starting to stick to the nape of your neck. You manage to grab it, but inadvertently drop it, your fingers clammy. 

“Shit,” you mutter, frustrated and hot. 

“Need some help there, Darlin’?” Joel asks, making his way up the stoop. You turn to face him and oh. 

Of all the times you’ve seen Joel, you’ve never seen him in uniform. The sight catches you off guard. His crisp, navy blue uniform emphasizes his broad shoulders and neatly tucked shirt, the shiny FDNY badge on his chest. He flashes a charming smile, revealing a hint of dimples, as he picks up your fallen key with ease. You’re not sure how he always manages to look so put together, a stark contrast to the way you always seem to look in front of him. 

"Rough day?" he asks, unlocking the door, and for a moment, you forget the oppressive heat, captivated by his charm. “Here, lemme take that for you,” he offers, and you kindly accept. You shift the box out of your arms into his, and your stomach swoops when you watch the way his biceps flex as he grabs the unit with ease. 

Grateful for the assistance, you offer a sheepish smile, “Yeah, you could say that” you reply, opening the door, holding it open for him. He begins to ascend the staircase ahead of you, giving you a full view of his ass in his uniform pants; it’s toned, and his thick thighs match. You walk behind him, trying to ignore the stickiness that’s beginning to pool in your underwear. You allow yourself to perv out for a moment, at least while his back is to you. He’s just helping you out, stop being weird.

Joel waits at the top of the steps for you to open your door. Once unlocked, you enter and he follows behind you. “Oh shit, it’s hotter than hell in here,” he says once inside, the irony is not lost on you that a literal man who fights fires for a living thinks it’s hotter than hell. He bends to place the box down near the front door and rises to full height, bringing both hands to his hips. You notice the little sheen of sweat that has now collected on his thick neck, fighting the impulse to lap up the perspiration. “You’re telling me, I’m rendering lard,” you say, letting your Southern roots shine through. You cringe a little at yourself, watering your accent down to not stick out as much, but you’re reminded of the age-old saying you can take the girl out of the country… 

You wipe the back of your hand on your forehead to push away the sweat that’s been collecting there all day and look at him. “Thanks for the help carrying it up,” you say, offering him a kind smile. 

“No problem at all, need some help installing it? These units can be tricky,” he asks, trying his best to ignore the fact that your white shirt has gone see-through from your sweat, allowing him a perfect view of your breasts. No bra again, he notes. He shifts his stance a little, trying to prevent his cock from hardening at the sight. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, a little unsure, but deep down you know you need the help. As much as you’d like to think of yourself as an independent and capable woman, you’ve never been one to be good with anything mechanical, and the heat has left your brain feeling like the static of a T.V. channel with no reception. 

“Course. I’m a servant to public safety. Can’t have you accidentally pushing it out the window and crushing a person below, it’d be a lot of paperwork” he chuckles and takes out a knife from his pocket to undo the tape on the box.  It’s an ordinary act, yet somehow you’re mesmerized by his dexterity and competency. 

Midway through the process, Joel pauses, feeling the heat, and glances at you with a lighthearted grin. “Mind if I take this off?” he asks, tugging at the collar of the uniform shirt. You nod, suddenly feeling warmer than before. “Sure, go ahead.” 

His large fingers fumble with the buttons on the shirt, eventually revealing a white tank top underneath. The fabric clings to him, highlighting his defined chest, and a little bit of belly. You practically drool at the sight, once again resisting an impulse to want to sink your flesh into the softness above his belt. 

He has an awful farmer's tan, but he wears it well; his forearms are a nice shade of golden and his shoulders are pale. You see from the lack of collar on the tank that he has a bare chest. He throws the uniform shirt onto a nearby chair and goes back to work installing the unit. You watch as he works to position it in the window, stealing glances at his glistening skin as he does. You think you’re being sly about it, but Joel can tell, he can feel your eyes heavy like bowling balls on him. 

“So, how long have you been a firefighter?” you ask.

“About 15 years,” he responds. “Sorta always knew I wanted to do it, I was a contractor for a while, but wasn’t my thing.”

“Oh no? You seem like you’re pretty good with your hands,” you reply, your words suggestive. 

“Never said I wasn’t, Darlin,’” he replies, shooting you a wink. 

He plugs the unit in, and the screen comes to life. He sets the temperature as low as it will go, and the fan on high; the unit is about to put in overtime to make the air tolerable again. 

“Well, that should do it,” straightening back up from his bent-over position, clapping his hands together as if to dust the task off. “Probably gonna take a while for it to cool down in here. You’re uh, more than welcome to hang out at mine for the time being. Don’t need you overheating on me,” trying to mask his excitement at you being in his space by carding his fingers through his salt and pepper curls. 

You glance at the unit, and you can tell he’s right. “Alright, why not,” you say, offering him a smile. “Just gonna use the restroom fast,” you say, looking for an excuse to make yourself at least somewhat presentable and confirm that you don’t smell like a sweaty subway car. 

Inspecting yourself in the harsh, exposing light of the bathroom, you grimace at your appearance. Not that you’d been expecting to look your best, but still. You pat the extra moisture off your skin with a clean towel, when you notice that nipples are straining against the fabric of your wet t-shirt, leaving nothing to the imagination. You briefly consider changing shirts, but the cheeky side of you decides to leave it be. You give yourself a quick smile and internal encouragement in the mirror and you step out of the bathroom. 

Joel waits in the foyer by the door for you, taking the opportunity to learn a little more about you, drinking in the details of your space for any glimmers of insight it might give him about your life. 

He’s been in the space before, but it’s different this time – updated. It still has many of the same things your aunt had put up, but you’ve added new additions to the walls; photos of you with friends, and family, and vinyl covers in frames. His eyes gravitate to a photo of you at your college graduation; your smile ear to ear, a bottle of champagne in your hands. You always seem happy. He likes that about you. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look for a photo of you with another guy, a hint that you might already be taken, but he’s relieved when he doesn’t find one. 

The bathroom door opens with a soft creak, and you stroll out, shooting him a casual but confident smile. As you do, you casually tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, giving off an easygoing vibe. It's a simple move, but there's a certain charm to it that doesn't go unnoticed by Joel.

“Ready?” you ask, and he clears his throat, trying to hide his pleasure that you opted not to change your still slightly transparent shirt. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, yanking on the handle, the door groans and opens with a loud creak. “Don’t wanna hit traffic.” Oh god, that’s a dad joke if you’ve ever heard one. You try to hide the stupid smile that graces your face, but Joel sees it, and matches it. Your shoulder brushes against his chest as you walk through the door, and Joel straightens in response, a little tingle shooting up his spine from the brief touch. Get a fucking grip, Miller, he thinks to himself, pulling the door closed behind him. 

++++

Once inside his apartment, you gasp. It’s not at all what you expected. 

If his front doorstep was any indication, you expected his apartment to be full of Ikea furniture, bare walls, and maybe a fake plant in the corner somewhere. You’re pleasantly surprised when you find that it’s the exact opposite; you feel like you’ve just wanted into some swanky bar. The air smells like palo santo, but above all, it’s cool. You let out a sigh of relief. 

“Can I get you a beer” he asks, and you nod your head in response. He walks into the kitchen, and you’re mesmerized by his space. It’s a similar layout to your apartment, but somehow it feels bigger, even a tad cozier, plus he has exposed brick, a detail you wish your apartment had. 

“Your apartment is amazing,” you tell him, spinning around to get a full 360 view of the space. You hear him yell something like thanks from the kitchen. 

You find your seat on the cognac-colored couch and run your hand up and down the texture of it. The leather is cool on your skin, and your body temperature slowly begins to return to normal.

Joel returns from the kitchen, and hands you a Bud Light. And for once, you don’t wish for it to turn into a martini. Now having spent a few months in the city, you’re starting to realize that you’re more of a bud girl than a cocktail girl, and that fairy godmothers are a tad overrated. 

You’re not sure when he did it, but your ear tunes to the classic sound of Beast of Burden by the Rolling Stones playing in the background at a low volume, adding a funk you adore to the moment. 

He finds a seat on the couch next to you and throws his arm behind you on the ledge. He crosses his legs over one another, and you squirm, not out of discomfort, but nerves. 

“I am impressed with your apartment, it’s well decorated,” you compliment him, bringing the bottle of beer to your lips. 

“Had a bit of help, ‘f I’m being honest,” he replies. Your stomach flips. 

“Oh?” you say, a bit breathless, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Of course, he would have a girlfriend. You see it plain as day now, the feminine touches built into the apartment, hanging on the walls in plain sight, taunting you with the obvious. He even has like ten live plants for fucks sake. Joel Miller is taken. 

“My daughter, Sarah,” he replies, bringing the beer to his mouth for another swig. You try not to make your sigh of relief too obvious. “Oh!” you squeak and turn your body to face him. You don’t know if you’ve scooted closer or if he did, but your thighs are now touching. 

“She’s studying interior design. Begged me this past year to let her fix up my apartment, and well…I didn’t have the heart ta say no,” he replies. “Said my apartment resembled a frat boys bachelor pad,” he lets out a gruff little chuckle and you smile at him. 

His arm drifts close to you, his hand nearly touching your shoulder. It’s not quite there, but you can feel the heat, the electricity, his fingertips shoot to your skin. So much for cooling down.

“Well, if you didn’t decorate the space, what’s your favorite part about it then?” you ask, taking another swig at the bottle. Joel stares at your lips as they latch around the glass, admiring how plush and warm they look. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wonder what they might look like around his cock.

“Ah, good question,” he says, bringing his hand to cover his crotch with the bottle, all while subtly trying to adjust himself from his previous thought. He’s surprised he even heard your question at all. “Probably the table over there,” he says, nodding his head back to signal to the dining room. 

“Made it myself,” he says, a bit of pride in his voice. 

You crane your neck to look, but can’t get a good view with how plush the cushions are. You slightly angle your body upwards, coming onto your knee on the couch to look, bringing your chest closer to Joel’s face.

“Well I’ll be damned, you really must be good with your hands,” you playfully tease, letting your body sink by his side once more, feeling the warmth he exudes. Your words cause his gaze to go dark. “Mhmm,” he murmurs, taking another sip of his beer, sure if he said any more he might regret it. 

You notice the music switches to Kings of Leon, a favorite tune of yours echoing through the air. “Oh shit, I love this song,” you exclaim, barely able to contain your excitement, much to Joel’s delight. 

“Yeaaaaaah, your sex is on fireeeee,” you belt, and you inadvertently tilt your beer bottle a little too far down in the process of your solo, and a splash of beer pours out onto Joel’s lap. The action abruptly causes you to stop. 

“Ah, I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely, setting the nearly empty bottle on the coffee table in front of you, noticing the box of tissues as you do.

“Don’t worry about it, Darlin’,” he says, voice mellow, placing his beer on the table, too.

You frantically grab a handful of tissues and bring them over to the wet spot pooling on Joel’s crotch. “Here, let me,” you say, dabbing at the liquid, the realization not fully hitting you that your hands are literally on his crotch until – oh.

Joel’s been walking the fine line of a stiff one all night, and your simple gesture throws him over the edge, the dabbing causing blood to rush to his cock. 

You continue to blot at the liquid and notice him stiffening underneath you. A heavy rush of arousal courses through you, and heats your core. Joel’s hand darts to grab your wrist, the size of it completely swallowing up your entirety of it, his fingers wrapped around it, and you’re certain he feels your pulse quicken under his touch.

You look up at him with big doe eyes, only to find his own pupils are blown open wide with lust, his jaw tense. His other hand finds the side of your face, and he holds you up to look at him. You both pause there, letting the tension of the moment swallow you whole. He looks at you like you're a juicy summer peach, ripe for the picking.

His grip on your wrist softens, and you flatten your hand to palm at his growing bulge. Joel lets out a deep groan in response to the full contact. “Shit darlin’,” he says, voice wrecked. His hand drifts to the column of your neck, and he begins to pull you up so you’re face-to-face with him. 

The anticipation builds, and just as your lips are about to meet, a sudden shrill sound shatters the moment – the fire alarm. 

“Fuck.” Joel groans.

TO BE CONTINUED - READ PART 2

Tagging moots and those who I think might like this: @endlessthxxghts @theoasisofthings @bastardmandennis @untamedheart81@lavema @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @dugiioh @nervoushottee @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings@josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @peachmy @survivingandenduring@darkheartgatita @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @dins-riduur-anthe @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro As always, feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list, or removed (even if we're moots, no hard feelings). Might transition to a notifs blog soon.xx

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedro pascal #new york #firefighter smut #pedro stories

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: angst..? cussing, age gap, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: enjoy and please let me know if you'd like a part two! i'm already writing it lol but i'd like to know anyways <3

here’s part two!

You’d always been good friends, taking to each other without much of a second thought after Oscar had introduced you two just in passing a few years ago—eight years ago, to be exact—at some party at his house.

New York, New York

September 4th, 2015

You were outside in the backyard, dressed far more casually than the occasion called for. It was a chilly night, and the music was blasting from inside the house.

You were tired from all the traveling, touring, and filming. You loved your job and were extremely grateful that things were working in your favor, but boy, did it leave you drained. You hadn't spent time with Oscar, or really any of your friends, in quite some time, so you thought a night out wouldn't hurt after working too much.

So there you were, enjoying the chill night air, when a familiar voice reached your ears.

“There you are!" Oscar said cheerfully, "I've been looking for you for like 20 minutes; I thought you left!" he continued, in a very dramatic manner, you must add.

You couldn't help but smile at his theatrics as you welcomed him with a hug. "Oh, I could never leave a party of yours without saying goodbye. You know I'm better than that." you speak softly, suddenly noticing another person behind him.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Pedro,” he says this as he turns to face Pedro. "He's a fan," Oscar says in a singsong manner.

Pedro is standing there with his cheeks flushed and a smile forming on his lips. Although part of you wanted to be cocky about it and torture him a little, you bit your tongue, not wanting to make this worse for him.

Of course you knew who Pedro was. And not because he was in two of the most famous TV shows at the moment; it was because Oscar and Sarah wouldn't shut up about him. In every conversation you had over the phone with either of them, Pedro's name always found a way to come up. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they could not hide their enthusiasm for him.

So to say you were interested in meeting him was an understatement. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Before you could properly introduce yourself, Oscar's name was called from inside the house. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it." he says, "Please be nice to each other!" he yells as he walks back inside. You shake your head in amusement.

"You are more beautiful in person," Pedro says in his very captivating, deep voice, catching you by surprise.

Now you are the one with the flushed cheeks.

“I thought you were shorter," you say back, daringly. Although it was an honest comment, it was also a way to deflect attention from the fact that he just called you beautiful.

Pedro laughs loudly, as if you had just told him the funniest joke ever.

"I am not trying to be mean or rude; I really thought you were like 5'3." you continued, putting your hands inside the pockets of your jacket.

"So you know who I am?" he asks, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yeah, I like to enjoy good television in my free time." you tell him, focusing on his face.

He was more beautiful in person, too. To your relief, he was dressed similarly to you. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, tucked into dark jeans that fit him in all the right places. His hair was a bit tousled, and his mustache looked like it had been recently groomed. He must be filming Narcos, you thought. You also noticed his kind brown eyes. He had a warmth and friendliness about him that was immediately apparent.

"Also, our friends don't seem to know how to shut up about you. You are quite the talk of the town lately."

Your words made him smile. He doesn’t say anything but narrows his eyes, and you can practically hear his thoughts clamoring around in his head. "Alright, back to me being short, " you rolled your eyes as he continued with his speech, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually 5'11." He takes a seat on one of the small couches that have been set up in the backyard, prompting you to follow suit and take a seat as well.

"Like I said, I didn't mean it in a bad wa—" he cuts you off before you finish your sentence. "Ah, don't worry about it. Plus, if you still think that's short, I'll make up for my height with my other great qualities."

You let out a small laugh, relieved that he didn't take offense to your remark. Again. You look at him and reply, "Oh, I can't wait to see these other great qualities."

The transition from acquaintances to close enough to hang out alone without friends was just as easy, and you quickly became an unlikely pair of sorts.

You did everything you could together. From having movie marathons whenever you both happened to be in the same city to visiting different coffee shops and ordering the same thing every time—you anything that involved caramel and him four shots of black coffee over ice—it felt as if you had known each other your whole lives.

You were inseparable, and it felt effortless, like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for so long finally fitting just right.

Given that you were in a serious, long-term relationship when you met, the tabloids didn't dig too much. All of the articles referred to you as friends, which saved you from having awkward conversations or even thinking too deeply about the whole thing.

There was also the age thing. Pedro was older than you, so everyone just assumed you'd never go there. Your boyfriend at the time never questioned your friendship with Pedro, either.

However, you now wish he had. It would've implied he was concerned, which you now know he wasn't. He was busy with other things. You don't exactly remember when things started to fall apart between the two of you. But you do remember how it felt when you found out he was cheating. It felt like a gut punch. The fact that the whole world also knew it didn't make it any better, either. You felt completely betrayed and exposed, not just by your boyfriend but by the whole world that seemed to be privy to your pain.

As any rational person would, you succumbed to work. If you were working, you wouldn't really have time to deal with all the viscerally painful emotions that have flooded your body ever since everything went to shit. You kept filming, and you kept making music. Endless hours spent at the piano provided you with incomparable peace and tranquility. Who knew a life-altering breakup was what you needed to write the best music of your career? At least something good had to come out of this disaster.

Of course your friends and family helped you navigate this process as well. However, one person stands out above the rest: Pedro.

It's like he made it his life mission to put you back together. He'd call just to check up on you, tell you random stuff about his day just to keep your mind off things, ask what book you were currently invested in, or simply say he missed you because months had passed and you couldn't see each other because of work.

"What time is it over there?" he asks, his voice was hoarse, as if he had just woken up.

"1:30 AM," you reply, glancing at your phone, "we're still shooting some stuff."

He groans into the phone, "I fucking hate it when filming drags on for too long."

"Yeah, tell me about it." you say this as you were stretching your back. You had been filming since the afternoon; it was currently past midnight, and production was still going. To say you were exhausted was an understatement. "Alright, I'll text you later. My break's sadly over."

"Yeah, sure. Good luck, princesa."

In other circumstances, you two happened to be in the same place at the same time. The parties were the best part of awards season. The entire purpose of the parties was to campaign for whatever projects were gaining traction, but for you, it meant spending time with friends you hadn't seen in a long time and having fun.

That explains why, four cosmos down, you were dancing and laughing in the middle of the dance floor with some of your friends. Or maybe it was five cosmos down. Truth be told, you stopped counting after the second one. You weren't the type to get wasted, but your goal for the night was to have fun, and alcohol definitely helped with that.

You start to get a little tired from all the dancing, so you head to the nearest couch. Sitting next to Sarah, she opens her arms to embrace you. "My little dirty dancer!" she says loudly, making everyone around you laugh. "Oh shut up, can't a girl have some harmless fun?" you say, a smirk on your face. You glance around the room at the grinning faces and shrug.

"It's karaoke time!" Jen, your friend and hostess for the evening, announced cheerfully, "Who wants to go first?"

"Oh, fuck me," Pedro groans, dragging his hand down his face. "I hate karaoke. I hate it. I don't want to sing karaoke, and I don’t want to listen to people sing karaoke."

He's sitting across from you with a beer in his hand and looking a little more drunk than you were. You chuckle as you watch him slump against the back of the chair during his karaoke rant.

This was no secret; after the first few weeks, when you began to hang out more frequently, he made sure to let you know this very important piece of information. That's why you took pleasure in doing it solely to irritate him.

"I will go first." You say this while looking him in the eyes. He rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing that you understand exactly why he's been so adamant about it.

"Why do you like to torture me, kid?"

"I can't help it; you're fun to mess with, Pedrito."

Even though he hated karaoke, you knew you were the only person he enjoyed listening to. You could tell by the way his eyes lit up whenever you hit the right note, the way he'd shake his head and chuckle when you made a mistake, and the smile that crept onto his face when you'd finished the song. Despite this, he would never admit to enjoying it.

You were busy listening to some of your friends talk about how you didn't completely butcher your rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" when hands landed on your waist from behind and you felt a hot breath on your neck. "That was terrible, mi amor."

Spinning around to face him as he straightens up, you spot his beautiful brown eyes. "When will you admit how much you enjoy my karaoke performances?" you try to pretend you're mad, but you can't help the corners of your mouth turning up in a smirk.

Pedro chuckles, his body vibrating against yours. He leans down, his lips barely brushing yours, his breath ghosting across your skin. "Never," he says, almost in a whisper.

Your body is buzzing from the proximity. No, it's the alcohol. Without a doubt, the alcohol. You're unbothered by the proximity. The same way you're unbothered by the way he's smiling down at you.

"You're insufferable," you say, keeping the conversation moving so you don't have time to spiral.

He brings his beer to his lips, smirking as he sips. "If by insufferable you mean utterly charming, then you are right."

Just like he made it his mission to put you back together after your life fell apart, sometimes it was your turn to put him back together, too. No matter how hard he tried to bottle up his feelings, you were always the one who could get through to him, able to make him smile or make him think with just a few simple words.

Pedro was no longer a mystery to you. He's a contradiction in motion. He withdraws into the distance that comes with fame, but he also wants to connect. Despite having a tendency to be open, he tends to hold a lot of himself back. He cares so much and yet he's also uncomfortable caring so much.

You were both in London for different reasons but were staying in the same hotel. One night, you decide to stop by his room before leaving for an event. You knock three times before he opens the door.

"Have you been crying?" you ask him, immediately concerned.

He is initially hesitant to respond, but eventually caves. "Well, yeah."

"What happened?"

"It's kind of pathetic, really."

"Then let's be pathetic together. Tell me." you respond as you push your way into the room.

"Prince died," he says, his voice hoarse from the crying.

"Pedro..." you say quietly, not really knowing what to say.

"I know, I know. It's stupid."

"Of course not." you quickly reply, "There's no shame in crying, I know how much you love him." you take a deep breath and approach him, offering him your hand. "C'mere, let's sit down."

You started lowering yourself to the floor, and he followed. "You don't have to do this...you look like you've probably got somewhere else to be."

"I've got nowhere else to be."

The two of you just sat there, not saying a word. You held him while he cried, his head on your shoulder as you ran your hand through his hair. If you could go and bring Prince back from the dead just so he wouldn't hurt like this, you would do it in a heartbeat. But you knew that was impossible, so all you could do was sit there and comfort him.

"You two should date."

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Sarah?"

"What!" she laughs. "You're basically dating already."

Since you hadn't seen each other in a while, Sarah had extended an invitation for you to have breakfast at her house. She had questioned you about your love life after discussing a number of other topics, and when you replied that you were still single, she made that absolutely ridiculous remark.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," she says, almost giggling, "that you two are doing the things that couples do, like going on dates and spending time together."

"We don't go on dates," you quickly reply, "and I don't like him like that."

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced, and asks, "Why?"

"Because..." you trail off, "Because he's Pedro... and I am me."  Even though you were aware that what you were saying made no sense, you refrained from going into detail.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

"There's nothing to see, Sarah."

It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment you first realized that occasionally, completely unprompted, your thoughts would turn to Pedro.

This was similar to how you two became friends without ever consciously choosing to do so. The mere thought of his loud, booming laugh and the way he beams at you when you crack a joke would make the corner of your mouth twitch into a small smile. Eventually, you understood that those thoughts of Pedro and the slight thrill they gave you were very different from friendship.

Yet you decided not to go there. You both enjoyed your friendship, and he never said or did anything to make you believe he felt otherwise. Or that was just a bunch of bullshit you came up with to not deal with it anyway.

You were friends, close friends, and you didn't want to jeopardize the best friendship you'd ever had by listening to that little voice in your head that occasionally whispered, "What if...?"

It wasn't until one night that everything changed. You're still unsure if it was for better or worse.

You were changing into far more comfortable clothes than you'd been wearing all day. It was finally Friday, something you were very grateful for since work had been nothing but tedious lately. You had the weekend off; it seemed like an eternity since you had been free for a couple of days.

As you slipped on your favorite and very worn-out t-shirt, your phone rang. "Ugh, what now?" you whined. You were suddenly regretting your words as you picked up the phone; his throaty voice filled your ears, and you felt instantly better. It was almost embarrassing.

"I heard you had a shitty week," he says, "I am coming over."

"How'd you know that?"

"The more important question here is why have you been in New York for days and didn't tell me? I'm actually hurt, love."  

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just been a little rough."

The guilt immediately washes over you. You knew that you should have called or even sent him a quick text, but your mind was only focused on getting through the week. It was like you were on autopilot.

"I will be there in 20 minutes." he replies, hanging up.

Without anything better to do, you decide to wash some dishes that have been sitting in the sink since last night while you wait for Pedro to arrive. You quickly finish that and then decide to pass the remaining time by reading a book you started a couple of weeks ago. You flip through the book's pages, trying to recall where you left off because the earmarked corner you'd marked seemed to have disappeared.

Before you can find the page, your cellphone screen lights up again, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye, and though it feels silly and childish, you can feel the way your heart leaps and your chest tightens just a fraction when you read the notification and see Pedro's name. "I'm here."

You rush to the door, flinging it open with a gust of energy, and you find him standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other holding a bag, a crooked smile on his lips. "I brought wine and takeout from that place you love down on 54th." It had been months since you'd last seen him, and it was like no time had passed at all. He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you take the bag, allowing your eyes to meet his with a smile. Fuck.

As you set everything on the kitchen counter, you both decide to eat right away. The warm, inviting scent of the food spread throughout the kitchen, and it was as if all your worries and tiredness had disappeared. The conversation flowed perfectly as you both devoured the delicious food, and you were grateful for the moment of peace.

After finishing your meal, he helps you collect everything and clean up the kitchen.

"You’ll get wrinkles if you keep working that hard, mama," he tells you as he throws something in the trash can, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't call me that," you giggle, a little tipsy from the wine. "It makes me feel—" you stop yourself before you finish the sentence. Fuck.

"It makes you feel what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Well, it makes you feel embarrassed, as if you have let your guard down and revealed too much of your innermost thoughts. And it gives you butterflies. But you don't tell him that. "Nothing," you say, "it's just funny."

You knew you didn't have it in you to keep your thoughts, body, and face under control, especially when he was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded, looking like he just stepped out of a movie. You were feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your thoughts were written all over your face, so you did what you do best: you changed the subject.

"Remember that one time we got high on edibles to go see The Incredibles 2?" you blurt, hoping he would forget what just came out of your mouth. He looked at you for a moment, as if he were considering your question, before bursting out in laughter.

"How could I forget?" he says. "It's one of our finest moments."

"Would you like to repeat the occasion?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time, baby."

You go to one of the kitchen drawers and pull out the box of cookies. "I can't believe you're offering me drugs." Pedro says in a dramatic tone.

"Oh shut up, do I need to remind you whose idea it was last time?" you roll your eyes, grabbing two cookies and throwing one at him.

"Should we honor last time and watch a movie?" he says as he takes a bite of the cookie.

To be entirely honest, you should have known that things were about to go off the rails the very moment the man at the other end of the couch, in that impossibly confident and seductive voice, asked you to come closer. "You're miles away from me, princesa."

If you had been wise, you would have politely declined. If you had any sense of self-preservation when it came to Pedro, you would have declined his offer and avoided thinking about him fucking you into this very couch. But you weren't wise, which is why your legs are thrown over his lap and his fingers are drawing circles in your thighs. Pedro’s gaze feels like a caress, and his voice is thick, "You look like you're thinking too hard."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"I said you looked like you were thinking too hard." he replies, "What's running through that pretty head of yours?"

Your teeth are tugging at your bottom lip in a way that Pedro seems to find distracting because he nearly slips up and breaks the carefully maintained eye contact, his gaze darting down just a fraction of an inch. You don't know where the courage came from, but you lean in on your elbows, lifting yourself from the laying position you were in, closing the gap even further until it's impossibly small.

You can tell you know what you've been doing when you pause with only a breath of space between your mouth and his, worrying at your lip with the intention of getting him to break first, like you’re challenging him to decide where this goes next. "What do you think I'm thinking about?" you finally reply, your gaze not wavering for a second. Pedro's hesitation is just a second before his mouth parts, leaning in just enough to touch your forehead and close his eyes.

"I think you're thinking about all the wrong things we could be doing right now instead of watching this boring movie."

"I think you're correct."

His lips curl into a smile, pulling away only slightly to look you in the eye, his voice barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"  

And that's when it happens. You lean in, your lips slamming into his so quickly that your thumb gets caught in the middle. He nips at it, biting down a little harder than he wanted to, but you don't mind and simply move it out of the way, sliding it away from his mouth and resting it across his cheekbone. You straddle his lap, and as his hands find their way to your waist and his lips move ever so hungrily against yours, you feel a fire inside.

Everything is happening so fast, and the room is spinning around you. You're not sure if you're feeling this way because of the drugs or because of Pedro. You can feel the pressure of his hands against your skin and a warmth radiating through you; all you know is that you don't want it to end. As you begin to grind against his hard on, he moves his hands to your ass and grips it tightly.

"You like that, hm?" he rasps, between kisses. You moan in agreement, and one of his free hands travels up your body to the nape of your neck and squeezes it tightly. You gasp at the sensation and move your body to match his movements, pushing yourself closer against him.

It's rough and messy. You're both desperate, as if you've been waiting your entire lives to do this. Pedro's hands covered your entire body, and his mouth kissed your neck and mouth roughly, as if trying to make up for the years of anticipation.

"Fuck, P," you moan; he wasn't giving you even a second to breathe.

"Tell me what you need, princesa."

"I need you to touch me."

"Your wish is my command."

Pedro moved quickly, his fingers caressing and teasing your body as he worshipped you with each touch until he finally reached your shorts.

He slides his hand down your panties and groans. "I haven't even touched you properly, and you're already wet, baby." His fingers pressed down softly as he moved around your clit, rubbing and massaging it until you felt yourself close to the edge. He manages to get his free hand under your shirt, and he massages your breasts, pinching your nipples softly as you moan in pleasure.

"Are you gonna come for me, princesa, hm?"

"Y-yeah..." you gasp, not even ashamed of how quickly your orgasm was approaching, "I can't... hold it..."

He took that as a sign to go faster and harder, and as he continued to draw circles on your clit, a wave of pleasure swept through your body, culminating in a moan that signaled your impending climax.

"Fuck!" you screamed as you came suddenly, body trembling and hips bucking once more. Pedro let out a groan at the sight and sounds you were making. You're both gasping for air, one of his hands on one side of your face, your foreheads touching.

And that's when it happens. Instant regret.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

What have you done?

reblog or like if you enjoyed it!

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #my writing

[juyeonszn]

BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU’RE INVITED!

PAIRING tbz x f!reader

GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒minimal angst ﹒crack

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mature language, mentions of alcohol, sexual content, more warnings per individual fic!

SUMMARY have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? if so, then these fics are just for you! join us as we take a glimpse into the tau beta zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE LETS GAURRRRR i’m so excited to announce this collab with loml reese both as a cute fun little idea we had and in celebration of her 1 year tumblr anniversary! we also realized it happened to be the same day as tbz day LOL so that’s kinda crazy 😭 my boyz have been here for 6 years wow 💔 anyways i hope all of u love these as much as we do! and always, don’t forget to rb if u enjoyed!! send an ask if u’d like to be tagged in these <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of school work for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

“FRIENDLY” COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O’CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 1/1, PT. 2 1/3)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

© juyeonszn & itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#deoboyznet #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz x reader #tbz smut #lee sangyeon x reader #lee sangyeon smut #jacob bae x reader #jacob bae smut #kim younghoon x reader #kim younghoon smut #lee hyunjae x reader #lee hyunjae smut #lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon smut #kevin moon x reader #kevin moon smut #choi chanhee x reader #choi chanhee smut #ji changmin x reader #ji changmin smut #ju haknyeon x reader #ju haknyeon smut #kim sunwoo x reader #kim sunwoo smut #eric sohn x reader #eric sohn smut #juyeonszn #blackoutorbackout🍻

[azrielbrainrot]

Loose Lips and Big Feelings

Band Member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Azriel gets a little drunk and you take care of him.

Warnings: Alcohol?

Word Count: 2320

Notes: This is a little short but very cute. As always, this is part of the band au but you can read it as a standalone. Also I decided the boys make early Arctic Monkeys type music because imagining Azriel singing 505 sounds delicious. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

The bar was already packed with drunk people by the time you arrived. It was so full you were surprised they even let you in, you had to take a deep breath, readying yourself before diving into the sea of people. Finding Azriel and his friends was going to be harder than you thought, you might have to text him again. The situation was somewhat nostalgic to the first time you set foot in this bar, the same night you met Azriel. It's amazing how much things have changed in a matter of months.

Someone was doing a cover of a song you recognized on stage, it almost made you want to hum along and enjoy it for a bit, but you needed to get to Azriel's table first. You couldn't really see the woman singing on stage aside from her striking ginger hair and blue dress, but her voice was truly amazing. You could definitely understand why everyone was so excited to see her. You'd have to ask Azriel if he knew her, maybe try to see one of her shows properly.

You hadn't actually planned on coming tonight, Azriel and the boys weren't even playing and you'd rather sleep away the week. In fact, an hour ago you had been sitting at your desk hoping to get enough progress on an essay so you could completely free up your Sunday to rest and lay in bed all day. But, when a mildly intoxicated Azriel texted you, asking you to meet up with him at the bar, you couldn't resist the offer.

It's not often he asks you outright to meet him, always so conscious of your hectic schedule and workload, even your recent aversion to social outings. So you couldn't really deny him the one time he actually did. You were also a bit curious to see what had him so excited, his happiness was extremely contagious, and admittedly a bit curious to see what he's like when he's drunk, if your intuition had been right then he was close to wasted when he sent you those texts littered with typos.

He had told you that they were sitting at the table by the big red poster, you were pretty sure you knew which one he meant, but unfortunately it was close to the stage which means it would be difficult to get to it while the performance was happening. You were caught between excuse me’s and apologies when you finally caught sight of familiar broad shoulders and luscious tied back hair.

Even when they're not on stage, they're hard to miss. Cassian is at least a head taller than the crowd, so even when he's sitting down you can always count on finding him. He's the first one to notice you as well, greeting you with a shout of your name, somehow audible over the music, and a big grin, as you keep trying to gently push your way through the crowd to get to them.

You find the three of them tucked into the sofas by the table Azriel told you about. Apparently being one of the performing bands gave you access to the best seats in the bar, you always got stuck with the regular chairs. As you get closer to the table you notice Morrigan and another girl you haven't met before were also present.

“You came,” Morrigan yelled excitedly as soon as you got up to the table. It seems they're all drinking tonight, the table is full of grins and flushed cheeks.

“I did,” you chuckle at the overenthusiastic greetings from everyone at the table. A familiar scarred hand reaches out for yours immediately, tugging on it so you would sit down next to him. It's not missed on you the eyebrows the gesture raises, you've learned that he's not always forthcoming with letting people touch or hold his hands so you're sure they didn't really expect him to do it so easily. They probably didn't know Azriel told you everything either.

The sofas were small so it was a tight fit as you sat down right next to him, having no other option but let your leg comfortably rest on his, the feeling of his rough jeans on your bare skin making you giddy for some reason. His arm comes around your waist straight away so his hand settles on the side of your thigh, pulling you even closer into him.

The gesture makes you look up at him, his face a lot closer than you expected, you could feel his breath hit your skin and if you moved even an inch closer your nose would bump against his. The smile he gives you almost takes your breath away as you let out a soft greeting, “Hi.” You're surprised he even heard you, if you weren't so close to each other he wouldn't have been able to over the music, but he throws the same word back at you, in the same whispered tone you used, as his smile widens, eyes not making any effort to leave yours.

“So this is Azriel's friend,” the girl you haven't met before says, with a tone that suggests she's heard a lot about you. The thought of Azriel or any of the boys telling anyone about you has your heart skipping a beat. Her voice also cuts through the spell you and Azriel seemed to be locked in, finally breaking eye contact with him so you can answer her. But, as you look back to the table, you become more than aware that everyone just witnessed your little moment and the smirks on their faces make it hard to play it off.

“This is Amren. She's our manager,” Rhysand explains before you have to ask, a shit eating grin growing on his face as he takes in the flushed state of yours.

“Nice to meet you,” you try to keep your voice leveled but even to your ears it sounds breathless. You swallow softly and try to move the conversation along as Azriel starts rubbing small circles over your skirt, “You didn't tell me why you're celebrating.”

“Rita just told us she's doubling our performances at the bar,” Azriel explains, a little slur noticeable in his voice.

“Really?” You turn back to him as he nods again with a big grin on his face. He looked really excited to share the news with you.

“She's giving us a raise too,” Cass adds, and then looks back at his mostly empty cup and then at your empty hand, “We need to get you a drink.” You stop him before he can get up. “I think I'll be the responsible one tonight and stay sober.” The disappointed reactions around the table make you laugh but also accept that you'd be the babysitter tonight, they were all bordering on wasted already.

As the night went on, everyone only got progressively drunker. It seems like since they can't usually drink too much when they have to perform, they took the opportunity that everyone was here to party as much as they could. Even Azriel, who you never really saw drinking, was talking and laughing like you've never really seen him. He's more of a quiet guy most of the time, preferring to listen rather than entertain. It was nice to see him let loose a little.

The bar was getting quieter since the performance had ended a while ago and the big majority of the attendees started filtering out shortly after. The only people that were still around were ones that were as drunk as your present company. You didn't really mind being sober though, Cassian had brought you some sort of juice so you had something to sip on, and as loud as they were, they were easy drunks to deal with.

Amren had left right after the performance ended with a warning not to stay up too late since they had practice tomorrow. You got the sense she wasn't too much of a crowded bar person but she seemed nice enough. After that everyone else seemed to leave one by one, you tried to keep track of them, not wanting them to end up in trouble as drunk as they were, but as you saw Morrigan making out with a pretty girl with long black hair on the dancefloor your worry subsided.

This also left you alone with Azriel, who has been a lot more talkative and touchy than he usually is. At this exact moment, he was telling you a story, that you lost track of about halfway in, and holding one of your hands in between his, as he played with your fingers, twisting and turning the rings you were wearing. He has also not made any move to sit away from you even though you were the only remaining people at the table, your leg really didn't need to be thrown over his. Azriel was a clingy drunk and your cheeks hurt from smiling at the realization.

You were pondering on how to stop him so you could take him home. It was getting really late and you've already gotten almost unreadable texts from everyone saying they left. He had also told you he had work today so he has to be exhausted. But you didn't have the heart as you watched him excitedly continue on with his story.

At some point, he notices you weren't really following along and just stops, tilting his head to the side slightly. Your smile only widens at the sight. “What?”

“You're cute when you're drunk,” you admit.

“I think you're cute all the time,” he retorts without missing a beat, making your face heat up.

You always had a hard time telling yourself to keep your feelings for him platonic, but between the boyish smile, the flirtatious comments and the lingering touches, it was getting close to impossible to achieve today. “And flirty,” you struggle out.

“Only with you.” Cauldron. You really needed to get him to sober up and take him home.

You get up to do just that and within ten minutes, you're out of the bar and waiting for an uber by the same empty parking lot you usually find yourself in when you come out. He's also a pretty obedient drunk it seems. All you had to do was grab his hand and he looked like he was ready to follow you anywhere your heart desired. You were so glad you chose not to drink because your heart was definitely giving you ideas and your brain was the only thing stopping you.

Azriel was still holding onto your hand and you honestly had no intention of letting go of him. You couldn't really take your eyes off him. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushed, the low lights of the bar hasn't let you really take in the sight. Some of his hair was sticking to his forehead and that same boyish smile hasn't left his face all night. No one should be allowed to look this good when they're drunk.

“Remember when we met here?” His words were starting to sound a bit clearer, maybe the cold air was helping him sober up a little or he was just getting tired. You think he told you he had work today and it was already late.

“Of course. It only happened a few months ago.”

“Feels like I've known you my whole life,” he says as he looks down at your linked hands, running his thumb softly over your skin.

“We didn't meet here though,” your voice seems to bring him out of his thoughts, his eyes finding yours, “You gave me back my keys when we were still inside.”

His smile turned a little shy at that. “I'm not sure that counts. I was running late and barely said anything,” he says rubbing the back of his neck, “I was beating myself up over it the whole show.”

“I…” you hesitate for a moment, unsure if he'll remember anything come morning. unsure if you'd want him to, “I was having a really bad day when we met, didn't even really want to come out, but I'm really glad I did, even though I got a massive headache out of it. If I hadn't come I wouldn't have met you. And I can't really imagine my life without you now.”

You tighten your hold on his hand and use it to pull him a little closer to you, close enough that you have to crane your neck back to be able to keep looking up into his eyes. “I think you came into my life at the perfect time, Azriel,” you smile up at him.

The emotion that crosses his face is so overbearing it's impossible to miss or confuse for anything else than adoration and… something more, something you've been trying to ignore for far too long. Gods, you really wish he was sober.

He raises his hand to cup your cheek softly, rubbing his thumb over your warm skin. “I think so too, princess,” he whispers, looking at you like he can't believe you're real. You've noticed the nickname only comes out when it's just the two of you and at times like this, when it seems he doesn't even realize he's said it, like he's been holding himself back from doing it regularly.

You could have stayed here, looking up at his beautiful hazel eyes all night, but it doesn't take long for a black car to come to a stop a few feet away from you, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts. You almost forgot you were still outside the bar, still needed to take this big drunk bat home. Taking a step back, you tug on his hand once again, so he can follow you to the car. “Come on, Azzie. We need to get you home.”

taglist: @bookishbroadwaybish @sad-anxious-muffin @mika-no-sekai-blog @starwholistenanddreamsanswered @secretlyhers @evergreenlark @vermillionwinter @anuttellaa @lilah-asteria @tinymarklee @lupinswolfsbanes @therealmoonstone

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel fluff

[samandcolby-ownme]

This was originally going to be just a Sam one shot, but then i decided to make it a Sam and Colby one shot. I felt like Sam's cover was too good to change, so enjoy the buy one get one free deal lol.

Summary: Reader drives herself insane trying to think of this mystery man she cannot stop thinking about and completely caught off guard when there's two of them.

Warnings: SMUT18+, vampire!Sam, demon!colby, compulsion and mind reading from both Sam and Colby, mentions of blood and blood drinking, strong language, mentions of alcohol, reading feeling like they're going insane, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, fingering, oral (m&f rec), threesome w/ dp, dirty and cute pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, filth

Word count: 10.3k | NOT edited

Not a request

Bold italics are Sam and Colby speaking in readers head.Regular italics are scenes they create in her head & reader being compelled at times.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Have you ever tried moving on from something that hasn't necessarily happened, but no matter how hard you tried, you just can't?

Your mind, constantly replaying stuff in your dreams, random times throughout the day.

Hitting you when you least expect it?

Then, when you finally think you've gotten over it, gotten rid of the haunting thoughts, it comes back, stronger than it was before?

That was you. Right now.

You had this feeling of anxiety, feeling like something was going to happen. It's happened multiple times a day, even causing you to wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes gasping for air.

But, you can never remember your dreams and nothing ever happens.

You could never describe the feeling.

Your friends would ask if you're okay because you looked 'tired' or you said no to doing something you always have said yes to.

They knew something was up, and so did you, but you just didn't know what was causing you to feel like this so it was always 'I didn't sleep well last night' or some other lame excuse that they could see right through.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Your friend, Cami asks, "You've been, not sleeping well, for the last week or so." She tilts her head, "What's really going on?"

You take a deep breath, "I honestly.." you pause, leaning forward to set your coffee mug down on the coffee table, "If I tell you, you have to promise not to call me crazy."

She nods, leaning back against the couch, "Okay."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, "So besides me not sleeping well, I'll get to that in a sec, but it started last week, after we came home from Tara's party."

"Did someone h-"

You cut her off, "No. no. It's not that."

She sighs, "Oh fuck, okay good." She motions, "Continue. Sorry."

You bat the air, "When I came home I felt like I was forgetting something, but I had everything I took with. I also felt.. I don't know, almost guilty for going and having a good time? Like, almost like I shouldn't have gone? I'd don't know."

She furrows her brows, "That doesn't make any senses. I mean, I just.." she stops, "it sounds like you're feeling emotions you'd feel when you're with someone and you did something you know they don't like."

You shrug, "I mean, yeah. It kind of does feel that way, but at the same time if I really think about it, it still doesn't make sense. I mean, maybe I think about it way too much, but-"

She cuts you off, "Are you talking to anyone? Maybe someone who is a potential boyfriend and you felt bad for going out?"

You look up at her, "That's where it gets crazy."

She gives you a weird look, "Huh?"

"I feel like- okay. You promised not to call me crazy, so just.. hear me out." You stare at her and she nods and you continue trying to explain, "I feel like.. I already belong to someone."

She makes a face and you hold your hand up, "I know. I know. I just, I can't. I can't explain it really. I mean, I keep seeing this person in my dreams and it almost feels like they're who I'm-"

You shake your head, "That sounds absolutely fucking insane. I take back what I said, you can call me crazy."  

You laugh, slightly embarrassed at what you just said.

This is the first time that you've actually talked about it out loud, and it sounds a lot crazier than you originally had thought.

"You're into reading books, right?" Cami asks and you nod, "Yeah, I'm actually reading one right now."

"What's it about?" She brings her legs up, moving the blanket to cover up. You purse your lips, "It's a darker romance book, so it's basically about a guy who comes at the most random times but he has a big secret and all that."

"What's he described as? Like what does he look like?" She brings her mug to her face and you shrug, "Um. I mean, like a normal looking guy. Slightly tall-ish. Blue eyes. At first he had brown hair, then he bleaches it to blonde, what does-"

"Who's the guy you see in your dreams?"

You stare at her, "Oh shit."

She chuckles, "I don't know about you, and now when I say this, I speak from experience because I'm sure we've all have done it, but it sounds like you're experiencing fictophilia."

"What the hell is that?" You laugh slightly at the last word she said, "fictophilia?"

She nods, "Yeah, it's where people, real people like us, fall in love with fictional characters in a book."

"Can it be as strong as taking over how you feel?" You ask, tilting your head, "Because when I tell you, I could have puked from feeling guilty that night, I was-" you hold up your thump and pointed, an inch from each other, "-This close."

She shakes her head, "No, I don't think it can cause that. I think you just drank a little, too much." She smirks, "Those back to back shots definitely had something to do with it."

You sigh, closing your eyes as you nod, "Yeah, yeah no. You're probably right. I'm just definitely over thinking about it."

"And the not getting sleep will definitely play a part in that. You need to take a nap. A real nap." She smirks, "and stop being delusional."

You roll your eyes, smirking as you nod, "Yeah, yeah. I know. But these fictional men, Cami. They'll getcha."

She nods as she stands up, "No I know. I watched a movie the other day and thought about the one character for three days straight."

"See. My point exactly." She laugh as you walk her over to the door. She turns, "I don't think you're crazy. Fictional characters happen to us all."

She leans in for a hug, "But if it gets to the point to where you tell me you're dating someone who isn't real, I'm funny farming your ass."

You laugh, leaning back as you look at her, "I won't put up a fight."

You close the door after she walks out, turning around to look at your empty apartment. You flick the lock before you walk over to the couch, sitting down to switch on the tv.

You put on the show you were watching and you can't help but think about your conversation with Cami.

It felt like so much more than what you told her.

It felt too real, but you really didn't want her to think you were losing it. That you were crazy.

But you felt it.

After multiple days of trying to figure out who the guy in your dreams is and not having any clue whatsoever is maddening.

Constantly telling yourself, I'm going crazy, each time you try hard to remember his face and about lose it because you can't.

You have a feeling that he wasn't just the guy in the book.

He was so much more than that, to you, in your head at least.

But, little did you know, that he was a creature who had such a pretty face, a dark, dark soul - along with his friend.

You shake your head, laying down and getting comfortable on the couch so you can try and take a well needed nap.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You reach over the counter, smiling at the barista, "Thank you." She nods, moving on to hand out the next coffee.

You walk away, heading towards the door. You go to push it open but stumble out when someone on the outside opens it before you.

"Oh, shit." The guy lays an arm in front of you, stopping your stumble. You stand up straight, looking up at the blonde.

He smiles slightly, "Are you okay? I'm sorry. I didn't see you coming out."

You nod, laughing slightly, "Y-yeah. Yeah I'm okay. Thank you for opening the door for me." You smile at him and he shrugs, "Call it fate."

A loud thump causes you to jump awake. You sit up, slowly turning to look back over the couch. You blink a few times, trying to get your vision used to the darkness of your apartment.

You call out slight groggy, "Hello?"

No answer.

Your phone ringing causes you to jump and you let out a sigh as you look at it. You debated on not answering, mainly because you seen the movies.

You know how it goes.

But it was cami, so you answer, "Hello?"

"Hey, a bunch of us are going out tonight. Wanna join?" She asks, "We're going to bar hop." You bite your lip, quickly turning around when you feel a presence off to your left, "Uh, yeah. Yeah."

"You'll come?" She asks, excitement seeping from her words, "Great. We can all just meet up in the parking lot of your place and we can walk to Bar Eight."

"That's fine with me. I need a shower, I just woke up from a nap." You stretch your arm above your head, "you can come over whenever. I'll be here."

"I have to finish getting ready, too but I'll be over within the hour."

"Okay." You nod to yourself, "See ya." You pull the phone away from your ear and stand up. You walk over to the lamp, switching it on and from the corner of your eye, you can see a figure disappear.

"Oh fucking hell." You rub your eyes and sigh. You mentally tell yourself that it's the sleep deprivation or that you just need to distract yourself.

Maybe having people stay over after a night out will help.

You walk to the bathroom, switching the shower on and it quickly fills with steam. You undress, stepping in and sighing as the hot water washes over your body.

It feels like hands slid over your shoulders and you zone out.

You're walking down the street with Cami, having a small conversation. You're oblivious to the people walking towards you on the left side of the side walk.

Someone runs into your shoulder, knocking your purse off. It falls to the ground and some of your things spill out.

As you bend down, what you assume, is the guy who bumped into you, bends down to help you.

"Here. Let me help."

You look up, tucking hair behind your one ear as your eyes meet a guy with dark hair and blue eyes, "Oh, um. Thank you."

He nods, handing you the strap of your bag, "No need, I should watch where I'm going more often."

You laugh slightly, "Yeah, that probably wouldn't be a bad idea." He stands up and holds his hand out. You felt oddly trusting of him, so you take his hand to stand up.

"I'm Colby." He smiles and you nod, "I'm y/n."

You turn around quickly, wiping the water from your face as you only remember the hands on your shoulders, "what the fuck!"

You pull the shower curtain back, peaking out as if that was the smartest thing to do, "Go away."

Nothing in response.

You lean back into the shower and fix the curtain before doing your routine. As you're rising the conditioner out of your hair, you feel like there's eyes on you.

Like someone is watching.

You finish up, quicker than you thought, and step out.

You tilt your head at the neatly folded towel on the corner of the counter and stare at it, "Did I do that?"

You think hard but can't remember.

You grab it, snapping it open so you can wrap up your hair and put the other one around your body. You open the bathroom door, and nothing else seems out of ordinary as you step out.

You turn, walking into your room and going to your closet. You shift through the hangers, finding a cute top and a pair of ripped jeans.

You toss the towel down, quickly getting dressed before taking your hair down.

A very faint, she's so pretty, causes you to snap your head towards the door, "Cami?" You slowly scrunch your hair in the towel and shake your head, it's just the tv.

After a while, there's a knock on your door and you get up to go open it, "Hey guys. Come in." You smile as Cami and your other friends walk in, greeting you with smiles.

"I just need to grab my bag then I'm ready." You walk into your room, grabbing your purse and turning to walk out when you suddenly stop.

You don't know why you stop, but you just do.

Your mind goes blank for a second and then suddenly you're walking back out to your friends like nothing just happened, "Okay. I'm ready."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"So do you come here often?"

You try not to roll your eyes at the cringey, overused pickup line, "I mean.. kind of?" You laugh slightly and sip your drink, "I only live a few minutes away."

Why would you say that? You don't know him.

Your brows furrow, "That was weird."

"What was weird?" The guy still standing infront of you asks, making you realize that you now just thought out loud, "Um, nothing. Nothing sorry. Continue."

"No." He laughs, "I like weird shit, tell me."

You sigh, smirking slightly, "Do you ever.. how do I say this." He shrugs with a smile, "Just say it."

"Do you ever feel like there's someone in your head but it's not you?" The words roll off your tongue and you instantly regret it, "Wait. No. That sounds awful."

He shakes his head, "No I know exactly what you mean."

No he doesn't.

You close your eyes, "Almost like it's someone trying to talk to you, but it's just.." you laugh, "Confusing. Weird. I don't know."

The guy nods, "I'm so glad someone else thinks the same as me."

You smile and that feeling hits again. Like you shouldn't be there. Like you're about to be sick, which can't be from the alcohol, you've only had three so far and they weren't your usual double shots.

"If you'll excuse me I need to g-" you walk away, leaving your drink at the bar. As you're walking towards the bathroom, someone steps back from the bar, too quickly for you to dodge them.

You run right into them and sigh, "Excuse you."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

You look up and a blonde guy is standing there. Something about him causes your curiosity to spike, "No.. it's fine. I was just-" you shake your head, "I'm sorry, is this is weird, but do I know you?"

He shrugs, "My name's Sam."

"Sam. Sam. Sam." You repeat to yourself a few times quietly, "No, sorry. I don't think I know a Sam."

"Hmm. Well maybe we can call it fate that you just happened to run into me like you did." He smirks and for some reason, his words cause you to straight up your posture, "first off, you weren't paying attention."

You smirk and tilt your head, "Second off, I swear we've had a conversation before. I just-"

"Can't think of it right now? That happens to me all the freaking time." He chuckles as he sips his drink, "Are you drinking?"

"I mean, I was. I left mine back there with a guy, I was on my way to the bathroom."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, are you with someone?" Sam asks and you shake your head, wanting to say yes because it really feels like it, but in reality, you're not.

"No, no. My friend just left me there and he appeared and yeah. Nothing serious, I don't even know his name."

Why are you defending yourself to someone you don't know, you think, "I'm y/n. I guess I should have told you that when you told me yours."

He smiles, "Pretty name, y/n." He motions to the bar, "Can I buy you a new one?" You smile, "I think I'd like that a lot, Sam."

You step up to the bar with him and Sam flags down the one bartender, "Whatever she wants. It can go on my tab, Golbach."

As you look up at him, you get this odd feeling of déjà vu.

"What?" He asks with a smirk and you shake your head, "You just.. remind me of someone I can't really remember."

"What?" He laughs, "Sorry, I don't mean to laugh I just-"

"No, no please laugh. I'm so awkward." You cover your face with one hand and he shakes his head, "I'm sorry." He moves your hand from your face, "I think you're beautiful."

You feel your cheeks heat up and he bites his lower lip, "Can I ask you a question?"

You nod, "Yes."

He leans in, eyes focusing onto yours, "You will answer yes to my question and not question anything else. Can you follow me to the bathroom so I can have a taste of you?"

You smile, "Yes."

"That was easy." He downs the rest of his drink and slides his hand down into yours, "Follow me, princess."

You leave your drink, mind only focusing on one thing right now and you absolutely were not questioning it.

He leads you to the back, pushing the door to the bathroom open and lets you walk in first. He follows behind you, shutting the door and locking it.

He stares at you for a few seconds, the only thing he's focused on right now is listening to your blood flow through your veins.

"You're going to taste so fucking good." He moves in front of you within a second, hands on your hips which guide you back to sit you on the sink's edge.

His eyes focus on yours again, "Don't make a sound."

All you do is nod, moving your eyes from him to the wall behind him as he dips his head down to press his lips to the side of your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed as he gently sucks a spot into your neck, tongue moving over your skin before lifting his head ever so slightly.

His grip tightens on your waist as his fangs emerge, eager to be sunk into your delicate skin.

"Ready?" Sam whispers and you nod silently. He smirks and your eyes go wide, hands sliding up and gripping the collar of his shirt as his teeth sink into your skin.

His groan is muffled by your neck and his hands pull you in closer to him.

Your hand lays on the back of his head, mouth parted in completely silence as your eyes flutter closed.

The feelings you get is pain mixed with the upmost euphoric pleasure.

As you open your eyes, you see a man leaning up against the wall, watching. You can't tell who he is, as your vision is kind of hazy.

Sam lifts his head a little, "Go away Colby."

The guy, who you presume as Colby now, chuckles, "Come on, who says you can have all the fun?" Sam stands up, licking his now red lips. He lifts a finger, wiping away the blood drop that's rolling down his chin from the corner of his mouth.

"You can have your fun later. This was my idea, so I get first dibs, remember?" Sam glances back at him and he walks up next to him, eyes on you, "She is so fucking beautiful."

"Ain't she?" Sam grips your chin, "You can talk now, but you're still not questioning anything."

You clear your throat, swallowing to relieve it from the dryness and Colby sighs, "Clean her blood up, Sam."

"Why?" Sam teases, "Smells good doesn't it?"

Colby shakes his head, "You know I don't have control like you do." Sam sighs, rolling his eyes as he wipes the blood from your neck with his thumb, "Scaredy cat."

He smears some of his blood on the open wounds, getting them to heal faster so he can cover his tracks before he brings his thumb to his lips.

You watch as he licks the red liquid from his skin, "Mm." He leans back slightly before leaning back in, his voice going quieter, "So fucking good."

He presses his lips to yours and the metallic taste of your own blood washes over your tongue.

"Alright. You gotta get her back to her friends, they're ready to go to another bar." Colby moves back, leaning against the wall and Sam nods, "Do you have any questions for me, sweetheart?"

You smile slightly, reaching out to grab his shirt with your hands, "You're coming with me."

He raises a brow, "Is that a demand?"

"Only if you want it to be." You bite your lip, staring up at him as you continue to smile at him. He sighs, "I'll find you, babe. I promise."

You nod, sliding down from the sink, "You better." As you go to walk towards the door, Colby clears his throat, "Sam."

Sam sighs, "Shit, right." Sam quickly moves between you and the door, "I promise I'll undo all of this later, but for right now.." he cups your cheeks with his hands, looking into your eyes, "Forget about what happened and what you saw. You're going to tell your friends that you used the bathroom and only remember me as Sam Golbach. A regular guy from the bar down the street."

Within a blink of an eye, they're both gone and you're left standing alone in the bathroom, "Guess I'm done here."

You walk out and your friends are standing in a group by the door, "There she is. We thought you left." Cami says reaching out to grab your hand.

"No, I was just using the bathroom." You smile, "Are we going to another bar?"

Cami nods, "We're going to go hang out at Electric Avenue." You groan, "Oh my god, I love that place."

She laughs, "Then what are we waiting for?" She wraps her arm around yours and as you leave Bar Eight, you can't help but feel like you're forgetting something.

Something that happened, but you can't quite put your finger on it. That sick feeling returns, but this time it comes with heartache.

Even though you're with your friends, you feel extra lonely right now. In this moment you just want to go home, curl up in bed and cry because you're missing something so bad right now, but if anyone were to ask, you can't give them an answer that sounds sane enough for them to not laugh or think you're not crazy.

Because let's face it, the fact that you're obsessing over someone or something that you have zero knowledge about, is pretty insane.

"ID's please." The bouncer says as you walk up. You dig into your purse and pull out your wallet, slipping your id from its holder.

He checks it over, handing it back to you to move onto Cami. You wait for her by the door and when she walks through, you link your arm with hers, pretending that you're not ready to run home.

"Shots. Please!" She yells over the music and you sigh, "I'll do one, maybe two."

"We'll see." She giggles as she pulls you with her to the bar and rests her arms on the tall counter.

"Well hello ladies." The bartender walks up, "I'm Blake, anything you need I'll be happy to serve it to you."

Cami giggles, "Thank you, Blake. I think.. to start off, we'll do-" she pauses for a second, "Six teq-"

"No." You say quickly and she sighs, "Fine. Six vodka shots."

Blake smirks, "You got it." He winks at you before walking away and Cami leans in, "He is so hot." You shrug, "He's alright."

"Alright? Are we seeing the same guy? Y/n. He's into you!" She nudges your side with her elbow, "Get his number."

If he, as so little as it may seem, gets your number, I will snap his neck in front of everyone.

"No." You snap at Cami, "I'm not giving him my number. And you aren't either."

She scoffs, "Is this about the little crush you have on that character in your book because if so-"

"Cami." You roll your eyes, "no it's not about that okay." She turns towards you, leaning against the bar, "Then what's it about? Hmm."

You sigh and right as you're about to give her some bullshit answer, a guy comes up beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, "It's about me."

You look up and your mood instantly switches, "Sam! There you are."

"Here I am." He smiles as he looks down at you, "I told ya I'd meet you here."

Cami shakes her head, "Wait." She points to Sam, "Who is this and when did you meet him?"

"Cami, this is Sam Golbach. A regular guy from the bar down the street." The words seem scripted to you, but you didn't really pay attention to that.

You felt safe. Complete. Almost like this is the meaning to your obsessing and empty fantasies.

"Why didn't you tell me? I thought you were talking to that other guy?" Cami tilts her head and you scoff, "You make it sound like I'm a whore, Cami."

She laughs, "Oh god, no. No, I didn't mean it-"

"It's fine." You laugh, "He knows about the other guy I was talking to. It just.. didn't work out."

Blake comes back and delivers the six shots on the tray. His eyes move to Sam, staying on him as he speaks, "Six vodka shots."

He walks away and Sam can't help but laugh, "I don't think he likes me."

"Well maybe it's because he was eyeing up your girl before you showed up." Cami grabs a shot and looks around for the others.

She waves them down, motioning for them to come over and they do. Singing along and dancing mildly to the music that's bumping through the club.

"Heyyy. Who's this?" Your other friend asks pointing to Sam. He leans forward, "I'm Sam."

"Sam. Sam. Sam." She laughs, clearly reaching her alcohol limit, and fast, "You gonna stick around?"

Sam nods, "I mean, yeah. I planned on it. At least until one of us-" he nods towards you, "- is ready to leave."

Your friend laughs, "No, no. I meant sticking around as in dating my girl here." Sam's brows raise and he nods, "I mean, yeah. Yeah. I plan on it, I mean. That's if she wants me to."

Your arm tightens around his waist and he smiles, "I think that's a yes." You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. As you're standing there, waiting for the shots to be distributed, you spot another oddly familiar face.

"Who's that guy over there?" You ask pointing across the bar. Sam leans down, "Which one, sweetheart?" You lean over slightly, "The guy next to the girl in the pink top."

"Oh that's Colby." Sam turns his head to look into your eyes, "You recognize him from back at the bar, he's a good friend of mine." Sam looks at you and you nod, "Oh okay. Yeah that makes sense. Maybe I do remember him."

Sam smiles and kisses your temple. He closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, remembering what your blood tasted like on his tongue.

His hand grips your hip tight, loosening as he takes a shot glass from Cami, "Thank you."

You take yours and wait for Cami to tap hers against the bar. Everyone follows, tapping each glass against the wood before knocking them back.

Everyone cheers, pulling each other onto the dance floor. Sam takes your hand into his, pull you with him before spinning you around to press his chest against your back.

His hands slide down, gripping your waist as you move to the beat of the song. Your head rests back onto his shoulder and he rests his cheek against yours.

Your arm slides up, wrapping around his neck and you spin around to face him, your other arm moving up to interlock your hands behind his head.

"You're so beautiful." Sam says which causes you to smile. He brushes hair from your neck, subtly inspecting the now healed bite mark. He lick his lips, tilting his head as his eyes meet yours again.

"Does your friend need a dancing partner? I can send Cami over to talk to him?" You tilt your head and Sam chuckles, "Nah, I think he'll be alright."

"Girlfriend?" You ask and Sam shakes his head, "No."

"Oh, is he gay? My friend Curtis ca-."

Sam laughs, "No, no. He's not. He just.." he brushes hair from your face, "He has his eye on someone very special already."

"Good for him." You smile, pulling Sam closer. Sam nods, "Yeah, it really will be good for him." He leans in, lips connecting with yours and its sparks.

Bright sparks, hell. Those are fireworks.

"I don't want to leave you." You admit, "Sorry if that w-"

"I don't want to leave you, either." Sam cuts you off, lips connecting right back with yours. You lay your hand on the back of his back, sliding the other one down his chest and pushing away from him, "They're all coming back to my place, so I hope that doesn't change anything."

Sam shakes his head, "doesn't change a thing, baby."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You giggle slightly to yourself as you dig for your keys, "I hope I grabbed them."

"I'm sure they're in there." Sam says giving you a smile. Cami pushes between the two of you, "Do you have them?"

Sam glances at her and back to you, "She's looking for them."

You look up at her, "Can you move your head, you're blocking the light." You try not to laugh but fail, causing her to laugh which spreads throughout everyone else.

Sam shakes his head and you pull out your keys, jingling them as you look back, "Found them."

They all cheer and you unlock the door, pushing it open before you drag Sam in with you.

You set your bag and keys on the counter before turning to face Sam, "Do you need a drink or anything?"

He licks his lips, brushing hair from your neck, "I do, but I'll get it then."

"I can get it fo-"

He cuts you off, "I'm fine, sweetheart." He smiles, "Come on, let's go sit." He takes your hand into yours and pulls you towards the couch.

You sit on his lap, looking back at Cami and your other friends who are raiding your fridge. She gives you a look and nods towards your room.

She walks over stopping at the door way, "Y/n, can you come help me unzip my dress."

You look back at her, "Oh yeah." You get up, sliding your hand along Sam's shoulders as you walk around the couch.

Cami pulls you into your room and shuts the door, her voice is quiet, "Don't you think.. Sam is.." she trails off and you tilt your head, "Sam is? What, Cami?"

She waves her hands in a circle, "I don't know, he seems a bit.. controlling."

You laugh slightly, "What do you mean?"

"The way he just pulled you over to the couch, I mean you were just trying to offer him a drink." She shrugs, "I don't know, it just.. you just met him, we just met him, and he's already back at your place?"

"I don't understand what you're saying? You do this all the time, cami." You cross your arms, "Do you want me to kick him out?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all, y/n. I'm just saying that I get a really weird vibe from him, he just.. he seems cold." She shrugs, sighing as she turns around, "Can you unzip me quick, though please?"

You roll your eyes, reaching up to quickly unzip the dress, "I know you're just trying to look out for me, but something about him just feels.. right."

She turns around, leaning down to grab her bag, "ultimately it's your choice at the end of the day, but I'm just saying be careful. I just didn't like the way he drug you over to the couch."

"I think you're being a little dramatic." You laugh, "Now change, and come out so we can watch a movie."

You walk over to your door, opening it to walk back over to the couch. Sam greets you with open arms as you sit back down on his lap, "Everything okay?"

You nod, "Yeah, her zipper was just stuck in some loose string from her dress."

You didn't have to lie, Sam already heard everything.

"Dress okay?" He asks and you nod. He plants a kiss to your cheek, "Good."

Cami walks back out, coming over to sit next to you, "So, what movie are we watching?"

"Something funny. Oh!" Cami snaps, "Why don't we watch Vampires Suck? Have you seen it?"

"Isn't that the movie that's based off of Twilight? Doesn't actually suck?" One of your friends say, and Cami nods with a smirk as she leans forward to grab the remote, "Yes, it is, and it's supposed to suck on purpose. That's the whole point."

Sam chuckles shaking his head, the thought of watching a bad vampire movie was so cliche to him.

Cami turns his head, leaning out to look at him, "Is that alright with you?"

He looks at Cami and nods, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Cami." You sigh, "Just play the stupid movie." She sighs quietly and presses play, tossing the remote down next to her.

A little bit into the movie, you lean in to Sam, "I'll be right back, I have to go to the bathroom." He nods, giving you a smile as you get up.

You walk to the bathroom closing the door and as you look at yourself in the mirror, your mind shifts from Sam and you zone out.

"You're just.." Colby smiles, brushing hair from your face, "So pretty."

You smile, a blush rising onto your cheeks, "Thank you, Colby." He leans in, "I've honestly never come across anyone as pretty as you."

"Okay, now you're just saying stuff." You laugh and he shakes his head, "No, I'm not. I'm being serious. I've seen hundreds of faces, and yours is my favorite one of all."

You look away, laughing slyly, "Colby."

He grips your chin, turning your head back to face him, "I'm being so serious right now. I'd risk fighting Lucifer himself to be with you."

"Lucifer?" You question and Sam's voice pops up, "Colby. That's enough. Knock it off."

You look around, unable to spot Sam..

Your eyes focus on your figure in the mirror, blinking a few times before you continue to do what you went in there for.

You open the door, flicking the lights off as you walk out.

"Hey I think I'm going to head out." You look up at your friend as you sit down next to Sam and Cami, "Are you good to drive?"

They nod, "Oh yeah, I feel fine. I'll text you when I get home."

"Okay. Be careful." You smile and they nod as they walk out.

A little bit later, two more friends leave, then another one, leaving you with just Sam and Cami.

"Is it just me, or were they acting kind of weird?" You look between them and Sam shrugs, "I know they were getting tired, probably didn't want to have to sleep on the floor." He teases them reassures you, "I think they were good."

Cami yawns and stretches as she leans forward, "Yeah, I think I'm going to head home. I forgot I had an appointment early in the morning."

"But it's Saturday?" You question and she shrugs, "Yeah. There's one that has certain hours."

"Oh." You nod, "Okay." Your eyes follow her as she gets up, walking over to grab her back, "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you!"

"Yeah, okay. Love you, too." You watch her shut the door and then you slowly look over at Sam, "That was so weird."

"Maybe they just settled down, got tired from the alcohol?" Sam suggests and you shrug, "I mean, yeah. You're right." You laugh, "Sorry I'm just-"

There's another thump, almost like the same one at earlier on in the day.

"That happened earlier." You look back, "Hello?"

"Maybe it's your neighbors?" Sam stands up, "I'll go check, maybe someone else did leave."

You nod, turning around to watch as he walks back to check the rooms. He comes out of your room and shakes his head, "No one's here."

You nod, continuing to watch as he then gets this annoyed look on his face and he sighs, "Fine."

"Sam?" You slowly get up, "Who are you talking to?"

"No one, I just-" he laughs, "I have something to tell you."

Your heart starts racing and you feel like your chest gets heavy, "Oh god." Your mind starts racing through every single idea that could potentially happen.

He had a plan this whole time. Gain your trust, get your alone, murder you.

He chuckles, "Relax, sweetheart. I'm not going to murder you."

Your head snaps towards him and you point, "H-how did you-"

"I can read your mind."

His words catch you off guard, "Y0u ju- you can r-" he pause, closing your eyes as you rest your forehead in your hand, "What the fuck is hap-"

You look up, gasping when Sam is right in front of you, "Shit." You go to step back but Sam grabs your wrist.

As scared as you want to be, when he touches you, it's like all your fear washes away and you want to do anything in your power to keep him with you.

"Listen to me." Sam's voice is soft, "I have to tell you something, but I need you to not freak out." He looks into your eyes, "Okay?"

You nod your head, "Y-yeah. I guess I can try."

"Come." He motions towards the couch, "Have a seat."

You walk over, sitting down. You turn your body towards him and rest your hands in your lap. Sam leans back, casually extending his arm over the back, "I made your friends go home."

"Huh?" You tilt your head, "What do you mean you made them leave?"

He shrugs, "Because we were getting impatient and they were just being massive cockblocks."

You sit in silence as you try to process his words, "We?"

Sam nods, "Yeah, remember Colby from the bar?" You nod slowly, "um, yeah. Yes." Sam nods, "Well he's here, too."

You whip around, looking for him, but you don't see him, "Where?" You turn back around, heart racing faster, "Why is he here, too?"

Sam stares at your chest, biting his lip as he pushes the thirst for your blood out of his mind, "You can't see him, he's hiding himself."

"Hiding himself?" You run your hand through your hair, breathing out a quiet, "Fuck."

After a moment of silence, Sam speaks up, "Do you want to know what happened at the bar?"

"I know what happened at the bar. I met you, we talked had a drink, I went to the bathroom then came out and walked with my friends down the street to another club." You look at him and he smirks, "No, sweetheart. Do you want to know what really happened?"

"What really happened?" You question and Sam leans forward, looking into your eyes, "When you remember, you won't make a big deal about it."

You nod and Sam tilts his head, eyes still on yours, "Remember."

You freeze as your mind plays what actually happened at Bar Eight.

Sam compelling you to say yes to his question. Following Sam to the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the sink and being told not to make a sound.

His teeth sinking into your neck and you can almost feel the pleasured pain he caused you as he sucked your blood from your neck.

Colby emerging from behind Sam as your vision goes hazy.

Everything flows if, filling the cracks with missing information and you're left speechless.

You blink, your eyes moving to look at Sam. The only words you can form leave you more shocked as they leave your lips, "Y-you're.. a vampire?"

Sam smiles, nodding his head as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "Correct."

"And Colby?" You raise your brows and Sam tilts his head, "He's a demon."

"A de-" you shake your head, "No. I'm dreaming I can't- this can't be real." You stand up, placing one hand on your forehead and the other on your hip, "I'm having a really, really weird dream."

"Hate to break it to ya, babe." Colby's voice startles you as he walks around from behind you. You jump, stepping back as you look at him. He holds his hand out, "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya."

He chuckles, "But you're not dreaming. You're awake, and we're here."

You slide your hand down, resting your fingers over your lips and your mind starts racking up questions.

"Yes, we're why you felt guilty after going to Tara's party." Colby nods, "And why you felt so obsessed over, well.. nothing really."

"It wasn't really nothing, y/n. We made it so you were, what? Colby. I don't even know what you'd call it." Sam looks to Colby and Colby purses his lips, "Mm."

He snaps his fingers and looks to you, "Love sick."

"We made you love us, without even knowing us. That's why you felt so comfortable with me at the bar, we'd basically manipulate your dreams so you'd know who we were, but someone.." Sam trails off, glaring at Colby before looking back to you, "Thought it would be best if we made it so you couldn't remember when you woke up."

You can feel your legs shaking below you, "And the making me do things? What.. what's that?"

"Oh the compulsion?" Sam nods, "Yeah, that's my favorite thing about being a vampire." He laughs, "I can make anyone do anything I wanted."

"So you.. compelled me.. to.." you point to your neck and he nods, "Yes."

"Why?" You stare at him and he shrugs, "Come on, if a stranger came up to you and said follow me to the bathroom, I want to bite your neck and drink your blood, would you have honestly, willingly gone with?"

"I mean, no but- wait." You point to Colby, "You don't like my blood?"

He sighs, "Ah, yeah. That."

"He could rip you apart if he really wanted to." Sam laughs and Colby rolls his eyes, "So could you, Sam."

Sam nod, leaning back to bring one of his legs up to least on his other one, "That's true. I could tear you apart if I wanted."

Sam is in front of you within the blink of an eye and you lean back slightly. His arm snakes around your wait, hand planting on the small of your back, "But I think you are just.. the sweetest thing."

There is absolutely no fear in your body, and they both know it.

"Why me?" You ask, your breathing growing faster as Sam slides his other hand up your arm to push your hair out of the way, "Why not you?"

His fingers run over the spot he had previously drank from before, "You have such a pretty face, on a pretty neck. You drive me crazy."

He leans in, lips gently pressing against your skin before tilting his head up, "Tell me you don't want me right now. Tell me you don't want us.. right now."

"I-I." You gasp as you feel Colby appear behind you, his hands sliding onto your waist. You bite down on your lip, "Are you going to hurt me?"

"Not unless you want us to, baby." Colby chuckles, "We're here to pleasure you. Make you feel things you've never even thought of feeling."

Colby presses his chest against your back and Sam tilts his head, "We don't take orders from anyone.." his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, "But you."

A rush of excitement washes over you and they both chuckle, "she's excited." Colby whispers, "I can feel it."

"This is so fucking weird." You laugh, still slightly in shock, "Oh my god."

"What do you say, sweetheart." Sam looks into your eyes, "Will you let us be your sickening desire?"

Your lips part open as Colby's lips attach to your neck, sucking a mark into your neck.

You had to admit, the devils voice is so sweet to hear.

Along with them being pretty cute for being, what others would consider monsters.

"You think we're cute?" Sam teases and you sigh, "My thoughts aren't safe anymore are they?"

Sam shakes his head, "Not at all, babe."

"You share them with us now." Colby whispers, "So are you going to answer Sam's question. Are you going to let us show you what an exhilarating ride it is to dance with the devil?"

After taking a moment to think, your eyes meet Sam's and you nod, "Take me."

"As you wish." He lifts you up, walking over to the couch, "But before we start. Can I have that drink now?"

"So that's what you meant?" You bite your lip and he nods, "Uh huh. Exactly." He looks over at Colby and when you look over at him, he's gone.

Sam turns your chin back towards him, "He's not too far off." He winks and slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer to him as he leans up, mouth close to your neck.

Your hands grip the collar of his shirt, preparing for the initial piercing of your skin.

"Tell me when. You call the shots." Sam whispers and you nod, "Go."

You let out a whine, tilting your head to the side as his fangs sink into your neck.

Your fists tighten with his collar still balled up in them, and a moan slips through. Sam wraps tightens his arm around your waist, groaning against your neck.

The euphoric feelings rushes in, causing your arousal to spike.

You need him, and you needed him bad.

Your mind dances off onto the topic of Colby, thinking about how good he looks in the black leather jacket.

How his dark demeanor intimidates you, but also turns you on more than anything.

"Fucking hell, babe. You taste fucking good." Sam leans back, fangs still out as his licks the blood from his lips.

Your eyes gaze over his face as you slide a hand up, wiping away a bead of blood that's getting ready to drip. You drag your finger up his chin, slowly placing it in his mouth and you gasp when his lips wrap around it, sucking your flood off your finger.

"I know I should be scared but.." you bite your lip, pulling your finger from his lips, "I'm not."

"We don't want you to be scared." Sam whispers, "We love you."

Without any hesitation, "I love you both."

"That's the way we want it." He smirks, looking over your shoulder, "You good, Colbs?"

"Oh yeah." Colby answers from behind, "Clean her up. I want my turn with her." Sam smirks and licks his lips again before leaning forward.

A shiver goes down your spine from Colby's words and Sam's tongue gliding over the fresh puncture wounds.

A little whimper leaves your lips, "Please."

"Soon baby." Both say in unison.

"Stand up for me, princess." Sam says and you stand up, slightly wobbly. Colby moves behind you, sweeping you off your feet, "You'll get used to that the more it happens."

You stare up at him, captivated by how a demon can look so pretty.

"I'm not in my true form, sweetheart." Colby smirks, walking you into your room, "Maybe one day I'll show you."

"What do you look like?" You ask and Colby lays you on the bed, "Let's not talk about that right now." He licks his lips, pressing them to yours.

Your hands move to his neck, moaning quietly against them. He slides a hand down, slipping it under your shirt, earning a moan as he toys with your nipple.

You tilt your head back, arching your back as he pinches a bit harder.

You wonder where Sam is, and he instantly appears next to you, "I'm right here, princess." He smirks down at you and you bite down on your lip.

You had so many emotions flooding through your mind and body.

You have never, never felt like this before and that was part of their goal.

Colby slips his hand out, gripping your shirt at the top and tearing it with a smooth glide, exposing your chest, "Mm. Naughty girl, not wearing a bra."

You bite your lip, looking down at him and he smirks, "I like it better when you don't." He winks and leans down, attaching his lips to one nipples while his fingers find the other.

A moan leaves your lips as you lay a hand on the back of his head, "Fuck."

Sam leans down slightly, laying a hand on your head and brushing it over your hair, "We've been watching you for a while now. Did you know that?"

"N-no." You whimper and Sam chuckles, "Of course not. We didn't want to make you love sick, we just needed a way to make you ours before we told you who we truly are."

Colby leans up, "You're the only sense of humanity we have."

"Really?" You look from him to Sam and Sam nods, "Really." You look back to Colby as you feel your jeans being unbuttoned. You lift your hips, eager for them to be off quicker.

Sam stands up, unbuttoning his shirt as Colby works on undressing you fully, "Shit, this is so fucking hot."

Colby smirks, chuckling as he slides his hands up your bare legs, stopping at the band of your panties, "You're more than ready for us, aren't you?"

You nod quickly, "Yes." You move your hips up and down, "yes."

"Taste her, Colby." Sam commands and with that, your panties are ripped from your body, tossed like nothing to the floor.

"Fuck." Colby groans, quickly getting into position with his head between your thighs. Your lips part as you watch his inch closer to you, biting down on your lip when he glances up at you.

He closes the space, his tongue gliding up and down your folds, groaning against you as he finally tastes what he's been anticipating.

Sam's eyes are heavily focused on Colby, watching as he eats you out, "Fuck." He whispers, hand sliding down to palm himself.

You slide your arm towards him while placing your other hand on Colby's head, moaning as your back arches, "S-Sam."

Sam's eyes move to you, instantly picking up on what you want to do for him. He discards his pants, his boxers quickly following, leaving him naked as he climbs on the bed.

He sits on his knee, resting back on his calves as he reaches down. His fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding it to wrap around his cock.

He lets out a relieving moan, bucking his hips as you squeeze and gently stroke him up and down, "F-fuck."

His chest rises and falls quickly as his eyes watch you touch him.

You look over, locking eyes with him as you moan. He focuses on yours, "Cum."

Your body tenses up as a wave of absolute pressure washes over your body, screaming out as you tug on Colby's hair, which earns a deep groan from him.

"That's it, princess." Sam moans, "Fuck."

You catch your breath, watching as Colby sits up. He moves up, attaching his lips to yours and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue that moves against yours.

Sam grabs your wrist, pulling it away from him as he moves to the end of the bed. Once Colby climbs off, Sam grabs your ankles, easily pulling you down so your legs hang down.

You watch as Sam drops to his knees, hooking his arms under your knees as he moves in. His tongue slips into you, groaning as you gasp, "Sh-it."

Colby gets onto the bed, biting his lip as he watches you take his cock into your hand without being told, "Such a good girl." He reaches down, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

You part them, taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking. He tilts his head, watching the sight below him.

He looks down at Sam, watching him devour you before looking back, "Use your mouth, baby."

You comply, you don't need any kind of compulsion to do anything.

It's all you.

You push his thumb out of your mouth with your tongue, lifting your head to allow the tip of his cock to replace it.

He gasps, moaning as he lays a hand on the back of your head, "More, baby. Take more of me."

You swirl your tongue, coating him in saliva before you push your head onto him more. You moan around him as Sam slips a finger into your soaked cunt, tongue swirling around your clit.

Colby fights to keep his eyes open, "Shit." He pushes your head down, holding it there as he thrusts his hips, "Doing so fucking good."

Your back arches and your moans are muffled. Colby holds still, allowing you to have control again.

You bob your head, pausing as Sam slips another finger in, curling them slowly as he sucks your clit.

"Fuck." Colby glances down at Sam and back to you, brushing hair from your face. You tilt your head back, taking a deep breath as you moan loudly.

Colby moves back a little, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Cum."

You whimper as your orgasm rushes in again, ripping loud moans and screams from your throat as you cum around Sam's fingers.

"Does that feel good?" Colby asks stroking his hand over your hair, "Looks like it does."

"Yesyesyes!" You scream out, "Fuck yes!"

Sam pulls his fingers out, standing up to lean down over you. Your eyes lock into his as he slips his two fingers into your mouth, "lick them clean for me."

Your tongue swirls around his fingers, sucking them clean like he said. He drags them out, pulling your bottom lip down slightly as he leans down to kiss where he bit a not, too long ago.

He reaches up, gripping your chin as he studies your face, "I want to drink from you while Colby fucks you from behind."

You nod, "P-please, Sam."

"You don't have to beg, princess. Not this time." He smirks and stands up, walking around to lay on the bed, "Come here."

You sit up, turning around to crawl up the bed, straddling his lap. Colby moves behind you, hands on your hips as you lean down to connect your lips with Sam's.

You feel spit run down over your center, followed by Colby's cock rubbing it in before slipping the tip of his cock in.

You gasp into Sam's mouth and both of their hands hold your body still, "Feel good?" Sam asks lowly and you nod, eyes closed as you moan, "So good."

Sam kisses down the front of your neck, licking back up to under your jaw, "Think you can take both of us at once?"

His words surprise you and he chuckles, "Only if you want to try of course."

Colby pushes his cock into you, groaning as his fingers dig into your hips, "Shit." He bites down on his lip, slowly pulling out before starting to thrust at a slow pace.

You moan, looking down at Sam. He watches your face scrunch up as he slides his hand up to your neck, slowly squeezing.

"fuck, I can't fight it anymore." Sam groans as he pulls your hair back into a make shift ponytail, holding it with his hand, "Stay as still as you can for me, okay?"

You whimper in response, moaning from Colby's cock thrusting in and out of you.

Sam licks his lips, tilting his head to get to the side he hasn't bit yet. He pulls you in close and sinks his fangs into your neck.

You let out a small yelp, quickly covering it up with a loud moan. You fist the sheets next to Sam, pulling in them as you try to stay as still as you can.

Colby's grip on your hips is tight enough to where you know you'll have small round bruises from his fingers digging into your skin.

Sam sucks your neck, moaning lowly as lifts his head slightly. His eyes flick down to your neck, "I'll never get enough of you."

"I'm yours." You moan out quietly, "Both of yours."

"Who do you belong to?" Colby asks, "Say it louder."

Sam reconnects his mouth to your neck, making your vision go blurry, "Y-yours." You moan, screaming out, "Both, I belong to you both."

"That's our girl." Colby groans, "Our fucking girl."

Sam lifts his head, licking your neck clean and lays his head back. You stare down at him as Colby's thrusts come to a stop.

Sam reaches down, grabbing his cock to slide it into your cunt along with Colby's.

You let out a whimper as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate them both, "F-fuck." You hang your head down, whimpering as they both start to thrust, quickly finding a pace.

Sam slides his hand back up, cupping your cheek, "Tell us how good you feel."

"So.. fucking.." you gasp, "Good!"

"Do you want to cum?" Colby asks and you answer him immediately, "Yes, yes. So bad." A string of whines and moans leave your lips non-stop.

"Little bit longer baby." Colby rubs his hand up and down your back, "Doing so good for us."

Your eyes scan quickly over Sam's face. There's just something about the blood covering his chin that turns you on even more.

"Thank you." He groans out with a smirk. You smile, biting your lip as your brows furrow, "Oh fuck. Fuck."

"Think she's had enough, Colbs?" Sam asked eyes not leaving your face.

"She's earned a break." Colby answers and Sam pinches your chin between his pointer and thumb, "Look at me, princess."

You open your eyes and he locks his onto yours, "Cum."

Pleasure washes over you, causing your body to shake as it feels much more powerful than the last two orgasms you had.

You feel their cocks slip out of you and you cling to Sam, moaning and whining as you work your way through your high.

"That's it, baby. That's it." Sam whispers as he plants kisses on your face, leaving little spots of blood.

You slowly relax, breathing heavy as you roll off of Sam to lay on the bed.

"You know. You look so cute with blood on your face." Sam leans over and smiles down at you. You laugh slightly, too tired to even care.

You feel someone one wiping you off and Sam comes back with a clean face and something to wipe yours off with.

You didn't think they would do this, you thought they were just going to have their way with you and leave.

"Just because we're labeled as not good doesn't mean we don't care about the aftercare part." Colby smirks slightly and you smile, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart. You have a lot to learn." He winks and pulls the blankets up over your legs, "And yeah, that means we aren't going anywhere."

"Mhm. We claimed you." Sam says lying next to you, he brushes hair from your face, "so does it all make sense now?"

You nod, looking between them, "oh yeah. Everything is so much clearer now."

"You're still in shock aren't you?" Colby asks and you bat the air, "not at all." He raises a brow and tilts his head, "We can tell how you're feeling, babe. No need to lie."

You sigh, "Okay, fine. Maybe a little bit."

Colby lays next to you on your other side and rubs your arm, "Do you have any questions for us?"

"Were those thuds I heard earlier, you guys?" You ask as you pull the blanket up a little more. Sam laugh, "Yeah, that was Colby accidentally knocking stuff over."

You laugh, "This is just.." you sigh, "I'm sure I have more questions, I just.. my brain right now is so scrambled."

"You're fine, princess." Sam smiles, "You need rest."

"Will you be here in the morning?" You ask and look between them. Sam nods and Colby smiles, "We're always with you."

Sam smirks, "You have claim on us now."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did and let me tell you, it was A LOT. So let me know how I did!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken

#samandcolby-ownme #sam and colby #sam and colby one shots #colby brock #sam golbach #dirty one shot #smut #sam and colby smut #one shot smut #colby brock smut #solby x reader smut #solby smut #vampire!sam golbach x reader #demon!colby x reader #vampire!sam golbach #demon!colby brock #dirty colby brock oneshots #sam golbach dirty one shots #colby brock dirty one shots #sam golbach dirty #smutty one shot #smut writer #Love sick #updates #original one shot

[eiightysixbaby]

cruel summer

no rules in breakable heaven

word count: 6.7k

pairing: modern!fuckboy!eddie x fem!reader

summary: eddie is your summer fling, your friend with benefits - or at least, that’s all he’s supposed to be. what happens when your feelings get in the way?

cw: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI - SMUT. eddie is a fuckboy!! he acts like an ass in this, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, angst, hurt with no comfort (yet), alcohol consumption, use of pet names, reader cries, like a lot honestly, miscommunication/misunderstanding, use of Y/N, as always if I missed something feel free to lmk!

author’s note: this fic is, of course, based on the song cruel summer by miss taylor swift, so I highly recommend listening to that if you haven’t! part two will be in the works soon! no idea when it’ll be posted, but it is coming >:)

Your fingers dug into the soft material of the mattress, face smooshed against the cotton sheets. Your brain felt foggy, the alcohol in your system making your whole body buzz slightly. Your back arched almost involuntarily as Eddie’s hips snapped roughly into your aching heat, bringing you fully back into the moment. He was railing you relentlessly from behind, rough hands taking a firm hold on your hips, keeping them in place for him. If it didn’t feel so good you’d almost feel bad for fucking in a bed that didn’t belong to either of you, Eddie having pulled you into a spare room at Steve’s house, escaping the noise of the party for some alone time. This is how things went with the two of you as of late, the wild and free atmosphere of summer leaving you craving each other and crossing boundaries. He’d call you late at night or maybe you’d call him, asking the other to come over. Letting Eddie fuck you raw till your insides burned and your body was spent. Leaving his trailer at 2 in the morning with your mascara running and his cum dripping down your thighs, just to do the same thing all over again in a few days.

You knew Eddie got around, knew you weren’t the only girl he was hooking up with. But the way he’d look at you when you were riding him and the way he’d caress your face as he’d lean in to kiss you made you feel like you were the only one. Like you were his. His energy was intoxicating, the sex even better, and you couldn’t get enough of him. No matter how hard you tried, he kept pulling you back in for more. Another hard thrust into you brought you back out of your drunk haze, his cock pulling all the way out just to slam fully back in. Your pussy welcomed him, enveloped him in the warmth of your walls, never wanting to let him go.

“Shit, baby, this pussy loves me,” Eddie grunts. “Suckin, me right in, fuck.”

You bite down on your lip hard, stifling what would’ve been a rather loud moan. Eddie pulls out and flips you onto your back, pushing your thighs to your chest, folding you right in half for him. Your pussy is on perfect display for him, wide open and pleading for him to come back in. He moves his hips expertly, cock gliding into you with complete ease despite his size. Your moans are staggered as he fucks you at a brutal pace, your whole body bouncing on the mattress with every thrust.

“My favorite fuckin’ girl, such a slut for me. No one lets me fuck them like you do, baby, mmmmmfuck,”

Your head spins at the praise, his choice of words. His favorite girl. You can’t help but wonder how many other girls he calls his favorite, too. You shake the thoughts away promptly, trying to allow yourself to just enjoy this moment with him. Enjoy having him for as long as you can. His calloused fingers are pressed into the doughy skin of your thighs, gripping with such intensity it almost hurts. Before you can fully process it you’re cumming around him, walls tightening over and over in a staggered pattern.

“G’na cum inside this pussy, baby, shit,” Eddie grunts before finally letting go.

His release paints your insides, your tight cunt milking every bit out of him. He pulls out once he’s fully spent, smacking your ass for good measure. You hear him zipping up his jeans, his belt buckle clanking as he secures it. He grabs a few tissues from the bedside table, gingerly wiping you clean before tossing them in the wastebasket.

“You’re such a doll, you know that right?” he asks, bending down to give you a quick peck on the lips.

You give him a half hearted smile, but he doesn’t seem to notice there’s any sadness behind it. He cautiously opens the bedroom door, slinking out under the guise of “letting you get situated”. Just like that, the euphoria is over. Your moment with him is gone, and he’ll slink back to the hustle and bustle of the party, leaving you in the shadows. You didn’t want to fall so hard for Eddie when your whole charade started, you really just wanted a fuck buddy. It’s just that he’s so goddamn alluring, and he’s sweet when he wants to be. He makes you feel good in ways no other guy has been able to, and it’s like you get drunk on him. You’re tumbling head over heels for Eddie, and to him you’re just one of many notches on his belt.

You fix yourself up, tidying up your appearance before heading back down to the party. A song you don’t recognize blares over the speakers, colorful lights flashing in the otherwise dark house. You check your phone for any texts, reading one from Nancy asking where you went. You decide you really don’t feel like answering that right now, slinking into the kitchen for another drink and slipping your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. You pour yourself some of whatever inebriating mixture sits in the pitcher on the countertop, the bright blue liquid filling your red plastic cup. You sip the drink, probably quicker than you should, walking past groups of people - couples getting a little too friendly with each other, a shirtless guy you don’t know standing on a table, a few girls huddled together on a sofa taking selfies.

You walk out to the backyard, the noise of the party becoming too much. The night air is warm and it smells sweet, a bonfire lit in the fire pit on the opposite side of the backyard. The unmistakable scent of the burning wood clings to your nose as you glance up into the trees where fireflies blink slowly. Your thighs ache, and you swear you can feel Eddie’s cum still leaking out of you. Your stomach twists in knots at the thought of it, wishing he’d stayed to help you clean up, wishing he’d kiss you in front of everyone to lay claim on you, wishing he’d let you snuggle into him as you sat around the bonfire. Wishing so desperately that he’d make you his, the way your friends always joke that he should because they can always sense the tension between the two of you.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear a high pitched squeal and then a splash, looking up to see a girl’s head protruding from the water in the pool.

“Eddie!” she squeals, over exaggeratedly loud. “You got me all wet,” she pouts, “you’re gonna have to come in here with me.”

“No can do, sweets, can’t ruin the hair,” Eddie jokes, sitting down at the pool’s edge.

The unfamiliar girl pulls herself out of the water to sit beside him, reaching out and pretending to scrunch his hair with her wet fingers. Eddie laughs and leans away, grabbing her wrists with his much larger hands to stop her. She giggles as Eddie pulls her closer to him, slinking an arm around her waist. You feel like you could throw up, the skin of your cheeks heating up significantly. Eddie notices you standing up against the side of the house, meeting your eyes for only a moment before you turn and enter the large house once more. Your cup trembles in your hand, your stomach turning as you process the scene you just witnessed. He just fucked you raw upstairs, and already he’s got a new girl with him. He doesn’t even have the decency to wait until you’ve left, prick. You scowl, but the worst part is you know you can’t stay mad at him. You don’t actually think he’s a bad person, and you don’t know if you ever could. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when you feel a delicate hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N? Hey, are you okay? Where have you been?”

“Nance - hey. Uh y-yeah I’m just… not feeling so well all of a sudden? I think I’d better get going-” you stammer, furiously wiping the wetness from your eyes.

Nancy’s eyes are no longer trained on you but instead are gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows of the sun room. You turn to follow her gaze, and see that she’s looking right at Eddie, who’s now in the pool with the giggly girl, kissing her with her arms around his neck.

She looks back at you, catching the way you nervously chew your bottom lip and also catching the hickey that was left on your neck.

“You say the word and I swear to god I’ll kill him,” Nancy says, getting the sentence out just as Jonathan comes up behind her.

He doesn’t even need to ask who she’s referring to, and you see his eyes flicker up to look out the windows, becoming another witness to Eddie’s bullshit. He frowns slightly before turning his attention to you.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” he asks, patting you on the back with one firm hand.

You try to open your mouth to speak, but you can’t bring words to come out. Your throat feels thick and your lips start to wobble. You shake your head ‘no’ in favor of trying to talk and starting to sob, and your friends can tell you’re close to tears. You can hear Eddie and the girl shouting outside, and before you can turn around to look Nancy’s hurrying you out of the sun room. Her and Jonathan guide you into an empty bedroom, Nancy sitting beside you on the soft mattress of the bed, rubbing your back tentatively.

Your friends don’t know all of the details to what’s going on with you and Eddie, but they know enough. Considering most of them are your and his mutual friends, it’s not hard for speculation to go around based on the way the two of you act towards one another. And, quite frankly, they’re not stupid. You and Eddie disappearing for the same amount of time at group hangouts, the occasional flirtatious glances you share, you being visibly upset when he hasn’t spoken to you in a while, the pieces add up. They know you’re more sweet on Eddie than you let on and they know he’s a complete fuckboy asshole half the time, never quite knowing what’s going on with him and why he has to act the way he does with women. They never let Eddie in on your presumed feelings, they keep that secret guarded with their lives and for that you’re grateful. You know they know and you also know they’ll never make you say it out loud unless you’re ready to. But you have a feeling they must grow weary of picking up your pieces when he lets you down yet again, in ways they don’t have the full details on.

Nancy and Jonathan offer to get you a glass of water, both of them embarking on the rather simple task solely so they can discuss the situation at hand.

“What the fuck is his problem!?” Nancy seethes loud enough for her boyfriend to hear over the music.

“I don’t know, Nance, I don’t know. But I do know that if I have to see Y/N break one more time because of him I’m gonna lose it,” Jonathan responds, weaving past people in attempt to keep up with her.

Nancy just looks at him, her eyes sad and a little defeated. Jonathan understands the look. The look that says she knows Eddie upsets you far more than you ever tell them, a look that says she wishes she knew what to do in this situation.

She turns on the tap in the kitchen sink, filling a cup with ice and then with cold water. She jumps, spilling a little bit of the cup’s contents as Eddie walks in from outside, whooping and hollering and very intoxicated. The girl from the pool is clinging to his side, her hands roaming all over him. Jonathan rolls his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter and facing away from the commotion.

“He’s such a fucking asshole sometimes,” Nancy says finally, having refilled the cup, now wiping her wet hand on her skirt. “Someone needs to knock some sense into him, or I’m gonna knock his teeth in.”

“Oooo, kitty’s got her claws out,” a voice purrs from beside her.

Nancy gasps, earning a roar of a laugh from Eddie. She smacks him on the arm, typically open to Eddie’s jokes and antics but extremely done with him in the present moment.

“Who’s got you so worked up, Nance?” Eddie slurs, stumbling a little before Jonathan shoves him back upright.

“He’s talking to me right now, actually,” she gives him a fake tight lipped smile, trying to push past him and get back to you.

“Me? What’d I do? You’ve barely even seen me all night!” Eddie shouts, almost knocking into a couple party goers as he tries to catch up.

“I really shouldn’t have to tell you what you did wrong, Eddie. Get your head out of your ass for once and figure it out yourself!” Nancy yells.

There’s a lull in the music as she says it, and several people turn to look in their direction, Steve and Robin sharing confused glances at the sight. Nancy storms off, leaving Jonathan face to face with Eddie.

“Think about it, man,” is all Jonathan says before he walks away, following after his girlfriend.

Eddie stands there, in the middle of a room packed with people, suddenly feeling very, very alone.

•

It’s been a week since you sat in a bedroom in Steve’s house, crying into Nancy’s shoulder as she did her best to console you. It’s been a week since you’ve had any interaction with Eddie, and your heart ached. Not because of how he behaved at the party, no, you couldn’t bring yourself to stay mad at him. Your heart ached with a longing to see him, a deep desire to have him. You’d kept the ringer turned up on your phone, hoping he’d call or text and ask you to come over, but to no avail so far. You huffed, dropping your phone down onto your bed beside you after checking it for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. Your bedroom window is open slightly, letting the soft breeze and the sounds of summer nights penetrate your otherwise quiet abode. You lay with your legs dangling off the edge of your mattress, staring up at your ceiling and trying to will yourself to get up. You finally bring yourself to stand, pulling your coziest sweatshirt over your head and slipping on some shoes. You trod down the stairs to the lobby of your apartment building, stopping in front of the vending machines they so nicely placed there for residents. You were running out of snacks because you couldn’t bear to go out and go grocery shopping, so this was your best bet. You deserved some Cheetos and maybe a chocolate bar, god dammit. You stand there for a moment, skin glowing a blue-white hue from the fluorescent lights inside the machine. Your phone chimes in your pocket, breaking you from your haze. You grab it embarrassingly quickly, almost dropping it as you hold it up to look at the screen. It’s only Robin, sending an embarrassing photo of Steve at work.

You sigh, stuffing your phone back in your pocket and letting your head hang. You take a breath, trying of make yourself feel some sort of normal right now. You’re fine. You don’t need Eddie. You’re not gonna die. You press a few buttons on the vending machine, inserting your card before it dispenses your selections. You’re trudging back up to your apartment, ripping into your bag of Cheetos when your phone rings. You manage an impressive amount of self control as you wait till you’ve fully opened your door and taken your shoes off to see who’s calling. Eddie’s name lights up on your screen, and you feel your stomach do a somersault. You answer the call with shaky hands.

“Hello?” you force out around your mouthful of cheesy snacks, trying to sound as graceful as possible.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry I’ve been a little MIA lately. I missed you,” his voice purrs into the phone.

“I missed you too…” you admit, going against your brain telling you not to give into him.

“What’re you doing right now? Can I come pick you up?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’m not doing much of anything,” you can’t help but smile as you say it, your cheeks heating up.

“Cool, I’ll be there in fifteen,” Eddie promises before ending the call, leaving you standing in your living room with your cheese powder covered fingers, smiling at your phone like an idiot.

You hurry into your room to change, slipping on a loose little tennis skirt and a snug fitting crop top, the fabric hugging your body and accentuating your breasts perfectly. You pull a thin cardigan sweater over top of it to ward off the chill of the nighttime air. Eddie’s true to his word and in about fifteen minutes your phone chimes with a text from him.

‘Here. Don’t keep me waiting ;)’

You scurry out the door, grabbing your bag and your keys. You hurriedly apply a bit of lipgloss as you run down the stairs, knowing Eddie likes the flavor of this one. Eddie watches you from out his windshield as you come bounding towards his car, giving him a sly little wave in the process. He licks his lips as his eyes rake up and down your frame. You swing open the passenger side door, sitting down on the seat and letting your bag drop to the floor.

“Hey, sweets. You look pretty tonight,” he says, grabbing one of your hands and kissing it as he winks at you.

You blush, wondering if he’s sweetening you up to make up for the events of the party. You once again find yourself clinging to the notion that this time it’ll be different, this time he won’t leave you, this time he’ll stay the night after and you’ll make breakfast together in the morning and dance together in the kitchen. His hand squeezes yours as he drives, and he turns up a song on the radio. His stereo is tuned to the oldies station, as per usual. Hysteria by Def Leppard blasts through the speakers, Eddie tapping the fingers of his left hand on the steering wheel as he sings along exaggeratedly.

“I gotta know tonight, if you’re aloneeee toniiiiiight!” Eddie sings, off key and purposely pitchy to make you laugh.

You giggle in the passenger seat as he steals glances at you while he sings along, his right hand entwined with your left.

“Can’t stop this feelin’, can’t stop this fiiiiire,” he continues on, bringing your hand to his chest and pounding on it in a passionate performance.

The drive continues that way, Eddie singing any song he recognizes and turning every single one into a ballad somehow, serenading you. You’re a fit of giggles and stolen glances in his direction, smirking whenever you meet his eyes. You feel more alive in this moment than you have all week.

Tires crunch over gravel as Eddie’s car finally pulls into a parking spot behind The Hideaway, a local bar-slash-restaurant that leans further into the bar aspect with cheap drinks and greasy food, perfect for a summer night. Eddie jogs around to your side of the car to open the door, grabbing your hand and helping you out. He’s being much more chivalrous than usual and it makes your heart swell. This feels like a real date, and your hands tremble with giddiness. The two of you grab a table once you’re inside, the skin of your thighs sliding over the cool material of the booth. You order a couple drinks and whatever food strikes your fancy, one of Eddie’s hands reaching across the table to stroke your arm now and then as you sit and talk. You don’t miss his wandering glances down to your breasts and your lips, and he doesn’t miss the way you eye his ringed fingers and the chain around his neck.

Once you have a few drinks in you, you’ve loosened up quite a bit. Music plays loudly throughout the building and several people have gathered on the makeshift dance floor, moving to the rhythm. You’re pulling Eddie out of his seat, walking backwards onto the floor to dance with him. You pull him close till he’s pressed against your backside, letting your hips sway against him. You don’t miss the way he stiffens when your ass presses into his crotch, his body going tense and his grip on your waist getting tighter. You lean your head back a little bit, inviting him in to kiss your neck. His soft lips press into your sensitive skin, nipping at the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder. His dark curls hang in his face and tickle your skin, the cold metal of his rings digging into the soft skin of your waist left exposed by your crop top.

You dance like this for a while, touches growing more intimate and lips becoming more reluctant to leave each other’s skin. Finally, Eddie decides he can’t take it anymore. He’s rock hard pressed up against you and the way your body moves is sinful. He pulls you off the floor and into a private bathroom, locking the door quickly behind him. As soon as he does he pulls you to him, kissing you with fervor as his hands roam your body. You melt right into him, your body pliant to whatever he wants to do to you. Your tongue prods into his mouth and you roll your hips into his, taking what you want. Your hand tugs on the collar of his shirt, his breath coming out of his nostrils in heavy huffs as he kisses you like his life depends on it.

He walks you backwards to press you against the small counter for the sink, smiling into the heated kiss when you jump to sit on the counter immediately. His fingers find their way up your thighs, roaming further until they reach the sticky heat between them. Eddie wastes no time, hooking a finger under the fabric of your panties and sliding them to the side. You groan into his open mouth, and his cock twitches in his jeans at the sound. He dips two fingers inside of your warm, wet cunt, the digits being sucked in instantly.

“Pussy’s so fucking greedy for me, did my favorite girl miss me?” Eddie’s voice is a husky growl as he speaks, lips mere centimeters from yours.

All you can do is nod, a high pitched moan escaping your lips. His favorite girl his favorite girl his favorite girl. It never gets old hearing him call you that, he knows exactly what to say to get you to bend to his every whim. His fingers scissor inside of you, your wet walls squelching as he pries them apart.

“Fucking filthy, baby. Such a little whore for me, hm?” he grins, his pink tongue rolling over his front teeth.

Your moans leave your mouth in breathy spurts as he continues to pump his fingers in and out, curling them right into your sweet spot. You lean your head forward, resting on his chest as his free hand comes to rest on your lower back, keeping you close. His thumb presses to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bead with just the right amount of pressure. He knows exactly what you like, exactly how to bring you to the edge. You’re whimpering for him, his lips coming to crash against yours, teeth nipping at the plump skin. The alcohol in your system amplifies your senses, making every touch he gives you feel magnified.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me so soon?” Eddie groans, sensing how close you’re getting by the way your walls tense around his fingers.

You can’t even reply before waves of pleasure wrack your body, your orgasm hitting you incredibly quickly. You cry out his name as his fingers continue to curl inside of you, a smirk gracing his face, cockiness taking over completely.

“Suuuuuch a fuckin’ slut for me, hm? Gonna let me fuck you baby?” his husky voice fills your ears, along with the sound of his belt being undone.

He knows you won’t deny him, knows how badly you need this. You hear the zzzzzzzip of the zipper on his jeans being tugged down, watch as he pulls the black denim down just enough. Keep your eyes trained on him as he grabs his cock from beneath the green cotton of his boxers, yanking it into view. His boxers get shoved down with his jeans, resting just below his ass. The pink head of his cock is shiny with pre cum as you wrap a hand around it, lining him up with your aching hole. He sucks in a breath as he pushes the tip in, reveling in the way you tilt your head back in ecstasy as he parts your folds. Your tits are propped up perfectly thanks to your snug top and your push-up bra, swells of skin on display for his eyes to rake over. He dips down, attaching to your collarbone and sucking the thin skin, licking over the stinging bruises he leaves behind.

“F-feels so good, Eddie,” you choke out, gasping as he thrusts as deep as he possibly can, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“I know it does baby, know how much you love this cock,” Eddie growls.

His hands dig into your hips, holding you in place while he fucks you ruthlessly. The lewd sounds of his shaft gliding in and out of your soaked cunt echo off the bathroom walls, his balls slapping with every jolt of his hips. You tangle your fingers in his curls, knowing it drives him crazy. Eddie doesn’t let you in on a whole lot of the things that make him weak, but the hair pulling one was discovered involuntarily. You’d done it the first time you ever hooked up and he’d moaned embarrassingly loud before he could stop himself, and you’d been using the knowledge to your advantage ever since. He curses as you tug on his dark brown locks, his cock pounding into you even harder. Your body feels like it’s on fire in the best way, so close to release again already. Another bar patron knocks on the bathroom door, only grabbing your attention for a fraction of a second before Eddie grabs your face with one hand, turning you to look directly at him.

“Don’t worry about that, focus on me,” he instructs, his jaw hanging open in a moan as he drives particularly deep into you.

His forehead rests on yours, brown eyes staring straight into yours as he ruins you. The movement of his hips grow messy, and you know he’s close. You’re free falling over the edge in no time, your heavy-lidded eyes trying their best to focus on Eddie as your second orgasm crashes through you.

“That’s it, baby, so good for me,” he grunts, not slowing his movements even a bit.

“Cum inside me, Eddie, please,” you whine, clawing desperately at the collar of his shirt.

“Gonna give it to you, baby, gonna fucking cum,” he’s panting, rolling his hips a couple more times into your soaking cunt until he’s a goner.

You feel him twitch slightly inside you as spurts of his cum fill you to the brim. His eyes squeeze shut as he rides it out, slowly rocking in and out of you, milking himself for every drop. He pulls out of you carefully, causing you to wince at the emptiness. You hop down from the counter on shaky legs, his cum mixing with your release as it slowly rolls down your thighs.

“You’re so fucking hot, babe,” Eddie almost whines, grabbing your face to kiss you.

He situates himself back in his jeans and leaves you to clean up, telling you he’ll be at your table from before. You wipe the mess off your thighs with the horribly thin toilet paper the bar offers, sitting on the grimy toilet seat to pee. You deem yourself good to go after washing your hands and open the door, catching Eddie giving you a little wave from the booth you’d been sitting at. You bound over to him, an unmistakable wave of relief at the fact that he was waiting right where he said he’d be. The two of you are about to leave, throwing cash on the table for the staff to pick up, when you hear a chipper voice call your name.

“Y/N!?”

You spin around, searching in the direction of the voice when your eyes land on a head of strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

“Chrissy? Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!” you shout, turning to Eddie briefly. “I’ll be right back, kay? I have to catch up with her real quick!”

You jog towards your old friend, wrapping her in a tight hug. She doesn’t seem to take note of who you were with, or if she does she doesn’t pry for details, and you’re grateful for that. You hadn’t seen Chrissy much at all since high school, and the two of you get right to chit-chatting. You tell her about your job, she tells you about her breakup with Jason, so on and so forth. A little more time passes than you’d intended, so you leave her with a mutual promise to get together soon and yet another hug. You turn to find Eddie so you can leave, your brows furrowing when you don’t see him.

Finally your eyes land on him, sitting on a stool at the bar, a blonde bartender leaning over the counter with a hand on his bicep, and another woman standing on his one side, eyeing him up. The bartender leans further over the counter, her tits pressed together and on display from her low cut top, basically staring Eddie in the face. He seems to be laughing, striking up conversation in his disgustingly easy manner. Your stomach turns and your face grows hot, and you bring a hand to your mouth to muffle a cry as you rush out the door of the bar. The tears flow instantly, there’s no use in even trying to stop them. You grasp your phone in a trembling hand, dialing Nancy’s cell. The lights from the street go blurry as your eyes burn with tears, your chest heaving as the dial tone rings in your ear.

“Hello?” her voice picks up, concern evident in her tone given that it’s 11pm and you’re calling her.

“Nancy,” you sob, trying to steady your voice but it’s fruitless, “can- can you please pick me up? I’m at The Hideaway,” you stutter, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

“Jonathan and I are on the way. Sit tight, ok?” you agree and the call ends, leaving you alone until they arrive.

You tilt your head back, leaning against the brick wall of the old building, sobs wracking your entire body. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You curse yourself for believing that this night with Eddie would go any differently than the others. Your mind replays the way he sang to you in the car, the way he held your hand, the way he opened doors for you and stroked your skin at the table earlier. The lump in your throat is impossible to swallow, and you gasp for air between your cries. Nancy’s car pulls up at the curb in front of you, Jonathan in the drivers seat. She immediately jumps out and runs to you, leaning down to your shriveled frame as you curl into yourself. She all but scoops you up, an arm around your shoulder as she guides you to the backseat of the car. She gets in beside you rather than returning to the passenger seat, a gentle and soothing hand resting on your knee as Jonathan starts to drive. You catch the way he glances warily at you in the rearview mirror, face riddled with concern. Your head is pounding, the drinks you had earlier still making your thoughts slightly hazy and everything around you feel slow. When Eddie picked you up, you’d imagined yourself going home with him, making out in his van, tangling up together in his bedsheets. You hadn’t predicted yourself to be drunk in the back of your best friend’s car, crying like a baby on your way home. You mentally scold yourself, embarrassed with the way your friends have to see you, the way they have to try and pick up your pieces when they don’t even know what’s wrong. This is the second time in a week that these two have consoled you, and you feel horrible for making them put up with it.

“Were you with Eddie tonight?” Nancy asks cautiously, but there’s no judgment in her voice.

All you can do is nod, your eyes glassy as you gaze out the window. She squeezes your knee, and the rest of the ride back to your apartment is silent.

Nancy makes sure that you get safely inside, leading you into your room to help you change into some comfortable clothes. She fills your favorite water bottle and grabs your favorite blanket off of the couch, handing them both to you.

“Nance-” you go to thank her, but she cuts you off.

“You don’t have to thank me. You don’t have to say anything. Just take care of yourself, alright? Call me if you need anything,” she squeezes your hand and gives you a tight smile before leaving, closing the door quietly behind her.

The sobs that had started to subside come back in full swing once you’re left alone, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. You take shaky breaths, your heart feeling like it’s been shattered to pieces in your chest. You wanted to believe that Eddie was going to redeem himself this time, and to see that he had no shame about flirting with other women while in the bar that he drove you to stung deep to your core. What hurts even worse is that all you crave, still, is his arms around you, his lips on yours, a moment of peace in a fragile heaven. You curl into a ball on your mattress, letting all of the feelings out in the quiet of your lonely apartment.

Eddie was in a slight panic when he couldn’t find you anywhere in the bar. He had gotten bored while you were catching up with Chrissy, so he went to get himself one last drink before the two of you went on your way. He sunk himself onto a seat at the bar, where a brunette about his age was chatting with the bartender. The second he sat down, he could feel their eyes roaming all over him. The flirting was incessant from the get-go, and truly, all Eddie wanted was to take you home with him, his body craving a second round of you. He had no interest in the two women before him, but for the sake of keeping the peace he just allowed them to fawn over him, roaming hands and seductive eyes drinking him in. He made small talk, forcing smiles and even a couple laughs just to appease the crowd before he could dip. He downed his drink fairly quickly, intentionally so, so that he could make his exit and find you. All he wanted was to grab your hand and kiss you and hold you all night long and- fuck.

He shakes his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts. His brain had been overwhelmingly full of you since the party at Steve’s, and he was uneasy about it. The situation with you was strictly friends-with-benefits, nothing more. It can’t be more. Dark eyes scan the premises, searching for you but coming up unlucky. He checks with Chrissy, who didn’t see where you went after you said your goodbyes, he knocks politely on the bathroom doors to no avail. He goes out to his vehicle only to find it empty. He calls you once, twice, three times, only for the line to ring and ring. With ever perfect timing, a text pops up on his phone screen.

Jonathan: Nancy and I drove Y/N home. What happened, man?

Eddie’s brow furrows as he reads the message, why did you call them to take you home? What did happen? He curses to himself, climbing into his car and peeling out of the parking lot, heading in the direction of your apartment. His fingers drum nervously on the steering wheel, every red light feeling like it takes years to change to bright green. He finally pulls up to your building, his body feels unsteady as he walks up the stairs to your door. He knocks with a shaky hand.

You’re startled by the knock at your door, your crying having stopped for the time being and your body starting to relax. The knock comes again, urgent sounding, and you trod down your hallway and towards the door. Your head pounds and your sinuses are stuffy from your breakdown, and you wince as the loud banging sounds on your door yet again. You pull it open, met with the shaggy hair and big eyes of the man you’ve been wallowing over.

“Y/N, what the fuck!? You scared me half to death, why did you leave without me?” Eddie nearly shouts, running a hand through his hair.

His question dumbfounds you, and you almost want to laugh at the absurdity.

“Why did I leave? Why did I leave!? I don’t know, Eddie, why don’t you ask the bimbo bartender and her friend, and god knows what other women you flirted with when I walked away for maybe twenty fucking minutes!?” the words spill out of you, and you’re shocked at your ability to call him out.

“The bartender-? What? Sweets, I wasn’t flirting with anyone I was just-”

“I don’t want to fucking hear it, Eddie, okay? You pulled the same shit at Steve’s party last weekend! Hook up with me and make me feel sooooo special and then turn around and woo someone else right after. I’m sick of it!” your voice is raised, leaving Eddie wide-eyed in front of you.

“Oh, you’re sick of it? You’re sick of me?” Eddie no longer feels like he owes you an explanation, his need to defend himself taking over.

“I’m sick of keeping secrets, Eddie! I’m sick of not telling our friends what the fuck is going on between us because I don’t want to make you out to be the bad guy! I’m so god damn tired of watching you flirt with every woman under the fucking sun,” your voice wavers, anger trickling in.

“Why the fuck do you care if I flirt with other women? Why does it matter?” Eddie counters, holding his hands out in exasperation.

“Because I love you, Eddie! I’m in love with you!” you shout, tears streaming from your eyes now in a mixture of sadness and anger and passion.

The silence is palpable as Eddie just stands there, shaking his head a little bit. Your heart feels as though it might beat out of your chest.

“What, is that the worst fucking thing you’ve ever heard?” you challenge.

He turns on his heel and exits without a word, leaving you to slam your door shut. You sink down on the inside of it, tears flowing harder than ever before. His silent exit was worse than any words he could have said, cutting you right to the bone, leaving you to bleed all alone.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #fuckboy!eddie munson

[twogyuu]

the unoriginal villain origin story

Pairing: Jeonghan x fem!reader (ft. friend!Wonwoo)

Synopsis: In which Jeonghan and his friends recount the series of unfortunate events that led to you.

Alternatively, in which maybe leaving it up to fate Wonwoo is all Jeonghan really needed to do all along.

Genre: Fluff, crack, angst if you squint, cliche af, prequel to Thursday's Child Has Far to Go anthology, dilf!jeonghan, uncle!wonwoo (he's engaged LOL), part university!au, mild E2L (they're not really enemies, but OC definitely trying to stay AWAY from Jeonghan at first), one-sided turned mutual pining

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of food/alcohol, mildly suggestive (they just kiss and jeonghan likes skinship), reader is shorter than jeonghan, jeonghan changes hair color a couple times, wonwoo just swallows food without chewing like a maniac, proofread but not well, there are inconsistencies between this and easter egg's dropped about their relationship in other fics (i will fix that some day!)

wc: ~14.6k

A/N: I had so much trouble posting this T^T First long fic in a while🫶🏻 It's not my best story nor is it that deep, but made me feel all sorts of giddy 💞 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing!

“So,” Leah starts with her mouth half-full, capturing the table’s attention. She’s quick to cover her lips and swallow her food before continuing. “I’m curious,” she points between Jeonghan and you, “How’d you two end up together? As long as I’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve been married.”

Immediately, Wonwoo snorts, nearly spitting out his dinner on his friend sitting across the table. Jeonghan scorns in disgust, frowning, offended as to why Wonwoo finds his fiance’s question amusing. In contrast, you seem to lose your appetite, silver fork clattering against your half-filled ceramic plate. You grow quiet, straightening your spine and avoiding eye contact like you were back in middle school, caught red-handed with a confession letter to your crush. 

“I honestly thought she was going to end up with Baekho – she loathed Jeonghan with a passion,” Wonwoo chuckles to himself as he redirects his chopsticks at your husband. “But Jeonghan knocked her up – that’s what happened.” 

“Okay,” Jeonghan is quick to defend. He sighs, shooting Wonwoo a bored, but annoyed look, “That’s not what happened – do you have to put it that way?” 

The other man only shrugs his shoulders, raising his palms to the sky playing innocent and oblivious. 

Leah’s eyes flicker back and forth between you and your husband, then sweet Nina. Leah’s innocent smile slowly fading as you neither confirmed or answered. She isn’t aware that this was a sensitive topic for you and Jeonghan, and the last thing she wants to do is offend her fiance’s friends! The two of you just seem to get along so well and so in love, for lack of a better description, it’s hard for Leah to imagine much malice as to how you met and got together. Yet, this raises the additional worrisome, unfounded suspicion: Did you and Jeonghan just get married out of convenience?

No – that couldn’t be! Wonwoo is a sensible man; he wouldn’t be laughing if it was a pitiful marriage of convenience. 

“She didn’t hate me,” Jeonghan starts to explain. 

“She blocked your number after the blind date,” Wonwoo interjects. 

You met during a blind date?

“It wasn’t even our blind date,” Jeonghan quickly shoots back. He clenches his jaw, clearly getting fed up with Wonwoo’s teasing. 

This is certainly interesting for Leah . . . Jeonghan frequently annoyed Wonwoo, not that the latter gave the older gentleman the reaction he wanted, but it is rare to see Wonwoo get under Jeonghan’s skin. 

“It wasn’t, which makes it all the funnier,” Wonwoo comments, “In fact, she was technically,” Wonwoo holds his fingers up in air quotes, “‘my blind date.’”

“I was merely doing you a favor by tagging along – and it was free food!” you finally exclaim, frowning at Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo waves you off, smirking, “Jeonghan was down bad.”

Confused, Leah holds up a hand to silence the bickering. She shakes her head, “Wait, wait, wait – please start from the beginning. I didn’t grow up with you guys, so I’m so lost.”

Like those corny rom-coms, you and Jeonghan turn to look at each other at the same time, exchanging a knowing, tired look. There’s a bashful tinge to your expression; interestingly, the corner of Jeonghan’s lips quirks up in a crooked, smug smile. 

Sure, you may have resisted (NOT hate) him at first, and Wonwoo can make fun of him all he wants, but it’s Yoon Jeonghan who won in the end. 

After all, you're sitting next to him at the dinner of your shared home as his wife and Nina's mom after all.

. . . . 

The day was near perfect for Wonwoo. 

His morning coding lecture was canceled, so he got to sleep in. Though there was a pop quiz in his Operating Systems class, he passed with flying colors for once. Wonwoo only had two classes today, finishing in the early afternoon, leaving the rest of the day to his leisure. He decided to celebrate by treating himself to some fancy coffee from the new bougie cafe that opened on the edge of campus before meeting up with a friend for a quick study session. Now, Wonwoo wasn't some latte snob, but there was something pleasant and relaxing about taking a quiet stroll around campus with his Airpods plugged in and an overpriced hot brew with several scoops of sugar and multiple pumps of mocha syrup in his hand. The weather on this autumn day was also just right – not too cold that he needed a windbreaker, but not too warm that his green and orange plaid flannel and yellow beanie combo didn’t make him sweat buckets. 

All was wonderful: It was just him and his overpriced bougie sweet sludge of caffeine. Indeed this campus was huge and he was surrounded by so many students rushing to class or laughing with their friends on the grass instead of studying; however, he felt anonymous and loved it. No one minded him, no one dared to bother him–

“Hey!” a familiar crack of a shrill interrupts IU’s sweet voice streaming through his ear piece. It’s accompanied by a bony and heavy hand clamping onto his shoulder, nearly yanking Wonwoo back and tumbling onto his ass if he didn’t catch his footing. 

Annoyed, Wonwoo pulled out his earbud and turned to face his menace of a friend: Yoon Jeonghan. He was panting, chocolate brown hair stuck to his forehead by sweat and sticking out in funny directions in the gentle breeze, as if he had been chasing Wonwoo for several minutes. 

“Why are you out of breath?” Wonwoo deadpanned. 

“I’ve been,” Jeonghan sucked in breath, “Running,” he heaved again, “After you! Calling your name! How loud is your music? God – you’ve been spending too much time with Hansol.” Jeonghan adjusted the straps of his backpack, making a point to roll his shoulder back dramatically. 

“Sorry,” Wonwoo muttered, fingers tapping his screen to pause his music. “Um, what do you need? Can I help you?” He cleared his throat, keeping eye contact with Jeonghan as he took a sip of his coffee, presuming it cooled down by now. 

“Go on a date with me,” Jeonghan said.

Wonwoo choked, the mocha liquid spilling from between his lips, accidentally spraying the hem of Jeonghan’s gray t-shirt.

“Wonwoo!” Jeonghan screamed, jumping back. 

The said man was quick to dab his lips with the back of his hand, coughing in the process. 

“What the fuck, dude!” Jeonghan groaned, brushing at his shirt. “Good thing I didn’t wear white today.”

“I’m sorry, but what?” Wonwoo exclaimed. A few passing students throw confused glances in their directions. Wonwoo lowered his voice and quickly added, “Look – I know we’re good friends and I like you – as a friend, and I respect you, but I don’t swing that way.”

Probably thirty seconds passed by as Wonwoo waited impatiently for his friend to explain his request further. Jeonghan’s expression only grows unreadable, his brows softening as he let’s go of his shirt, lips drooping into a frown. Taking Wonwoo by surprise, Jeonghan roughly grabbed Wonwoo’s wrist and pulled him close. He tried to pull back, but for a twink, Jeonghan’s grip was strong.

“I’ve loved you for so long! I can’t believe you won’t–” 

Thwack!

“Hey!” Wonwoo’s hands come flying to the back of his head at the pain shooting up neck. 

“No, you dumbass!” Jeonghan finally sounding like himself again, “I’m asking you to come on a blind date with me – to keep me safe and keep me company, of course. Save me when I give you the look.”

“The look?” Wonwoo asked, still rubbing the base of his head.

“You know,” Jeonghan widened his eyes and clenched his jaw, extending his neck like a giraffe. “That look.”

“Right,” Wonwoo replied slowly – as if he knew what that meant. He waved his friend off. “Sorry – I can’t though. I also don’t want to third wheel.”

“Why not!” Jeonghan groaned. 

“I’m busy.”

“Aren’t we all?” 

“I’m meeting a friend.”

“Bring your friend!” Jeonghan grabbed Wonwoo’s arm desperately, “Or anyone really. Please! I just don’t want to go on this date alone.”

“You hit me – why would I?” Wonwoo teased back. “Also, why’d you agree to the blind date if you don’t want to go?”

“I owe it to Seungcheol,” Jeonghan groaned. “I’m going in his stead – something having a girl.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo nodded, the pieces coming together. The two friends were close and had a history of exchanging blind dates and sending one versus the other – a weird pact they developed in their freshman year of university. He suddenly scrunched his brows together, a new question forming on the tip of his tongue. “Wait – Seungcheol has a girl?”

Jeonghan doesn’t seem to care, however. “So?” 

“So?” Wonwoo repeated back, confused 

“I’ll pay for food,” Jeonghan offered. 

As if on cue, Wonwoo’s stomach growled. The two of them peer down at his abdomen, then back at each other. He was a growing, but broke college student – his fridge didn’t contain much yesterday, and even less today. 

Rubbing his belly, he replied quietly, “I guess I can think of someone.”

“Great!” Jeonghan brightened immediately. “7PM, tomorrow – don’t be late!”

. . . .

[Wonwoo]: Want free food?

. . . .

[Y/N]: This is NOT what I envisioned when you said ‘free food’ >:(

Pushing his black-rimmed spectacles up his nose bridge, Wonwoo looked up at his phone, offering you a sheepish, but apologetic smile, from across the table. He gave you a small shrug, scrunching his lips and bowing his head slightly to silently say ‘sorry.’ The sincerity of his apology doesn’t seem to go through though, as you only sigh heavily and roll your eyes. 

Violently, you stabbed your wooden chopstick into the pork belly sizzling in front of you. Not minding to blow at it, quickly, you stuck in your mouth, instantly regretting your decision, of course as the heat burnt a piece of your tongue. You jolted a little, eyes beginning to water.

And then, he does it – again. 

Sleeves of his brown sweater rolled up to his elbow, he reached over the steaming grill and placed a freshly refilled, full glass of ice water in front of you.

Hand hovering over your lip, your eyes flicker to Jeonghan. Lips pressed into a thin, but genuinely warm, crooked smile, his deep brown eyes, once round curves into half moons under the overgrown bangs of his soft cool brown hair (which was growing blotchy and brassy, if you might add). Though you were curious why he looked at you with such disgusting saccharine dripping from his eyes that may or may not have made you feel some type of way, you don’t let your gaze linger for long to figure out why. You were quick to turn your shoulder towards him, covering your steaming mouth and concentrating on a crack in the old oak windowsill. 

It had been like this since five minutes into the (now that you know) double blind date. You’re not sure how the seating arrangement ended up this way when you and Wonwoo were just here in support, but Jeonghan sat next to you, Dami across from you, and Wonwoo diagonally position. His date, Dami, sat across from him, but Jeonghan seemed to pay minimal mind to her, answering her questions politely, but vaguely. 

Perhaps you were just thinking too much about it, but Jeonghan was paying more attention to you. He laughed a little too loud at your blunt remarks, you caught him staring in your direction one too many times, and was a little too attentive at what was in your bowl. You made a point to ask Wonwoo about it after. 

The gestures seemed sweet until you took a step back and got a larger view of the situation: Two facts were certain.

One – You weren’t close with Jeonghan despite sharing Wonwoo and a few others as a mutual friend. Yet his reputation was notorious as it was confusing. Neither quite the fuck boy nor the campus hearthrob (that title belonged to his friend, Seungcheol), Yoon Jeonghan was a silent menace to collegiate society. He was gorgeous – a deep set of dark brown eyes framed by long velvet lashes, his features were gentle, yet somehow dynamic and sharp. His warm smile ignited hearts across campus, but no one dared confess to him: His intentions (or the lack thereof) were known far and wide: Yoon Jeonghan did not date. He was cordial, perhaps sometimes a mischievous flirt if bored, but his true kindness did not go out easily. It was not known why he didn’t date, a man that beautiful could snatch someone up with a bat of his lashes and flick of his finger. Some of your friends had said he had a long distance girlfriend on the other side of the country, others have proposed he was afraid of commitment and a closet fuck boy – kept his flings under wraps. He was close with the soccer team after all. 

With all of this “knowledge” about him in mind, that led you to the second point: Jeonghan was Dami’s blind date. There’s a piece of you that is curious as to why Jeonghan agreed to a blind date with Dami – not in a toxic or jealous way of course. Her jet black hair trimmed into a short, messy but stylish shag bob, her features resembling that of a wide-eyed kitten, Dami was indeed cute. You didn’t know much about her, however; no money to her name, she wasn’t particularly popular or desired in that way on campus, did not participate in sports or clubs, and you’re not even sure how she was linked to Jeonghan in the first place. 

Perhaps this was Dami’s big love story: the campus enigma takes interest in an ordinary girl and whisks her away to live an adventurous life after graduation. 

The catch though?

Dami didn’t seem interested in Jeonghan at all. 

In fact, hearts were literally shooting out of her eyes at Wonwoo. 

“So, uh,” Dami cleared her throat, her eyes flickered up to Wonwoo then you before returning back to the boy on her side. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she asked, “Are the two of you . . .?”

Wonwoo choked on his lettuce, followed by your awkward cough. Much to both of your surprises, Jeonghan also nearly spat out his water at Wonwoo. A moment of silence at the table lingered, the three of you glancing at each other, while Dami sat back in her seat trying to make sense of the situation; though frankly, you and Wonwoo were equally confused as to why Jeonghan reacted so volatilely too. 

“We’re just friends,” Wonwoo finally piped up. He cleared his throat, dabbing the invisible stain in the corner of his lip with the napkin. 

You nodded vigorously in confirmation. 

“Oh? Okay,” Dami said softly, a little breathless. There’s a small twitch of the corner of her lip, threatening to stretch into a grin, but she caught herself, offering the table a tight smile instead. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jeonghan visibly relax, quietly returning to the meat grilling in front of him. 

The rest of the dinner proceeded without any choking mishaps – it was fairly nice, honestly. You decided that you actually really liked Dami. Despite her cat-like appearance and coy nature, she was lively and innocent. Her crush on Wonwoo was evident and you found it endearing, though your friend might not. 

In regards to Jeonghan, his nonchalant, yet caring nature carried on throughout the night; it even got Wonwoo raising his brows curiously. You do your best to not pay mind to him, but every now and then, you find yourself heating up at the sound of his deep laughter.

After bidding the pair goodbye and exchanging phone numbers with Dami, you and Wonwoo set off for your shared apartment complex. You lived in the same building, him on the second floor, you on the fourth floor. 

Unable to contain your curiosity much longer, you check behind you to make sure Jeonghan is a good distance away before nudging Wonwoo’s elbow. He looked at you, unamused, silently asking you what you wanted. 

You began, “Hey, this is a weird question and I know you were just there for moral support and free food, but did you get the feeling that Jeonghan–” 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo confirmed, already knowing the answer to your unfinished question. You stutter in your steps, putting you a few feet behind him. Wonwoo continued forward, showing no signs of slowing down for your confused state. He hollered back, “He’s definitely into you.”

It made you feel some type of way, but you can’t decide if it’s a good type of way or you didn’t like it all together. Your heart beats funny for the first time in years – it was reminiscent of when you developed a crush in middle school, but different due to the uncertainty of this feeling. Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo’s comment made you come to a halt altogether, quietly contemplating in the middle of the sidewalk while strangers walked around you. 

As if on cue, just as Wonwoo noticed your absence lingering behind him, he turned to find Jeonghan actually running willingly, fast approaching behind you. He touched your elbow, interrupting your daze and you turned around slowly to greet him. Wonwoo can’t make out your expression, but he could only imagine, you looked lost like a guppy in the sewers. On the other hand, Jeonghan’s expression was very visible and clear: his friend was beaming; subtly in his smiles and soft in his eyes, but beaming nonetheless. 

One would think Jeonghan had something important to tell you given the way he sprinted nearly a block to catch up to you, heaving between words, but his message was rather simple. 

“It was really nice meeting you, Y/N.”

Yet, for some reason, it made all the impact. 

. . . .

“Please!” Jeonghan hissed, stabbing Wonwoo’s side with the tip of his pencil. Wonwoo winced away, shooting daggers in his friend’s direction. He was trying to use this spare few hours between classes to study for his finals in the serenity and quiet of the library. His friends knew around this time of the semester, Wonwoo didn’t like to be disturbed, but it just so happened that Jeonghan had an urgent request, prompting him to track down the computer engineering major to his sacred, hidden spot of the law school library. “Can you give me her number? It’s not that hard!”

Though irritating, Wonwoo did find this version of Yoon Jeonghan was very entertaining as much as it was enthralling as Jeonghan never took this much interest in anyone or anything. He wanted to let his intrusive thoughts win and indulge in it. 

The two of you were like night and day. Whereas, you spoke your feelings, wants, and needs openly, Jeonghan never dared to do so. His requests were cryptic, embedded questions pertaining to the objective, rather than what his heart desired truly. You had your mind set on a goal; Jeonghan was one to flow and ebb with the waters of life. 

However, though neither of you knew it yet, there was a beguiling bone in the both of you. It depended on how it played out whether it’d unite the both of you or send you apart. At this point, it was unironically up to Wonwoo if he wanted to be the third player in this game. t

Wonwoo scoffed, shaking his head. 

“What?” Jeonghan frowned. 

“Do you want it that bad?” Wonwoo asked. He pressed his friend further. “And why?”

Jeonghan closed his mouth as quick as he opened it, retracting the rationale at the tip of his tongue. A good gambler never shows his cards first. His eyes flickered, contemplating his next few words more carefully before adjusting his posture and continuing. 

“Just because,” Jeonghan replied nonchalantly. 

Wonwoo chuckled, not surprised. 

“If you’re just going to fuck around with her heart, I’d rather not,” Wonwoo replied, shrugging. 

And it was true – you were the same age, but to some extent, you felt like a long-lost younger sister to Wonwoo. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan punched him lightly. There was a slight warning tone as he was frowning even more, well aware of what Wonwoo was referring to. Jeonghan has never bothered to clarify the rumors of his dating life, thinking it too much work, but that didn’t mean he liked them either. “You know that’s not true and I would never.”

“Then admit it,” Wonwoo shot back. 

“Admit what?!” Jeonghan flailed his hands wildly, earning a few dirty looks from the studious students a few tables away.  

“You want Y/N’s number because you’re interested.”

“Th-that’s not it,” Jeonghan muttered weakly. “I mean, yes? But also no? I just . . . want to know her better – you know, as a friend . . . first.”

Crossing his arm over his chest, Wonwoo nodded, feigning agreement. “Right, right.”

“Wonwoo,” Jeonghan protested. 

When he didn’t respond, Jeonghan groaned loudly, flopping back in his spinning chair dramatically. 

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll find someone else to give it to me,” Jeonghan threatened. 

“And risk other people questioning why you want to contact Y/N?” Wonwoo teased. He shot Jeonghan a shit-eating grin, “You know what they’re all going to think, right?”

“Jeon Wonwoo, when did you get so fucking irritating?” 

Wonwoo leaned forward, waving his finger for Jeonghan to get closer. The latter hesitated for a second before giving in. 

“If there’s one thing you should know about Y/N,” Wonwoo started in a hushed voice, “You’re not the first one to ask for her number.”

“So?” Jeonghan asked incredulously, “Why should that matter?”

“Just saying,” Wonwoo leaned back, resting his hands on the nape of his neck, “Don’t be surprised if she turns you down – she doesn’t like to mess around. She’s not really . .  . actively looking to date right now either, honestly. Something about careers and being her ‘me’ era.” At the time, Jeonghan wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was sure content with the way Wonwoo ripped a corner of his notebook and scribbled down your digits. “You should be grateful we’re friends – she asked me not to hand out her number the first time I gave it to Johnny Suh.”

He handed the scrap over to Jeonghan, who beamed as if it was the golden ticket from Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. 

May Yoon Jeonghan be the last to ask for your number. 

Wonwoo called after Jeonghan, “In return, all I ask is that you don’t tell Y/N you got the number from me.”

“Why?” Jeonghan asked, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder as he stood up from his desk. 

Wonwoo rubbed his neck sheepishly, tips of his ear turning red. “I also don’t want her passing out my number – it’s a pact we made, kinda.”

It all clicked for Jeonghan then, if not more. “Don’t worry,” Jeonghan waved, “I’ll send Dami a text.”

“Hey!”

. . . .

[Jeonghan]: Hey – this is Yoon Jeonghan :) 

[Jeonghan]: I got it from Wonwoo hehehe.

[Y/N Y/L/N]: ???

[Jeonghan]: Hello?

[Y/N Y/L/N]: [your message not delivered]

. . . .

You don’t hear from Jeonghan after the double blind date.

Not that you were anticipating it, but still– Wonwoo said he was into you and then he chased you down a block to tell you it was nice to meet you!

Ugh – the bar was so damn low. 

On the other hand, you do hear from Dami, the two of you quickly becoming better friends. She reached out to you on Instagram, playful chatter turning into occasional hangouts and then weekly coffee runs or walking to the general vicinity of your classes together in between lectures. You were suspicious at first, wondering if she was using you to get closer to Wonwoo, but her intentions seemed sincere. Indeed, she did ask about Wonwoo every now and then, eventually also asking if he was seeing anyone, you didn’t find it particularly annoying. She still wanted to be your friend and understood boundaries, choosing to admire from afar and up close when the opportunity presents. 

It also turned out that Wonwoo wasn’t the only one who sensed there was something up about Jeonghan at the blind date as Dami brought it up months later when you passed the barbeque restaurant where you all met that fateful day on a stroll. At this point, you’d like to think Jeonghan became a distant memory – just a fleeting interaction, but there are times that you do catch yourself wondering about him. You wonder what he’s up to, wonder if he’s gone on more blind dates, what would have happened if you were a little more forward and you reached out. 

“Oh,” Dami waved you off when you asked about how she got Jeonghan to agree to a blind date with her. “I was just as surprised as the rest of you – that blind date was actually supposed to be with Choi Seungcheol, but I’m not sure what happened. He’s cute, but Jeonghan’s not really my type.”

“I see,” you nodded, feeling a sense of relief for some weird reason. You snuggle your hands deeper into the pockets of your puffer jacket. 

A beat passed before Dami asked slowly, “Is Jeonghan your type though?”

You peer down at the shorter girl, quirking a curious eyebrow. 

“What?” she asked innocently. “It was totally obvious – he was head over heels for you.”

“As if,” you scoffed. “We literally just met that night.”

She bumped your shoulder lightly. “Ey, haven’t you heard of love at first sight?”

“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” you corrected her. “I hardly know him and vice versa; how is he supposed to like me already?”

“It’s just . . . a vibe, I guess,” Dami tried to reason, “He liked your vibe.”

“Very scientific,” you replied sarcastically.

“I’m just saying,” Dami shrugged, “I may be a hopeless romantic, but I’ve never seen Jeonghan act out like that before.”

“Did you know him prior?” you asked curiously. 

Dami hummed, tapping her finger to her chin. “I knew of him and I’ve seen him here and there, but I never talked to him like that. Our circles never really overlapped, other than Seungcheol. Knowledge by observation – Jeonghan’s not really . . . he’s . . . gosh, kind of hard to explain.”

“How so?” your interest was piqued. 

“I don’t know . . . the way he talks . . . it feels like he’s flirting with everyone, but it’s never serious and he’s actually not? You’d think with how playful he is, he’d be an asshole,” Dami fumbled with her words. 

You felt your heart sink a little. “So what I’m hearing is . . . this was probably lust at best.”

“No! With you, it was different though! Agh – fuck, wish I was better with words,” Dami protested. 

“Doesn’t sound different.”

“Is he your type though?” Dami pressed again, nonetheless. 

You took a moment to contemplate, head skimming through your celebrity crushes, things you liked in old exes, things you didn’t like as you learned, growing up. Again, you hardly knew Jeonghan, but you’re slowly starting to piece together the person he seemed to be. He was the kind of man your mother warned you about: good-looking, sweet with their words and actions, but unpredictable – in a bad kind of way. 

Eventually, you shook your head, letting out a heavy breath. “Not really – he’s . . . too pretty,” you replied, “Wouldn’t bat an eye on him if I saw him on the metro.” Your voice trailed off as you were not in a mood to explain yourself further. Despite the certainty in your voice, the answer didn’t seem to settle well into your body, making you feel squeamish, a heavy sensation landing in your chest.  

So what if Jeonghan wasn’t your type?

Dami hummed in understanding, “I can see that.” She kicked the ball of snow in front of her. “Well then, it’s a good thing you won’t see him again, right?”

“Right.”

“What is your type then?” Dami asked. She quickly added, “Just asking for funsies.”

You smiled, appreciative that she’d indulge in your delusions every now and then. 

Just as you parted your lips to start, a deep voice bellowed your name from afar in front of the both of you. Dami and you lift your heads from the icy pavement, to find a broad young man standing a few feet away. His jacket was unzipped, sweater hanging loosely from his shoulders, just enough so that you can see his tattoo peeking out from underneath the collar. He grinned wide, eyes turning into crescents under his thick brows, cheeks and the tip of nose pink. 

“B-Baekho,” you stammered. Your lips wobble nervously as if they couldn’t decide whether to smile or hide the way your heart fluttered at the sight of him. “Hey.”

Despite your long-time crush standing before you, you had to make a conscious effort to quell the lingering thoughts of Jeonghan in the back of your mind. 

. . . .

You were wrong – you would see Yoon Jeonghan again. 

You and Jeonghan shared more mutual friends than you had thought. 

It’s Soonyoung’s birthday party. You’re not sure why, Soonyoung was full of surprises, but he invited a handful of his friends out to the outdoor ice skating rink about half an hour from campus. The plan was to hang out there for the afternoon before returning to his apartment for an evening of festivities. 

Jeonghan had changed his appearance since you last saw him. His once dark brown hair was now bleach blonde – he’d grown it out, the dark roots peaking through, but the bright ends hung shaggily, skimming over his long velvet lashes. At the chalet while lacing up his skates, he still donned those skittish grins and playful smirks whenever he was teasing his other friends, elbowing them and throwing his head back in a deep laughter, in contrast to his soft voice most days. 

You do your best to avoid him, sticking close with Dami (Soonyoung let you bring a plus one) on the rink or choosing to sit close to Wonwoo who opted to stay inside and watch from the chalet. Dami does a pretty good job keeping you busy, anyhow – the girl could hardly skate, clinging onto the walls and calling for you every time you strayed too far. It was moments like this you were thankful your mother put you in ice skating for a brief moment in your youth before you vehemently quit in fourth grade, terrified by the stories of professional figure skaters needing hip surgery and waking up early every Saturday for lessons. It also seemed like Jeonghan was facing the same challenge with the birthday boy. Out of the corner of your eyes every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Soonyoung bent over at a 90 degree angle, hands outstretched clinging onto Jeonghan’s hands like his life depended on it. 

“Y/N!” Dami called for the umpteenth time that afternoon. “Y/N! Hey!”

You huffed, growing tired of slowing down for your friend. You loved her! Don’t get it wrong, it’s just you wanted at least one round, where you could whiz around the rink and awaken those skater muscles you once built. 

You spun around to face her, skating backwards. “Dami, I think we should get you one of those skating walkers–”

“No, you idiot!” she cried, pointing behind you aggressively, “Watch out!”

Her warning proved too late, however. By the time you faced forward again, you came crashing into a familiar blob of white puffer and a high-pitched, but husky shriek. A set of arms wrapped around your body and you curled yourself inwards, allowing yourself to take refuge into whoever had been your demise and your savior. Mittens clinging onto the slippery material of their coat, you squeeze your eyes shut, letting your fumbling feet still so no one tripped and you both fell. 

The both of you eventually hit the side of the rink, eliciting a quiet ‘umph’ from the mystery person. The trauma of the impact seemed to linger a little longer; you were afraid to open your eyes to see yourself sailing towards a whole crowd of people despite feeling yourself still. 

“Um,” the person shifted uncomfortably. They tapped your shoulder before trying to peel you off of them, “Y-you can let go.”

You peel your lids open, one by one, cautiously to make sure you were no longer moving. Eventually, you relax, pulling back a little – still holding on nonetheless. 

The person cleared their throat, prompting you to look up. 

Fuck.

Jeonghan gave you a tight lipped smile, “Hey.”

“Uh, hi,” you replied, awkwardly. 

“You can let go now,” he looked around, leaning back into the board, “People are staring.”

“Oh, right,” you pushed yourself back, letting your skates drift you away. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jeonghan pretended to be busy and brushed off the invisible wrinkles in his coat. 

A beat passed as he straightened out, catching your gaze and letting it linger. You feel your heartbeat hastened, his stare making you nervous and stirring up other feelings in your stomach, but you don’t dare look away – it was weirdly addicting. 

“Um well,” Jeonghan finally said, he nodded once, “It was nice seeing you around.”

You panicked, launching yourself towards him and catching his elbow. “Wait!”

Jeonghan threw you a confused look over his shoulder, quietly waiting for you to continue. 

“W-wait,” you whispered again under your breath. You inhaled harshly, eyes flickering up to meet him before dropping them to his black and white, scuffed rental skates. “D-do you maybe . . . wanna get hot cocoa?” You pointed back at the chalet and Jeonghan followed your mittens. 

He paused, expression unreadable. His brows knitted together, lips pressing into a thin line. He looks all over the place except for you, finally coming to a conclusion and answering, “Sure.”

“Cool,” you nodded.

He was the first to leave, skating towards the entrance of the rink. 

You followed quietly. 

Dami and Soonyoung watched from afar, both kneeling on the ice, one hand on the side board as their saviors left them to fend on their own. 

. . . .

The chalet was bustling with life: mothers with their young children in tow, friends bundled in layers as they waddled unsteadily in their skates towards the entrance, and others strewn across the wooden tables and benches. The young teens behind the cafe counter were certainly sweating away running between the cash register and the food warmers and coffee machines behind them. 

Jeonghan had graciously paid for your hot chocolates – not without a fight of course. You didn’t really want your drink to come with drinks attached. The two of you found a small table tucked away near the parking lot. It was a little quieter in this area, a little colder as well with the people coming and going. Nerves wracked your stomach as you tried to be as calm as possible, hopeful that he wouldn’t notice the regret lacing your entire body right now. You wonder if you got a concussion during that collision to even have the gall to invite him for a drink  after all these months. 

What would you even talk about? It’s not like your conversations during the double date were that deep. Let alone, who were you that he’d remember details about you?

The words exchanged between you and Jeonghan were far and few since the collision on ice – they were more so out of necessity. What you wanted to drink specifically, where you wanted to sit, be careful not to run into the kid whizzing across the chalet main floor. 

“You blocked my number,” Jeonghan blurted, interrupting your musing. You were only two sips into your hot chocolate, lips lifting off the rim of your white paper cup. He noted how the brown liquid faintly stained the rim where they once rested.

Jeonghan couldn’t hold it in much longer – the question was ruminating in the back of his mind for the past few months like an annoying fly they couldn’t swat in the house in the summer. He did his damn best to “let it go” like everyone said because “maybe it wasn’t meant to be.” However, it must mean something to have quite literally run into you now and you asked him to drink hot chocolate with you in the chalet, right? He wanted and needed to know your intentions.

Jeonghan watched you intently from the opposite side of the bench, your bustling surroundings melting away. You seemed to be in your own world, your silence ensuing. He noted how your left eyebrow twitched momentarily as if you were confused. It was quick to turn sly, your brow softening again, your lips curving into an amused smirk. It sent chills down Jeonghan’s spine to see your demeanor flip so quickly when you were coy moments earlier. Gears were turning – almost like you were plotting something. 

“And?” you asked, bringing up your paper cup of hot chocolate to your lips, the rim covering half of your face. 

Jeonghan snorted, shaking his head – the audacity!

“Yet, you’re asking to have a drink together?” Jeonghan continued. 

“How’d you get my number in the first place?” you asked instead. You raised a curious eyebrow. 

Jeonghan narrowed his gaze, setting his paper cup down roughly with a loud ‘clack’. The warm liquid sloshed around, threatening to spill over. “It’s rude to answer a question by asking another question.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning forward towards him as if to challenge him; pressing Jeonghan to answer your question rather than vice versa. However, what you didn’t know was that Jeonghan was a different breed of man. He did not fall easily under pressure in the presence of a woman he was attracted to – he could sit here in awkward silence as long as you wanted. 

You’re not sure how long this showdown actually lasted, losing track of time. Seconds to minutes past, your drinks turned lukewarm and condensation formed on the inside of the unfilled regions of the cup. Admittedly, Jeonghan did grow more frustrated with you; yet he remained hopeful you’d crack. No one could withstand the “Yoon stare,” as Seokmin had dubbed it a few months prior at a drinking party. Nonetheless, perhaps he was a masochist, because for some reason, he was enjoying the company of someone who could keep up with him. 

“Yah!” a shrill comes from across the room. 

It was only a matter of seconds before Soonyoung, tip of his nose pink, came stomping over, removed his waterproof glove, and smacked the back of Jeonghan’s shoulder. Dami wasn’t far behind, though less upset. She threw you a questioning look, one that told you that you were going to have to explain yourself afterwards. 

“And you!” Soonyoung pointed an accusing finger at you. He then pointed it back and forth between you and Jeonghan. “You both suck leaving us stranded and helpless on the ice! You know, a couple of twelve-year-olds had to help us off! Took us almost twenty minutes!”

You shot Soonyoung an apologetic look, muttering a quiet ‘sorry’ before he quipped again, asking, “Also, like . . .” His eyes darted at the cups of hot chocolate and the way you were arranged at the table. Pieces began to click together. “What is this?” he tried to sound angry, “A date or something? I didn’t even know you guys knew each other!”

“Yeah,” Dami piped up, “A date or something?”

You coughed at this, turning your head away from them. 

Jeonghan made a note of this, raising a curious brow, before turning to Soonyoung. He shrugged and answered, “Or something.”

“Ugh,” Soonyoung groaned, “So you guys are like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeonghan asked. 

Soonyoung opened his mouth to answer, but Dami was quick to cut him off, an agenda of her own brewing. “Soonyoung, wanna grab a bite? And maybe some hot chocolate? My treat? We can go sit by Chan and Wonwoo over there.”

“But–”

“Great!”

Dami winked at Jeonghan, quickly pushing the birthday boy away. 

Jeonghan was really curious now. He turned back to you, who was still pretending to be fascinated by the old linoleum floors and the tips of your worn winter boots. 

“Yah,” Jeonghan called. 

You looked up, lips pursed. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. 

“And you didn’t answer mine,” you replied. 

“Are you usually this irritating?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Jeonghan let out a huff, blowing his blonde bangs. 

You were reaching for your cup and started to rise from your seat. 

“Hey, where are you–”

“You look better with brown hair by the way,” you deadpanned. You pointed at your own head, “It looked . . . healthier that way.”

Those were your last words before you set off towards Wonwoo’s and Chan’s table to join the others. 

If you were just anyone, Jeonghan might have shot some sassy comment back at your insult.  However, like never before, Jeonghan suddenly became anxious – as if you were slipping away like a balloon streamer threatening to drift away from a child’s hand in a windstorm. He felt his heart beginning to race and tongue took control of him. He spun in his seat and blurted after you instead, “Will I see you again?”

You paused in your stride before throwing a confused and mildly annoyed look over your shoulder. Your expression was quick to shift though. A shit-eating grin slowly stretching across your face, you explained casually, “Life . . . is full of surprises, Yoon Jeonghan. Only time can tell.” You raise your cup towards him in a final salute. 

“Touche,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath. .

Jeonghan watched you settle next to Wonwoo, bumping shoulders with your friend who only shot you an annoyed look when he raised his head from his book. Pushing his black-rimmed glasses up his nose, he said something, eliciting a frown and sending you into a pout. It must’ve been a tease because Wonwoo started to chuckle. 

Suddenly, another figure entered the scene – a well-built young man, bundled in a navy blue parka that framed his figure in a masculine manner. He had a broad set of shoulders and a thin waist – oh, he definitely worked out. To make matters worse, he was handsome: a sharp jaw and slim nose, his eyes seemingly cold due to their shape, but his gaze, at least towards you, was soft and warm. A pair of matching navy blue earmuffs donned either side of his face; his hair was immaculately well-styled in a side slick despite the wind outside. Jeonghan wondered how much gel he must’ve used to keep it that way. The man greeted you with a few word, possibly a question to sit next to you as far as Jeonghan could tell, because you nodded and scooted over to make room for him. The young man is grinning, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, eyes curving into crescents and he settled in, shoulders bumping against yours. Wonwoo was smooshed up the side of the wall, seemingly displeased though continued to read uninterrupted. Jeonghan found it all the more interesting just how friendly and smiley you were with him relative to himself just moments earlier. 

Jeonghan would never admit it out loud, but it kind of . . . infuriated him? An unsettling feeling overcame his chest, Jeonghan unknowingly shifting in his seat, fingers crushing the paper cup of hot chocolate a little tighter.

“You’re jealous,” Seungcheol said, approaching his best friend behind. 

Jeonghan looked up then back to you. “Am not.”

“I saw you guys sitting together earlier,” Seungcheol remarked. 

“Yeah – she offered.”

“Oh?”

“But then totally blew me off.”

“Yet, all chummy with Mr. Broad and Handsome, over there,” Seungcheol spoke his mind. He chuckled like the asshole he could be.

“Shut up, will you?” Jeonghan snapped. 

“Jealous?” Seungcheol patted his back. 

“Am not!” Jeonghan screeched a little too defensively.

Seungcheol shook his head, doing his best to suppress his growing grin.

“Then answer me this,” Seungcheol started, “For some reason, despite not knowing much about her, despite her ‘blowing you off,’ there’s a piece of you that still wants to get to know her better. Am I right?”

Jeonghan paused for a moment, considering his friend’s words. Never had Seungcheol made him feel so conflicted. It wouldn’t make sense for him to want to get to know you better after that rude encounter, but the tension from earlier was . . . thrilling? Also, in your defense, you weren’t exactly intentionally rude – he had accused you first of flaking on him, still unclear if you actually did or didn’t. It was kind of addicting and a piece of him was curious as to how far he could push you and vice versa. 

An enigma he couldn’t resolve. 

“I-I guess?”

Seungcheol clapped suddenly, each one staccato and slow. “And so, Yoon Jeonghan meets his match.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jeonghan asked. 

Seungcheol shrugged, “You’ll see – only time can tell.”

That’s what she said. 

. . . .

“How did Jeonghan get my phone number?” 

“He did?”

“Apparently, he did – but I didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.”

Wonwoo shrugged. 

“You said he was into me.”

“What about you? Are you into him?”

Silence.

. . . .

It’s the early spring, a month before graduation, when you see each other again – much to Jeonghan’s dismay. 

Many things have changed, one of them being that Dami and Soonyoung started dating a couple of weeks after their traumatic encounter on the ice. They’re sickeningly cute, but the important thing was that they made so much sense. Though they were still early on in their relationship, it could very well just be the ‘honeymoon phase,’ but fights were far and few between. They were two wholesome souls with hardworking drives, lifting each other up, yet also somehow knowing what the other needs. All it took was a simple glance from across the room, Jeonghan would imagine some sort of telepathy going on between them before Soonyoung waddled over Dami and whispered a few words to her, her glum expression brightening instantaneously and vice versa.

Even Jeonghan couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at the sight of them. A part of him was envious. Not in a toxic sense, but also longing when he’d meet his soulmate like that – not that he was some hopeless romantic and believed in soulmates or anything (he’d like to think had some agency in choosing his partner, rather than leaving it up to the good old hands of fate), but there was a nice feeling to the thought of being with someone who just got you like that. 

Many things had also not changed, the main one being his perennial quest to get close to you. 

Or perhaps rather, the lack thereof. 

Jeonghan spent the last several months debating if he should contact you again. You blocked his number; would it be right of him to slide into your Instagram DM’s? You didn’t follow one another, however, which made things all the more complex.

Yet, your last few words lingered in the back of his mind: Life is full of surprises, Yoon Jeonghan. Only time can tell.

What did that even mean? Were you hinting at him to pursue you? Was that your way of avoiding him?

Ironically, Jeonghan relented and decided to leave this up to fate. Seungcheol urged him to reach out to you, claiming the worst thing you could say to him was ‘no’, but Jeonghan wasn’t sure he could handle that currently – not when you left off on such a weird note. 

Maybe whatever gods out there were on his side, however, because Jeonghan ran into again at a karaoke bar. The two of you had more mutual friends than you thought – or rather really, you ended up being Wonwoo’s plus one to all these things, showing up glued to his hip. 

Neon color lights dance across the dark room with tacky, faux leather orange benches, as Minghao and Seokmin sing a trot rendition of Beyonce’s ‘All the Single Ladies,’ the latter somehow acquiring a sogo drum and beating an out of tune rhythm across the room. You were tucked away in a corner wedged in between Wonwoo and that handsome man from the chalet again. Despite the lively energy, you were only quietly swaying, seemingly lost in another world. The handsome man (Jeonghan had come to learn that his name was ‘Baekho’) whispered something in your ear every now and then, maybe checking up on you, but you’d only respond with a tight smile, quick to divert your eyes from him to your hands. Jeonghan couldn’t decide if it was out of coyness or you weren’t truly up to being here tonight. 

Jeonghan didn’t try to sit next to you when he arrived. For one reason being he’d arrived late so you were already settled and didn’t pay mind to him. The other reason being he didn’t want to raise suspicions trying to wedge himself between you and Baekho. 

Just what was exactly your relationship with Baekho? With how he seemed to whisper so tenderly to your ear, Jeonghan was almost inclined to think you were dating, but your eyes seemed so . . . hollow? It wasn’t quite the same as the way Dami’s orbs lit up when she saw Soonyoung. 

“Quit staring,” Seungcheol elbowed Jeonghan, interrupting his musing. Jeonghan winced, shooting Seungcheol a dirty look. 

“I wasn’t,” Jeonghan remarked. 

Seungcheol waved off his friend. “You should go talk to her – or at least say ‘hi.’”

“And why would I do that?” Jeonghan retorted stupidly, instantly regretting the words that just spewed from his mouth. 

His best friend gave him an incredulous look. “This is the first time you see her in months and that’s what you’re telling me? Please! You’re about to burn holes into Baekho’s head with those laser eyes of yours – no one is not not noticing the way your eyes keep lingering over to them.”

“Who am I to interfere with whatever they have?” Jeonghan waved his hand at some abstract object in the air as if it represented your relationship with Baekho. 

“Yoon Jeonghan – that’s who,” Seungcheol shoved him roughly, nearly sending him sailing out of his seat. 

“Hey!” his footing stuttered and if it weren’t for his fast, he would’ve face planted into the table.

“Go!” Seungcheol hissed. 

Eyes were already starting to linger on Jeonghan, the young man having no choice but to play it cool like he was getting up to go somewhere. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught you looking at him momentarily, heating his spine up and making him feel stupidly giddy. He let out a quiet cough, relaxing his shoulder and slipping his hand into his jean pocket, stepping over people’s feet in your direction. 

If he can’t put himself between you and Baekho, he’ll just ask Wonwoo to scoot over – no biggie, right?

Jeonghan was only about two steps away when he opened his mouth to greet you. However, you were quick to ignore him, shifting out of your seat and pointed to the exit of the karaoke room, whispering something quick to Baekho. He stood up, making room for you to leave and you scurried towards the opaque door. 

Well, fuck.

 “Your luck is terrible,” Wonwoo remarked. He scooted over to make room for Jeonghan. With a heavy sigh, the bleach blonde man flopped into the empty spot. If the others weren’t now belting Justin Bieber at the top of their lungs, you would’ve heard the hard impact between Jeonghan’s body and this godly uncomfortable bench. 

“Well, gee – thanks, like I didn’t know,” Jeonghan replied sarcastically. 

“I’m . . . impressed, honestly,” Wonwoo crossed his arms over his chest. 

“About what?”

“You’ve never been hung up on someone for this long – let alone, not make a move,” Wonwoo explained further. 

“Well I mean, I kind of left a sour taste in her mouth,” Jeonghan noted. 

Wonwoo tilted his head to the side, glancing at his friend from the side. Jeonghan ceased to notice, both due to the way the light from the flat screen was dancing across his glasses and he was simply lost in his own heartsick musing. 

“What did you do?” Wonwoo asked carefully. 

“Didn’t she tell you?” Jeonghan scoffed. “I confronted her about her blocking my number.”

“She blocked your number?” Wonwoo said slowly – asking more than he was stating. 

Ugh – why was he was playing stupid? Jeonghan thought you were good friends!

“Yeah,” Jeonghan kicked at the linoleum with the toe of his sneaker. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

Wonwoo kept a straight face, only nodding. He quietly noted that maybe he just forgot – he was busy these days. However, what Jeonghan doesn’t know is that Wonwoo was finally and slowly putting all the pieces of your prefatory love story together.

Oh, how miscommunication was an amazing plot tool. 

“You should go check on her,” Wonwoo nudged Jeonghan after a moment. 

“Huh?” Jeonghan knitted his brows together. “Why?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “She’s been gone for a bit – said, she went to get air. Tell her I sent you.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes on his friend. Just what was he playing at?

Wonwoo leaned in close, “Or would you rather me ask Baekho to go check on her?”

That was the impetus Jeonghan needed, snapping out of his suspicious daze and getting up from his seat. 

It was now or never.

. . . .

You don’t seem to notice Jeonghan when he tumbled out the front door of the karaoke bar, leaning against the red brick wall, eyes trained up in the sky. Jeonghan looked up briefly to see what you were looking at, only to note the gray heavy clouds blocking the moon and the stars. The streets were starting to become more dynamic as people were filling up the streets. Young couples giggled, hand-in-hand, groups of friends bellowing out in laughter at inside jokes, while elderly shop owners pitched their tent – their grills starting to heat up the grease that were just slathered across them. 

Yet, you only continued to sigh and look at the sky, your vibe not quite matching the eccentricity of what was going on inside or outside. 

Jeonghan neared you, hands tucked in his jeans still, scuffing the dark pavement as he called out, “Hey.”

You look down and to the side at the sound of his voice. 

“Hi,” you greeted him with a tight smile before looking away. 

He teetered on the balls of his feet. “Whatcha doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you said. This sent Jeonghan back to your conversation at the skating chalet. However, your tone is less lively and playful this time – half-hearted. 

“It’s rude to answer a question by asking another question, you know?” Jeonghan joked. 

You chortled softly, “It wasn’t actually a question.”

Jeonghan took another step towards you, opting to stand a few feet away from you, side-by-side. “Same difference.”

Neither of speak further, letting silence envelope you both once more and suddenly it just felt like him and you in this little space despite the night coming alive around you. The silence is different this time though, in that rather than tension, there was comfort – a mutual, unspoken understanding that it was just needed. 

Jeonghan almost relished it, until his intrusive thoughts remembered–

“Wonwoo sent me to check on you by the way,” he blurted. 

You smile small, “That bastard.”

“Huh?”

You looked up at Jeonghan. “Well, you checked up on me,” you gestured back to the building behind you. “You can go back – I’m okay.”

Jeonghan cocked his head slightly at you, a crease forming between his brows as he takes you in. There was a bite to all your responses, but it lacked your usual flair. He’s not sure what it was exactly, but something told him maybe, you weren’t as okay as you led onto be. 

“What?” you asked when he didn’t reply or move. 

Sometimes, maybe it was better not to think too hard about it, Jeonghan decided. 

Maybe, he just needed to do what felt right. 

“Do you . . .” his voice trailed off as he hesitated for a moment, but he picked up right again. “Do you wanna go for a walk actually?”

You were taken aback, shoulders settling back and your faux smile falling into a small pout instead. 

Despite his cool and collected demeanor that he hoped he was displaying, in his head, he was quietly chanting, “Please say yes,” as if it was a mantra that would trance you into going on this walk with him. 

Maybe it does work, however, because even though you don’t say ‘yes,’ you take off in a direction without him. Jeonghan froze momentarily, in disbelief and relief, jaw slack and small breath escaping his lips. 

You must’ve sensed the lack of his presence behind you because you spin around, your jean pleated skirt twirling prettily in the process. 

Cocking your head at him, you simply asked, “Coming?”

Maybe, Jeonghan should leave it up to fate more. 

(Or just Wonwoo.)

. . . .

Fate was cruel. 

And Jeonghan was over dramatic and impatient – at least, in Seungcheol’s eyes. 

The walk that evening was rather uneventful, but it gave Jeonghan hope – so much damn hope. Initially, Jeonghan only tailed you until you asked him why he was doing that and he jogged to walk beside you. Naturally, your footsteps fell in sync, Jeonghan wondering if he was the only one who noticed. Far and few words were exchanged like at the skating center, but neither of you minded. Like prior, the silence was tranquil, bringing a sense of calm and comfort to the both of you. You seemed to relax, a genuine smile springing on your face as you passed various shops, eyes lighting up at the sight of the few bakeries and the few childish remarks of trinkets in the windowsill. 

To be frank, and Jeonghan wasn’t always, even with himself, you were fucking adorable – and he wanted to know this feeling more. This sensation that melted his heart every time his gaze flickered over to you, this joy that fills his body and courses through his veins; yet despite all this heart fluttering sensation, there was a sense of simplicity and effortlessness that accompanied it all. It made him feel like he could do this . . . for a long time. 

Maybe he was insane and beyond himself – he hardly knew anything about you, but he liked it. He wasn’t sure he felt this way before. He was a non-believer of love at first sight, but a piece of him wanted to defy this reality he knew. He wondered if this is how Soonyoung felt about Dami on the regular. 

Jeonghan doesn’t find out why you were feeling down earlier that evening. Jeonghan doesn’t ask to exchange Instagram’s with you. Jeonghan doesn’t ask when he will see you again because he knew he would – he had to. 

He reveled about you to Seungcheol. The short twenty minute walk felt like a lifetime; when it came to a halt and you arrived back at the karaoke bar and how he didn’t want to go inside, but he did anyway. He wondered what you did the next day and the day after. Did you go back to those bakeries with anyone? Did you buy that scarf you were eyeing through the clear glass?

But okay, maybe it was a mistake to leave it all up to fate. The thrill of it was quick to fade and entered misery and longing. 

Jeonghan didn’t meet you again until graduation.  

Countless, prolonged, corny speeches about the future and hard work given, long lines of people waiting for their empty diploma cases passed, a flurry of black caps thrown, tears cried, cheers shouted, and hugs exchanged later, Jeonghan spotted you in the middle of an aisle by yourself. You were waving good-bye to a classmate before you turned to walk down the path of green grass alone. Eyes trained on the ground, one foot in front of another, you unknowingly made your way towards him. There was a smalling, toothless smile on your face slowly fading with each step. 

You must’ve sensed his presence because you stopped a few feet away. The smile returned, making Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat. His face mirrored your own, the world seeming to fade around the both of you once again. 

“Hey stranger,” you quipped. He was holding his graduation cap in one hand. You note how his roots were showing, the bleach blonde growing and now shading over his eyes. 

“Hey,” he greeted. Folding his hands behind him, he took a few steps closer towards you. He tipped his head forward, “Congratulations.”

You saluted him and sent a playful wink in his direction. “You likewise.”

Jeonghan chuckled. His eyes wandered up to the sky a bit as his next question formed. How did he ask this without making it too obvious?

“What are your plans after all of this?” Jeonghan asked. He held his hands out, gesturing to the field of new graduates greeting their friends and family joyfully. 

“Um,” you chuckled, “Dinner with my family probably?” You scratched your head and looked around for them briefly before turning back to him. Your lips parted to ask ‘you’, but Jeonghan beat you to it.

“No,” Jeonghan chuckled, waving you off, “I meant like . . . future-future – career plans and all.”

“Oh,” you said, your voice much softer now. “That.”

Jeonghan tilted his head curiously. 

“I’ll be . . . around,” you pressed your lips together and chuckled softly, “Um . . . I’m honestly not sure – what I had planned, didn’t pan out.”

There was a flash of worry across your face – Jeonghan probably presuming you were thinking he thought you were pathetic and a failure. However, that was not how he felt. If anything, his heart panged for you a little. He didn’t claim to know what you were feeling, heck, he hardly knew much about you still – Jeonghan would like to think he knew a thing or two about disappointment. 

“C-can I?” he stammered. He opened his arms for you slightly, quietly asking for a hug. 

Your eyes widened. “U-um.” Your feet were already clumsily tripping over one another towards him though. 

Jeonghan pulled you in, your lips pressed into the shoulder of his graduation gown. Initially tense in his hold, with each breath, his woody cologne overwhelming your senses, the hug became more bearable . . . comfortable. You relaxed, bringing your hands up around his waist. You felt him patting your back gently as if to quietly reassure you. 

“The world doesn’t just end because one plan went awry,” he offered. 

You snorted and joked,  “Just what I needed – another speech on resilience.”

Jeonghan pulled away, grinning at you really hard. He could’ve sworn he probably looked like an idiot, but he didn’t really care – this could be the last time he saw you ever. 

“The world has a funny way of working out,” Jeonghan pressed on. “Fate . . . it isn’t too bad – most of the time.”

“Darling!” you heard your mother call from behind you. Instantly, your cheeks grew hot, already envisioning 101 scenarios as to how this conversation would go with Jeonghan meeting your family like this. Your mother in particular, was a fickle woman who had a lot of predictions. 

“There you are!” your younger brother jumped on you, hooking his arm around your neck. 

“Congratulations!” you heard one of your cousins shout as well, wedging celebratory balloons between you and Jeonghan. 

Jeonghan chuckled to himself. His heart sinking a little – maybe this is all you and Jeonghan would be to each other. 

“Who’s this, Y/N?” your mother asked, of course, first of all people and things. She gestured to Jeonghan. Her eyes were curious, scanning him up and down. 

Your younger brother released you and you straightened yourself out. You waved for Jeonghan to hold up his hand to greet your mom. 

“Mom, this is Yoon Jeonghan, my uh . . .” 

What were you two exactly?

“Friend,” Jeonghan finished for you. “Y/N’s friend – we met through Wonwoo.”

“Friend?” your mom repeated suspiciously. 

“Friend,” Jeonghan nodded in reassurance. 

“Friend,” you said again – it left a funny taste in your mouth though. 

“Well, pleasure to meet you,” your mom took his hand. Your dad, a kind, but quieter man, followed shortly after. 

After some small talk, Jeonghan excused himself from your family, explaining he needed to find his own. He gave you one last longing look when he said goodbye, sending you off with a small wave of his shoulder. It was accompanied by a tender smile; a bittersweet tint to his eyes. It made your heartache a little, a sense of panic overtaking you when your family pulled you away.

You decided, you didn’t want this to be the last time you saw Yoon Jeonghan. 

Yes, perhaps, he did mention moving to another city for his new job, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t want to lose this chance. 

You asked your cousin to lend you a pen and hastily rip out a scrap of the placeholder in your diploma (it wasn’t your actual degree anyways – that would be coming in the mail after your finals were graded). Quickly, you scribble your phone number onto it. Folding it up, you excuse yourself briefly from your family, not caring if your mom noticed and would lecture you later about how girls shouldn’t make the first move and that if Jeonghan liked you, he would’ve already asked you out. 

“Jeonghan!” you shouted. 

He turned around, a few steps away from who you presumed was his family. They also tuned in, eyes turning to observe the interaction. 

He was smiling, though evidently confused. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you marched towards him and held up the folded paper in your hand, gesturing for him to take it. He didn’t take it. His eyes only flickered from you then the paper, then back at you. 

When he doesn’t make a move, you reach for his wrist, pressing it into his palm and folding his fingers over, ignoring the way your cheeks felt ablaze.

“See you around, Yoon Jeonghan.”

. . . .

[Jeonghan]: You fucker

[Wonwoo]: Excuse me?

[Jeonghan]: [insert image]

[Jeonghan]: Your handwriting is HORRENDOUS!

[Jeonghan]: It was a 4 not a 6!

[Wonwoo]: LMAO

[Jeonghan]: Fuck you

[Wonwoo]: Hey – think of it as part of the plot. You’ll thank me later. 

[Jeonghan]: Whatever

[Wonwoo]: Well???

[Jeonghan]: ?

[Wonwoo]: Are you just gonna curse me or are you going to text her!?

. . . .

[Uknonwn number]: Hi 🙂

[Unknown number]: This is Yoon Jeonghan – please don’t block me!

[Unknown number]: . . . um hello?

[Unknown number]: omg did i fuck this up again

[Y/N]: [your message not delivered]

[jeonghan]: well fuck. 

[Y/N]: Haha – jk. 

[Y/N]: Hi Jeonghan 🙂

. . . .

You and Jeonghan found yourselves texting daily and calling nearly nightly. It started out as simple banter, but evolved to mundane questions of what you ate for lunch to 3AM discussions ranging anywhere from your post-bac thesis to whether straws had one or two holes. 

The calls at night were short on the weekdays, but they were disgustingly long on the weekends. Rather than going out on Friday nights, Jeonghan would make excuses to not go to the bar with his new colleagues as to just be able to talk with you on the phone for hours and hours. At some point, they caught on that Friday nights were reserved for you, teasing him about the much anticipated call as they left the office. Jeonghan being the seemingly transparent and nonchalant man he is, just chuckled and brushed it off. 

Typically, he’d give you a ring around 8PM on FaceTime. He’d watch you cook, maybe even eat his delivery while you ate dinner, and you’d talk for hours thereafter about everything and nothing into the early morning hours, only stopping when you drifted off to sleep or he claimed he was aging prematurely and was tired. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you whispered into your phone one evening. His end of the call was already dark, only a lamp in the distance illuminating his features. You peaked up to see him keeping one eye open underneath his bed of hair that was an ashy sombre now, blending his dark roots with a more neutral blonde. 

He hummed softly, signaling he was still there. “Technically, you just did.”

You chortled. “Prick – maybe I won’t.”

“I’m kidding,” he raised his head to look at you. Sleep was heavy on his eyes, his lids weighing down. “What’s up?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you decide to forgo the question that has been haunting you recently. You opt to redirect the conversation in another direction instead. 

“I got an internship,” you told him. 

This truly woke him off. “What? Y/N, that’s amazing! Congratulations! Where at?”

“Park Consultants,” you told him, “But, I’m not sure I should take it.”

“Love, what?” Jeonghan said, confused.

You pretend to bury you face in frustration, but you were really trying to hide the way your lips wobbled at the nickname: Love. 

When did the two of you get this far?

Despite things going well between you and Jeonghan, there were always those thoughts that lingered in your mind. 

It was clear, there was nothing ‘just platonic’ about your relationship, as Wonwoo had pointed out several times. “Just get married already!” he’d joke. 

Yet, the unconventional nature of it, made you wary. 

It was only when Jeonghan moved away did the two of you become closer and it didn’t sit well with you. You remember vehemently telling Dami you couldn’t do long distance relationships – you had trust issues and were the jealous type. Yet, here you were glued to your phone most times of the day you weren’t working to talk to him. Your perspective of him was limited to a small rectangular screen – was he really who he presented himself to be? Your mother had always warned you about men like Jeonghan too – charming and playful with a smooth tongue, but snakes behind your back. You wondered if he was seeing someone else. In technicality, it was within his right; the two of you weren’t anything in particular. She also told you once that girls should not initiate, but be pursued – at least from graduation on, that was definitely not your story. 

“I wonder,” you stabbed your wooden spoon into your ice cream turning to Wonwoo, “Could it be that I just . . . like him because he reassured me at my lowest?”

You and Wonwoo had met up for ice cream. Tonight, Jeonghan’s family was visiting him, so he had told you ahead of time he couldn’t call as he would be spending time with him. The topic of you and Jeonghan resurfaced and you needed a reasonable sounding board. 

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo sniffled, feeling the tip of his nose grow cold from the chilled treat. 

“I just don’t want to end up being one of those girls who fall for someone because he was like, my ‘knight in shining armor’ who whisked me away when I was a damsel in distress,” you explained. “Graduate school didn’t quite pan out – I had just gotten rejected when we went on that walk that night we went to the karaoke bar and then graduation. I’m just worried I’m swooning for the wrong reason. I don’t want my relationship to be hinged on pity and depending on him.”

Wonwoo snorted, much to your surprise. Your expression was quick to change into a scowl. “What?”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” Wonwoo pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose. “When were you ever a damsel in distress? And if anything, Jeonghan was never and will never be anyone’s knight in shining armor.”

“I don’t think you get it,” you muttered, picking at the clump of cookie dough. 

“Yes,” Wonwoo swallowed the ice cream left in his mouth before continuing. “You may have met him at your lowest, but that’s not what matters. He didn’t save you and you didn’t save him. Neither of you needed saving to begin with – you’re both capable of picking yourselves up in the situation as shown.” Wonwoo held out his hands, “The way I see it, he was the first person you could readily be vulnerable with and that is what matters. Someone you feel safe with – amidst other things of course. Y/N you could hardly meet up with me that week and Jeonghan did it in the matter of seconds. I think that says something.”

“But you know, my mom said–”

“Fuck what your mom says – trust yourself for once, okay?” Wonwoo rolled his eyes. To his defense, you’ve spiraled about your mother’s expectations for you to him many times before and it was tiring. It was rare that Wonwoo just swore like that. “Maybe he’s not the stellar, perfect future son-in-law she has preached your entire life, but that’s okay. Trust him – trust Jeonghan. Despite his annoying antics sometimes, he’s a good guy – he’s always been. If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out.”

. . . .

Jeonghan returned to the city almost a year and a half later for the holidays. The both of you try to arrange for plans to meet up, but in the spirit of the holiday season, timing doesn’t quite work out right due to family. Jeonghan invited you to his family Christmas party, but you suddenly became bashful, unsure of how he’d introduce you to his immediate family, let alone his cousins, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. 

Friend? Girlfriend? Friend girl?

You declined politely, explaining to him it was too overwhelming. Gratefully, Jeonghan was understanding, promising to stay in town a little longer after the New Year’s for you – it made you feel all weird and tingling inside. 

Like you were special. 

Nonetheless, you were fated to meet once more before that as Minghao and his now fiance threw a New Year’s Eve party at his penthouse and you were both invited. You were unsure if Jeonghan would make it, however, as he mentioned his younger sister had a small celebration she wanted him to attend. You end up third wheeling Soonyoung and Dami to the party as Soonyoung offered to drive, but mingle amongst the others. 

Just as you’re finding yourself getting more immersed in your conversation with Seungcheol and his girlfriend, the lighthearted and drunken banter regarding his tattoo experience was interrupted by a nerve wracking, but familiar, presence. Someone’s hand slipped around your waist, a warmth blooming across your body, the silver long-sleeved dress seemingly not so warm. Smile fading, you turn to the figure standing in the once empty spot on your left to find Jeonghan occupying the space with a playful smirk stretching from ear-to-ear. He gives Seungcheol an apologetic look and then pulls you closer into his side. The latter grinned, raising his cup in greeting and a silent good luck.

Despite his flirtatious advances, there was a glint of alarm and plea in his eyes. Your lips parted to question him, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, Jeonghan leaned forward, turning his head to better dip into the junction of your neck and shoulder. Whether it was intentional or unintentional, his lips grazed against the shell of your ear. The waft of soju about him stung your nose; the warm, small breeze from his small, hesitant breath made you shudder. You gripped your own red solo cup a little tighter, crinkling the edges in the process. 

There was no ‘hello’, ‘I missed you’, and no wave. He simply leaned in and asked, “Dance with me?” His voice was low, loud enough just for you to hear as if he was sharing a secret no one else dares to know. 

He was wiggling his eyebrows playfully when he pulled back to look at you. The way he tugged you towards the crowd in the living room, fingers hooking tightly with yours, told you there really wasn’t a choice. 

Whether you want to or not, you were going to dance with him. 

Jeonghan handed off his red solo cup to a random presumed man standing by, chatting up a girl in a strapless silver mini dress. The stranger looked confused, but Jeonghan didn’t mind – his eyes were trained on you, as if you were the only person in the room. The bodies bumping into him didn’t seem to bother him; his grip on your hand was unrelenting, fearful to lose you amidst the sea of intoxicated party goers. His roguish expression made your breath hitch; you had to consciously remind yourself to breathe. 

Your musing was interrupted by Jeonghan’s sudden pull. Swiftly, your feet tumbled over one another and before you could register, you were flushed against his chest. Jeonghan brought up his hand, ghosting against the small of your back until his arm is fully wrapped around your waist.

“What are you doing?” you muttered, pressing a hand to his chest. 

He grinned like you were the only thing at this party that brought him joy.

“That’s no way to greet a friend after so long,” Jeonghan frowned. 

“Neither is sleazily dragging me onto the dance floor,” you faked a pout, “Consent in this day and age is sexy, Jeonghan.”

“Like you’d say no to dancing with me,” he teased. “But if you insist,” he stepped back and gave you a knowing look. “Would you like to dance with me, Miss Y/N?”

You giggled girlishly, nodding and extending an arm for him to come back. 

He had a point – you’re not sure what you wouldn’t let Jeonghan do at this point. 

The music suddenly slows, the fast and heavy beat melding into something mellower. 

Fate was cruel, but sometimes, it was nice. 

(Or maybe Wonwoo just requested Jihoon to DJ a slower song – just a thought.)

“How’ve you been?” Jeonghan finally asked. He peered at you, the lights bouncing off his dark irises. His steps slowed and you followed, rocking from side to side to meet the new rhythm. 

“You ask that as if we don’t talk every day,” you remarked. You’re embarrassed, nonetheless, turning your head so you don’t meet his eyes. 

“It has been precisely fourteen days and,” Jeonghan peered at his watch quickly, “twelve-ish hours since we last talked on the phone. A lot can happen in that time.”

“Yeah?” you challenged. “Such as?”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully as he came to a halt. Hand slipping down to link with your own, he ran his thumb across your knuckles as he finally caught your gaze. You were nervous – or maybe, it was just the champagne coursing through your veins. Your eyes were blown wide and glossy, breathing shallow. You were still, holding your arms close to your body. He did wonder if there was a piece of him that fucked up. 

“Could I show you instead?” Jeonghan asked. 

He didn’t wait for an answer, only holding onto your hand firmly and weaving in and out of the crowd until you met a set of stairs that led you to the top floor of the penthouse. 

Oh my god . . . he wouldn't, right?

Jeonghan moved to a room on the left, twisting the pearly white knob, and pausing briefly to make sure it was empty before entering. 

He pulled you in, shutting and locking the door behind you. It was dark – only the city lights and slivers of the waxing moon slipping through the murky white tulle curtains. It lit up a slit from the large balcony window, tracing a path to Jeonghan and you, who were now pressed up against the door. 

He was awfully close – one tip of your chin and your lips would touch. 

Wait – what!?

Why were you thinking about kissing him?

The franticness of it all must’ve been evident on your features, Jeonghan’s sly grin only growing further, eyes curving to mimic the moon. There was a wink of light in his dark brown orbs – warm, mischievous– before he pushed away, tucking his hands into his suit pants. 

“Just kidding,” he finally quipped.

You let out a small breath and ease away from the door. 

He pointed a teasing finger at you, “You were flustered, weren’t you?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. Your palms grew sweaty and the tips of your ears grew hot. You were about to turn and open the door again, when you heard Jeonghan quietly call for you to wait. 

You spun around to face him again, finding him scratching his temple, he turned back to face you. “That’s not why I brought you here.”

“Huh?” you questioned. 

“I figured it was time to ask you, um . . . be an adult about it,” he continued. Jeonghan smiled at you, his lips in a tilt as he was amused but trying so hard to stick to the agenda. He muttered, “Wonwoo said you would never get it until I asked like this so . . .” Before you have a chance to question him again, Jeonghan sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, inhaling sharply. “Look, I’m not the best at being . . . uh, explicit about my feelings, but for you, I figured I could be, but um . . . say, uh, what do you say, love?”

And your world stopped, breath hitching. Your dress suddenly felt too tight. 

What did he just call you?! Again!

“I . . . like you a lot and I have for quite some time now, if you haven’t noticed,” Jeonghan pressed on. He exhaled deeply, letting out a quiet whoosh. Jeonghan tilted his head back and fidgeted for a moment, eliciting at a quiet chortle from you. “What if we tried this . . . dating thing? Yeah?”

The tension Jeonghan felt now was unbearable. It was different from the one at the skating chalet, different from the one at the karaoke bar. Like a rubber band pulled taut to its wits end, he was barely holding on as your quietness ensued. 

You suddenly start laughing, throwing your head back in guffaw and slapping your knee. Jeonghan was a bit scared – both just of you and what that meant. Did you not feel the same? Was he the one who got played? 

Did he really just rearrange his life to be rejected?

Heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, your laughter died down as you made your way towards him. Each step felt so long and far away, but it was only a matter of seconds before your arms were wrapped around his neck. Your fingers played with the fringes of his back hairs, eyes gazing up at him – indecipherable, if he was being honest. 

Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t as good at reading you as he thought. 

Taking him by surprise, you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. It was brief, but it burned – it was efficient if your goal was to suck all the air out of Jeonghan’s lungs in the matter of the two seconds your lips touched. 

That or he was just stunned at your boldness – it was hard to predict. 

“You look nice with black hair, by the way,” you noted when you pulled away. Your ran your hand through the front fringes, then teased them back into place. 

“What–”

You tiptoed, giving him another kiss – this one longer. He wasn’t prepared, stiff at first, but quick to lean into it and adjust himself to better slot your lips together. Jeonghan gripped onto your waist, the material of your dress bunching into his hands. 

“Took you long enough, asshole,” you muttered in between pecks when you pulled away. Jenoghan’s lips chased after you, not quite ready to let go. 

“Hey! Your best friend was the one who gave me the wrong number,” Jeonghan shot back. “We could’ve been dating two years ago.”

“Not my fault he writes like a third grader,” you chuckled. 

“He said it was for the plot.”

“Can we just stop talking about Wonwoo when we’re kissing? It feels kind of weird.”

“You know, if you think about it, he’s kind of the main character without being the main character.”

“Okay,” you pulled away, pushing at his chest lightly.

“Wait!” Jeonghan giggled, “Come back – I’ll stop.”

“If we stay here any longer, people will get the wrong idea,” you tried to come up with an excuse.

Jeonghan wiggled his brows playfully, pulling you back. “Like I care?”

. . . .

[Present]

“So, that’s why the joke was that Nina was conceived that night,” Wonwoo explained to Leah. 

“But she wasn’t because timing wise that wouldn’t make sense – I didn’t carry her for a year and a half,” you interjected. You quickly added, “We didn’t do anything either – just kissed and Jeonghan’s social battery was low so we stayed there until midnight and then I fell asleep.”

“I get that – don’t worry,” Leah waved you off. “But . . . uh, the two of you got married pretty fast then – only a year of dating, huh?”

You and Jeonghan looked at each other, gaze softening. 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan shrugged nonchalantly, “I mean that and a year and a half of missed opportunities and pining, but  . . . I dunno, it just made sense.”

You nodded in agreement. 

“That’s sweet,” Leah smiled, “I’m glad it worked out for you guys in the end and you got that job to bring you back here. Fate is so quirky sometimes.”

“Babe,” Wonwoo shoved a spoonful of chocolate cake into his mouth. His words were garbled, “Please don’t make them sentimental – they’re kinda gross and sappy when they get into it.”

“Uncle Wonwoo, mommy says no talking with food in your mouth!” Nina exclaimed. 

He gave the little girl an apologetic look and swallowed . . . without chewing. 

Three pairs of eyes widened, the little one not thinking much of it. 

“Did you just–” Y/N started, but was too stunned to continue. 

“Are you okay?!” Leah exclaimed. She passed him her own glass of water. Wonwoo wiped the corner of his mouth and smiled sheepishly, first at her then you and Jeonghan. “Please don’t choke – we’re getting married in less than a month!”

“Mommy, mommy! Can I try?” Nina exclaimed. 

“No,” you deadpanned. Nina knew that voice, going back to play with her spoon instead. 

Jeonghan guffawed, “Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re marrying him!”

Woonwoo gave him a dark look, gesturing to his daughter. Anyone who knew Wonwoo knew he didn’t like cussing, let alone, around children. “Language,” he scolded. 

. . . .

[Bonus]

“Hey, I have a question for you,” you stated as you wiped the wet cup. Jeonghan had his nose stuck in the dishwasher, making sure all the items were arranged appropriately. 

“Hm?” He waited for you to continue. 

“We all know why I fell for you, but . . . what made you fall for me? At first, that is,” you asked. “I feel like I never got a clear grasp on that.”

Jeonghan grinned, standing up from his crouched position. He stepped towards you, planting a hand on your waist. “That’s easy.”

“Is it?” you raised your eyebrows, curiously. 

He hummed and nodded adamantly. “I thought you knew.”

“Well, you’re not the most forward about everything,” you noted. 

“You remember the perilla leaf debate?” 

“Yeah.”

“It was that,” he explained, “Dami had asked and your answer was that you’re the jealous type, so you’d peel it for everyone to avoid bad vibes and hurting your own feelings – and while saying that, you were actually peeling the perilla for everyone.”

Your jaw grew slack, swatting at him with the dish towel. “That’s it?” you exclaimed. 

“I mean, it was an added bonus that you were kind of cute,” Jeonghan joked. 

“You suck.”

“What? I love the self-awareness and honesty!”

#jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst

[reticent-writer]

Hey hey hey! I hope your life is doing well. I have a request about alastor x teen reader, could you maybe, possibly make angst? Like reader encountering their father, and maybe he beats them up or just slaps reader, then our lovely adoptive father comes to the rescue! Feel free to decline, I just want more alastor x teen reader.

use this and this is a reference

Warning: Choking, Bad Parenting

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

After the win against the angels in the extermination you had found a new sense of hope. You forgot about all you troubles and focused on the present and hopefully the future.

Out on the streets of hell was death, a sight that you've gotten used to. You walked without a care in the world and held your head up high.

"Well look who it is. Y/n in the flesh. Ya'know I thought that hotel would've killed you, glad to see that you're still alive." Vox smiles as he materializes in front of you.

"Is it so hard to enjoy 1 day without being annoyed with someone I don't want to see or talk to." You snapped.

"Woah woah I'm not the one who wanted to see you. There's a man that works under me who wanted to talk to you."

"Who?"

"You'll see If you come with me." He held out his hand for you to take but you just stared at it, debating if you should trust him. I mean he's never hurt you before plus he only has beef with Alastor.

You sighed and took his hand. You felt a tingle all over your body as you were teleported outside of a speakeasy.

"He's waiting inside," Vox said, letting go of your hand and opening the door for you. Vox lead you to a table towards the back where a man was seated.

You didn't recognize him until you got close enough to the unique smell of your dad's cologne and alcohol.

"What the hell is-" You spin around to confront Vox but he's already gone.

"Y/n." Your father said sternly. You kept you back towards him.

"Y/n."

"I really don't want to talk to you." You said through gritted teath.

"Y/n please, I know that I wasn't the best dad in life but death has given me a second chance." He got up and walked around to see your face.

"Someone like you can never change. I would rather side with a cannibalistic murderer than you."

That set him off. He slapped you, Hard. He grabbed you by your neck and backed you into the table.

"HE is the one that ruined your life. I was trying to set you on the right path. I gave you life. Who are YOU to disobey ME." He was so blinded by rage that he couldn't feel you desperately clawing at his hand, making him bleed in the process.

"I'm trying to change but that bastard keeps messing with me." He was clearly going off the deep end. You thought Your weak cries for help weren't heard until you felt the hand around your neck loosen.

Your dad's hand was completely chopped off.

"It's good to see you again, old friend." The radio demon said with a stitched grin, "I believe they said that they didn't want to talk to you. If I ever see you around them I. Will. Kill. You."

Your father slithered away.

"I would've been here sooner if-"

"You came right on time."

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin x reader #male reader #female reader #gn reader #child reader #x child reader #teen reader #platonic #reticent writes #reticent writer

[justabigassnerd]

Patience Worn Thin

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word Count - 2,300

Warnings - harassment, violence, injuries, alcohol, drinking, angst, fluff

Summary - after seeing someone bother Bradley one too many times, you take matters into your own hands

A/N - hey y'all I'm back with another anon request and I hope I did it justice! I am the most unconfrontational person on the planet so this was a little out of my depth but it's always good to try new things. as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

“Hey babe, me and the Daggers are heading to the Hard Deck for a couple of drinks. Want to come?” Bradley says in his usual soft tone as he sweeps you up into a hug, holding you close as if he hadn’t seen you in years when in reality he had simply gone upstairs for a few minutes and just returned downstairs.

“If they’re okay with me tagging along.” You say, curling your arms around Bradley and resting your head just above his heart and listening to the gentle thudding of his heartbeat.

“They’re always okay with you coming. If they weren’t, they’d have to deal with me and Mav.” Bradley says, his soft chuckle rumbling against your ear before you lift your head off his chest, laughing to yourself as you visualise your boyfriend and your dad teaming up against all the Daggers. While you were Maverick’s daughter, you weren’t an aviator, instead, you had opted to work in nursing and found yourself working in a hospital local to where your dad and boyfriend worked.

“Guess we’re going to the Hard Deck then.” You say with a soft smile as you look up at Bradley as he looks down at you, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses against your lips. When you both pull away, Bradley’s phone buzzes and he lets out a soft sigh, pulling it from his pocket and inspecting the text displayed.

“We better get a move on. Apparently, I owe Jake a darts match and I fear that if I don’t show up soon my callsign might change from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Chicken’.” Bradley says with a laugh as you move out of his embrace, laughing as you imagine him being called ‘Chicken’ day in and day out at work.

“Let’s get you down to the Hard Deck then. Can’t have my boyfriend being seen as someone afraid of a darts match against Jake of all people.” You say, patting Bradley’s chest before moving past him to get yourself ready to head to the bar.

When you are ready, you head out of the house with Bradley and get into the passenger seat of his Bronco, smiling as Bradley instinctively rests his free hand on your thigh as he drives, singing along to the radio under his breath as he goes. Eventually, he parks outside the Hard Deck and the two of you get out and head into the bar together.

“Want me to grab you a drink? I’ll be designated driver if you want?” You say, turning to face Bradley almost the moment the two of you entered the bar.

“Are you sure?” Bradley asks, soft enough for the moment to be just between the two of you but loud enough to be heard over the noise of the bar.

“I’m sure. As long as you’re okay with me driving the Bronco of course.” You say with a small smile as Bradley rests a hand on your waist, the other digging in his pocket and holding the Bronco keys between the two of you.

“There’s no one else I’d trust to drive her.” He says, grinning as you take the keys before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.

“Bradshaw! Get your ass over here!” You pull away with a giggle at Jake’s voice ringing clearly over the noise of the busy bar and Bradley rolls his eyes.

“He really knows how to pick a time, huh?” Bradley mutters, winding an arm around your waist and guiding you over to the Dagger's usual spot near the pool tables and dart board.

“Hey, you brought y/n!” Jake greets you enthusiastically as the two of you approach, instantly approaching you, arms outstretched for a hug that you’re more than happy to give him, pulling away and greeting the other Daggers with hugs before returning to Bradley’s side.

“Okay, I’m going to grab you a drink now. Beer?” You say to Bradley as he nods.

“That would be great, thank you.” Bradley says gratefully, kissing the top of your head before letting you cross the bar to talk to Penny.

“y/n! How lovely to see you.” Penny greets you happily, smiling as she leans up against the bar to talk to you.

“It’s good to see you too, Penny.” You say, smiling at Penny.

“Beers for you and Bradley?” Penny asks, instinctively reaching down to the fridge that contains the beers you and Bradley like to drink.

“Just one for Bradley. I’ll take a soda.” You say, pulling out your card and handing it to Penny to start a tab just in case you and Bradley wanted more drinks throughout the evening. Penny soon hands you your two drinks and you thank her with a smile before turning and heading back over to Bradley who was standing with Jake near the dart board.

“Here you go.” You say, holding Bradley’s beer out towards him as he takes it gratefully, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips in thanks.

“Get a room you two.” Jake grumbles, plucking the darts from the board and handing some of them to Bradley.

“Just you wait until you get a girlfriend. Then me and Bradley will be saying it to you.” You say with a laugh as Jake rolls his eyes. You then make your way over to Natasha and Bob, sitting with them and making conversation with them as Bradley and Jake play their darts match.

An hour or so later, after Jake and Bradley are finally done with their final match, you get up, excuse yourself to the bathroom and leave the group to their own devices for a few minutes. However, when you return, you can’t say you were impressed with the scene before you.

When you leave the bathroom, shaking the remnants of water off your hands, you see a woman almost draping herself over Bradley who doesn’t look entirely comfortable with her proximity. You could tell he was saying something to her, but you didn’t know what it was. You soon crossed the bar and sidled up alongside Bradley, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Hey babe. Who’s your friend?” You ask innocently, turning to look at the woman who had at least had the decency to take a step back.

“I’m Mia.” She says, barely giving Bradley a chance to respond, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Well, nice to meet you, Mia. If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend some time with my boyfriend. It's our first time seeing each other in months. You can understand that, right?” The lie comes quickly and easily to you. You weren’t the biggest fan of sounding possessive over Bradley but after seeing how uncomfortable he had looked you didn’t want this person ever coming near him again. With a huff, Mia rolled her eyes and stalked off. The moment she was out of sight you turned to Bradley.

“I didn’t mean to speak for you. I could tell you weren’t comfortable.” You apologise quickly, stopping only when Bradley kisses you, words catching in your throat.

“Don’t apologise.” Bradley whispers after pulling away enough to speak, lips brushing against yours with every word spoken. You nod your head slightly at his words before pulling away, determined to spend the rest of the evening with your friends and forget about the incident that had happened as you hoped it was a one-time event.

Oh how wrong you were.

Bradley had gone to the Hard Deck a couple of times while you stayed home or had work and each time had come back complaining that Mia had been there and had been completely disregarding his obvious boundaries and ignoring that he had a girlfriend, having been convinced it was a ploy to keep her away, he had told you. Bradley had told you that all of the Daggers had tried to help him keep her away, but she was a lot more persistent than they expected. All you did at the moment was hug Bradley tight, feeling awful that he was going through that without you to help him before you spoke up.

“Next time you go to the Hard Deck, I’m coming with you.”

True to your word, the next time Bradley and the Daggers organised a time to go to the Hard Deck, you made sure you were free to accompany Bradley. The two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, walking in hand in hand as your eyes immediately scoured the bar looking for Mia, letting out a small, satisfied sigh when you couldn’t see her. Maybe she’d gotten the hint after all, so you allowed yourself to relax as you crossed to the Daggers, greeting them all with a smile.

The evening progressed pleasantly, everyone laughing, playing pool, or gossiping about the new Top Gun recruits. Then the all-familiar bell rang signalling that someone would be paying for a round for everyone in the bar.

“I’m going to grab us all a drink.” You say, instantly excusing yourself to grab a drink for yourself and all your friends.

When you returned to the group, Mia was there. She had apparently escaped your skimmed searches of the bar and snuck in the moment you moved away from Bradley. You approached the table Mickey and Javy were sitting at and placed the tray down, immediately turning around and approaching her.

“Excuse me, I was very polite the first time that we met but I don’t appreciate that you keep trying to force yourself on my boyfriend and make him uncomfortable. Please leave him alone.” You say, firmness sneaking into your voice as you position yourself next to Bradley, noticing how all the Daggers immediately have their attention on you, ready to step in if needed.

“You’re clearly lying to yourself if you think that he could ever be your boyfriend. He’s way out of your league and much better suited to be dating someone like me. Besides it’s not like he was saying no.” Mia says with a snarky tone as she folds her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow as she looks you up and down.

“He wasn’t saying anything! Isn’t that enough of a hint for you?!” You cry out, growing more enraged when Mia just shrugs.

“I can tell when men like what I’m doing. Besides, men never say no. I know it can be hard to accept but sometimes men prefer people like me over people like you.” Mia’s chosen words enraged you so much that you did something you never thought you’d be capable of doing.

You punched her.

You would’ve regretted it had Mia not attacked you back. She practically pushed you to the floor and you were quick to drag her down with you, pinning her to the floor and just giving her hell. You couldn’t even recall what you were doing, you were just so blinded by your rage and this woman’s audacity. You kept throwing punches and slaps, as did Mia, a fair few coming into contact with you until you felt two muscular arms wrap around your middle and drag you off Mia and the moment you were clear, you were vaguely aware of Jake and Reuben stepping in between you and Mia as a barrier.

“y/n, honey, you need to calm down.” Bradley’s soothing, gentle voice whispers in your ear as he hauls you away from the chaos and holds you carefully in place, his eyes shining with worry as Natasha appears alongside him while Bob rushes to fill Penny in on what happened. Bradley guides you to the bar, sitting you on one of the stools while Natasha follows Penny to get you an ice pack. The second Natasha returns, Bradley takes the ice pack and holds it near your eye where he could tell a bruise was already beginning to form. You could hear Penny calling for Mia to be escorted out and given a ban from the Hard Deck and all you could think about was how grateful you were that she wouldn’t be around to bother Bradley anymore.

“I appreciate you defending me, y/n but you didn’t need to do this. You’re hurt.” Bradley mutters, eyes scanning you for any more injuries while he holds the ice pack in place.

“I couldn’t let her treat you like that. I just snapped.” You admit, looking up and making eye contact with the man you love.

“It happens to the best of us. I bet Mav’s done something like that before, it’ll be where you got that from.” Bradley says, smiling lightly as he changes the subject to bring a smile to your face which he was successful in doing.

“There’s no way dad hasn’t punched someone in the defence of someone he loves.” You giggle, wincing lightly when Bradley applies a little bit more pressure accidentally to the tender area, which of course makes him apologise instantly.

“I have to admit. It was really attractive seeing you defend me like that.” Bradley muses, moving the ice pack away from your eye and setting it on the countertop.

“Really?” You ask, feeling your face heat up at his words.

“Really. No one’s ever defended me like that before. It just means a lot more because it’s you.” Bradley says softly, cupping your face softly and leaning in until his lips meet yours, the kiss alone conveying everything Bradley needed to say. You both pull away when you hear the Daggers calling for both you and Bradley and you laugh as you glance from them to Bradley who lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head.

“I think we should head over so you can talk to your fans, huh?”

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader

[yuuuhiii]

≡ The Weekend

sum: You were only supposed to be a booty call. So why does Rindou find himself wanting more of you?

includes : Rindou Haitani x reader, 5k words, SMUT, fluff, angst, open ending?, fwb, alcohol usage, vulnerable Rindou

other : This fic is inspired by BIBI’s The Weekend! And a little from DEAN’S Die 4 you:) so have fun with that:D this is my first time writing a fic this long so please leave feedback! I’d appreciate it a lot:)

Would it be ironic to say you met Rindou in a club? Or more so, predictable? Or was it bound to happen?

He was the club owner after all, he’d never seen you before. He’s sat in his VIP section with Ran, girls littering the table. Rindou couldn’t care less though as he watched you from his seat. Eyes scanning your form and face.

It seemed you were only here with a friend. You both danced and joked on the dance floor, your guy's drinks sloshing in your hand. He even gets irked when he sees a guy trying to rub up on you but you shove him away. A smirk laces his lips at that, he’s trying to read you.

What your personality was like.

Were you loud and rebellious? Or shy and reserved? He guessed he’d have to find out for himself. With that conclusion he gets up, the girls that were feeling him up whining.

“And where are you off to?” Ran said with a smirk, watching as his little brother dusted himself off.

“Somewhere.” He muttered, eliciting a laugh from his elder brother.

You had made your way to the bar, refilling on a new beverage. He sits next to you and the bartender straightens up, greeting him.

“I’ll pay for her tab,” Rindou says and the bartender nods. You turn to look at him with your eyebrows raised.

“I got it covered. Thanks.” You say with feigning gratitude, sipping your drink. He turns fully towards you with a smirk.

“I’m fully aware you do, I can’t treat you?” He says with his raise of his brows. You narrow your eyes skeptically at him.

“Without even knowing me.” You roll your eyes, somewhat amused. He lets out a chuckle.

“Well then, will you let me get to know you?” You pretend to think over your answer, deciding to tease him more.

“Your way of getting into girl's pants is paying for their tabs? I’m flattered.” You place a hand on your chest, lightly gasping. Rindou is enjoying this, an amused smirk on his face.

“Only yours.” You stare at him for a second then gaze down at your drink.

“Y/n.” You say and he hums, satisfied.

“Rindou.” He holds out his hand, and you look at it and back at him, slowly taking his hand in yours. He stands up abruptly, surprising you.

“Wanna see something?” You blink, and with a hum you let him lead you to where the DJ is.

He waves his free hand the guy is gone. You watch as he messes with the turntables with experience, sipping your drink with a small smile.

“You’re good with your hands.” You say with a bite to your lip and he looks at you over his shoulder.

“This is nothing.” He pulls away and reaches for your hand.

You’re in front of the system as he cages you between it. He takes your drink and places it to the side. His back presses up against your chest, his hands placed over yours. He leans down close to your lips, whispering.

“This okay?”

You were usually one to never wither under a man’s presence. But this one had you weak in the knees. You hum and he smiles, straightening back up. He coaches you through what everything is. What button is what, which switch is which, and even shows you how to scratch.

The whole ‘lesson’ has you sharing laughs and smiles with the latter. He watches you with content as you mess around with the turntables. It was probably terrible for everyone in the club however he couldn’t care less.

“Ok, ok no more.” You giggle and his hands rest on your waist.

The music goes back to the way it was and he slowly moves you to the rhythm. You roll your eyes, engaging in his small act.

“You’re trying awfully hard don’t you think?”

“Huh?” He yells and you slightly push him, marking him snort.

His hand is clasped in yours once again and he leads you around the club, pushing a curtain it reveals a whole other empty club room. Now it was just the two of you, no people or music to interrupt you both.

“So? What were you saying?” He says as he walks over to the bar, pouring himself some whiskey. You sit on the stool, your chin resting on the palm of your hand.

“I said, don’t you think you’re trying too hard?”

“With what?” He says with a lazy grin, sipping his drink.

“You know what Rindou? You try this hard with other girls?” You tilt your head and he bites the inside of his cheek.

“Nah, you’re special.”

“I know.” You smile and he grins.

He walks over to you standing inches away from between your legs. You stare up at him and he’s physically holding himself back from shoving his lips against yours.

“You’re stunning.” He says almost breathlessly and you smile.

“Thanks.” He leans down to peck your lips but your hands shoot up to his face, pecking the corner of his mouth.

“I’m more than just a booty call Rin.” He smiles, his violet eyes boring into yours.

“I’m glad we got that covered.”

Is the last thing he says before he’s smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is feverish and needy. He’s slotting himself between your legs, big hands resting on your waist.

The kiss turns heated fast, his tongue easing into your mouth. You let out a small moan, mostly to egg him on which succeeds when he squeezes your waist. You bite down on his lip and he groans, your hands moving into his hair. He pulls away and starts attacking your neck with bites and kisses. You tug on his hair and another groan leaves him.

“Fucking beautiful.” He says breathlessly, sucking on your collarbone.

Your head leans back in bliss, his hand sliding under your dress. Teasingly, he inches closer to your clothed cunt, causing you to trap his between your thighs.

A loud buzz halts you both. You blink and he groans not out of pleasure but annoyance. He pulls his hand from under your dress, pulling out his phone.

Missed calls and texts pop up from his brother, making him suck his teeth. He rolls his eyes and looks towards you. You’re pouting and he smiles, tugging at your lip.

“I gotta go.” He sighs and your pout deepens.

“Bored already?” You scoff teasingly and he smiles, pecking your lips.

“Never. Let me give you my number. So I can finish what I started.”

When you pull out your phone it displays texts from your friend, saying she had already left. You huff when you stand up and he pushes a strand of hair past your ear.

He kisses you again however this one’s longer, trying to savor your lips against his. He walks you out of the club, standing lazily next to you. He shrugs off his blazer, placing it over your shoulders.

“You got a ride home?” You yawn and let him know you’d just Uber home.

“I’ll pay for it, make sure you get home safe.” He tussles with his hair, and you hum.

His phone rings again and his face is quickly laced with annoyance. As the car pulls up he opens the door for you, making sure you got in carefully.

“Text me?” He says as he closes the door, the window rolling down.

“Desperate?”He laughs and leans down, kissing you again. He nods his head and the car is off.

He sighs once again, walking back into the club. His brother is standing there with a smile on his face.

“Who was she?” He raises his brows and Rindou scoffs.

“A woman.”

“I could see that Rindou, I have eyes. Another plaything?”

“Dunno, we’ll see”

Rindou didn’t mean to not respond to your texts but things at the clubs had been busy. Several events and just having to manage the different locations as well.

Luckily it’s the weekend and he has a certain person he wants to see.

rindou

hey, you home? 10:45 PM

y/n

Oh? You still remember me? 10:50 PM

rindou

very funny. Can I come over? Rather talk to you in person. 10:51 PM

y/n

only if you’ll bring me smth from the convenience store😊 10:51 PM

rindou

mhm, let me know what and send your address. 10:52 PM

y/n

k<3 10:53 PM

Rindou is off to the convenience store, grabbing what you wanted, and a box of condoms. The cashier gives him a smug look but Rindou ignores him, grabbing his stuff and leaving.

From where you are on the couch, you hear knocks on your door. The clock read eleven o’clock. You patter to the door with a small smile, opening the door. Your eyes widen at the sight before you.

Rindou had his round glasses on, a very loose v-shaped shirt and baggy pants, jewelry littering his hands. You guess you’ve been staring for quite some time when Rindou speaks up.

“Am I allowed to come in?” He says with a small smirk and you quickly open the door, letting him walk in.

He walks over to the counter, setting your stuff on the counter. You light up at the snacks and quickly open one of them up.

“So, gonna tell me why I haven’t heard from you?”

“A lot of shit was goin' on with the club, a fuck ton of events and stuff.” He sighs, pushing up his glasses and rubbing his temple. You pause your chewing.

“You’re the owner?” You blink at him and he blinks at you back.

“Uh, yeah?”

He’s a little surprised you didn’t know, given that everyone knew who the Haitanis were. You mumble a small ‘oh’ and he shakes his head in amusement.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” You speak up and he laughs, pushing them up.

“What is it a turnoff?” He quirks a brow and you smile, setting your snack down.

“No, it’s cute.” He cringes, turning away.

“No, it’s not.”

“Too manly to be called cute?” You poke fun at him and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Not a word I’d associate myself with.” You let out a laugh and he finds himself smiling at the sound.

You ask a little bit more about the club and throughout the night Rindou kinda rambles. It’s weird to him honestly, with any other woman he’d come to get things done and leave right after.

But ever since that night he laid his eyes on you, you piqued his interest. He just found himself wanting to know more about you, wanting to be more around you.

“You have a tattoo as well?” You peer up at the deep black ink on his arm and he hums.

“It’s a pretty big piece.”

“Think I’ll be able to see it all tonight?”

You knew what to say to take his breath away. Most of the girls he’d meet were never upfront or held themselves high like you did. They were…easy, but you were the true definition of a woman.

At one point you had brought a couple of beers, the both of you just chatting the night away. You guys had moved to your couch, his arms outspread on the back of the couch with you close to his side. You hum along to his stories, taking a swig of your beer.

“I didn’t know there were still interesting guys left in Roppongi.” He smiles down at you.

“I’m one of a kind sweets.” You roll your eyes at him, placing your beer down.

“You’re so corny.” You laugh, raking a hand through your hair.

Rindou’s eyes rake over you, you were very pretty. He’d seen when you were all dolled up and now when you were natural and bare. Just a tousled T-shirt and short shorts. He’d be lying if those shorts weren’t bothering him the whole night though.

“You’re beautiful.” He almost whispers and you gaze at him with a soft smile.

“You are too.”

Out of the times that you’ve seen him, you finally got him to blush. You feel a sense of pride well up in you, even a little confidence.

You got up from where you were sitting, straddling his lap. His downturned eyes were captivating, you could stare at them all day. While your hands reach up to grab his glasses, his hands rest at the base of your thighs. He watches you intently when you place them on the coffee table. Your hands move up his chest, resting on his neck.

“You gonna finish what you started.” You asked, inches away from his lips. Both of your eyes are lidded and he lazily smiles.

“If you’ll let me.” His hands move to the small of your back and you hum, finally connecting your lips.

It’s slow and sensual not as rushed as it was last time. The both of you take time to experience each other’s mouths. He pulls away though, nipping at your neck.

“They already gone away?” He says lowly and you laugh.

“Well yea it’s been a week dummy.” You feel him smile against your neck, tugging at your shirt.

“S’fine, I’ll just give you more.”

You pull back to pull off your shirt and he’s a little taken aback when you’re not wearing a bra. You cringe a little at the feel of him cupping your breast, the cold metal of his rings making your bud harden.

“Want me to take them off?” You purse your lips and shake your head to which he smiles.

“They’re hot.” His smile widens, leaning closer to your breasts.

“Atta girl.” He pulls a breast into his mouth, sucking and nibbling like he was on your neck.

Your whining and squirming against him, your movements have him hardening underneath you. He pulls off with a pop, his lidded eyes staring up at you.

“Where’s your room.”

“Down the hall to the left.”

In a second he’s lifting you, making you squeal. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing along his jaw. He groans when you suck a spot under his jaw near his ear, making you grin.

“Found it~” He grins, kicking your door open and placing you on your bed. He takes off his shirt throwing it on your floor, he’s moving to kiss you again but your hands against his chest stop him.

“Something wrong?” He pulls back and your hand immediately begins to trace his tattoo.

“Jesus, why is everything about you so hot.” You pout and he lets out a small laugh.

Your hand slowly drags down to his stomach, dragging over his clothed cock. He hisses, pushing you back on the bed. Achingly slow, he pulls down your shorts and panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, do I even need to prep you?” He looks up at you and you shake your head.

“Just fuck me.” You whine and he sighs, taking a condom out of his pocket.

“Are you clean?” You ask and he looks confused.

“Yes? I never fuck without a condom.”

“I’m on the pill.”

“Are you clean?” He retorts back.

“I don’t sleep around.” You cross your arms.

“This your first hookup?”

“That a problem?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“‘Course not.” He shoves the condom back in his pocket, stepping out of his jeans. You blink at his cock when it slaps against his lower abdomen.

“Y-You’re huge.”

“That a problem?” He teases and you scoff.

“‘Course not.” You mimic his voice and he just smirks.

“Keep it up, let’s see how bold you are.”

You bite your tongue when he rubs his tip against your slit. You both moan, his eyes are raking over your body and he’s already panting.

“S-Stop teasing Rin.” You whimper and he groans.

“S-Shit don’t say my name like that.”

He’s inching himself inside you and you kinda regret not getting prepped. Rindou was girthy, it felt like you were getting split in half.

“S’big.” Your legs quiver, he smooths his hands on your thighs, putting your legs on his shoulders. With a thrust, he bottoms out.

“Fuck!” You moan, gripping your bedsheets.

“You’re fucking t-tight.” His brows are creased, trying to calm himself or else he knew he’d blow his load. It gave you a moment to adjust to his size as well. He pressed a peck to your ankle.

“I’m gonna move ok?” You nod, your lips pulled between your teeth.

He almost pulls out, slamming right back into you. He sets a steady rhythm, your bed creaking. Your breathless whines only egg him on.

“Shit baby, so tight and pretty.” He’s losing himself, he can feel it. Your warm pussy has him feeling like a virgin all over again.

“R-Rin please.” You beg you don’t even know what exactly for. Just babbling out whatever comes to your mind, anything you could usher out.

“Please what?” He pants, moving with more force. You clench around him and he stutters.

“Pussy sucking me in.” He groans as he leans down, putting you in a mating press. This new angle has you seeing stars, your eyes rolling back.

“R-Rin.” You moan, your nails dragging along his back. You feel his dick twitch at the act.

“Let go, baby. I got you.” His hand comes down to rub eights on your clit. With a high pitch gasp, you’re coming undone around him.

“Oh shit.” He groans when he feels your walls close around him, even tighter than before. The final blow for him is your hands in his hair tugging but more so your words.

“K-Kiss me Rin.”

With one more harsh thrust, he’s smashing his lips against your lips. His teeth biting down on your bottom lip. His seed explodes and fills you until you’re full of him. You throw your head back already past your limit. He is too but he fucks his nut back into you mindlessly.

Afterwards, he’s falling against you, your guy's ragged breath mirroring one another’s. He moved to your side, you cringed at the feeling of him pulling out.

“You ok?” He rasps, looking down at you. You nod, scooting up your bed, and resting your head against the pillow.

“Haven’t been fucked that good in a while.” You lazily smile and he shakes his head, a grin on his face. You scoot closer to him, your hand tracing the curves and swoops of his tattoo.

“M’tired.” You blink, eyes slowly falling shut.

Before fully giving into your slumber, you reach for his hand. His eyes widen, looking at your sleeping form. His heart is beating at an abnormal speed but he blames it on the sex, that he hasn’t calmed down. However he knows he should leave but he turns on his side, facing you.

“I don’t think I’m good for you.” He mumbles, letting himself to succumb to slumber as well.

When you wake up your bed is cold and empty, your heart pangs but you somehow have a little hope. You get up and put on a shirt and some panties.

“Rin.” You call out as you walk through your apartment.

Cold.

Empty.

You sigh, turning to open your refrigerator. At the same moment your door swings open. You gasp, turning to the door and it’s Rindou with bags in his hand.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper and he blinks.

“Ouch, went to get you breakfast.” He sets the bag down. You shake your head, walking towards him.

“That’s not what I meant sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to come back.” You look down and he gazes longingly at you, you don’t catch this though.

“Well I’m here.” He mumbles, pulling out the food.

After that morning Rindou kept in contact with you, he’d invite you out here and there to eat or back to the club with him. You didn’t want to admit but your found yourself falling for the guy.

The way he’d treat you, look at you, talk to you. You loved the way he made you feel and the way you felt around him. You admired him as a man as well, how he was confident and had a good business going, the way he held himself. It was honestly all you’ve wanted in a guy.

However one day something changed. You were probably overthinking, he said it was work. You wanted to believe him and you wanted to-

You guys weren’t even dating.

No label was put on you both, you were just seeing each other with the side of fucking. You sigh, this was why you took a break from dating. The headaches and anxiety it gave you. The fear of the unknown or what could’ve been.

You never liked it.

You sat on your couch, your tv playing as background noise for your raging thoughts. When you look down, Rindou’s glasses were on the table. You blink at them and move to grab them. You hold them in your hands, smiling at the memory of how cute he looked when he wore them. Then an idea popped into your head.

Why don’t you go visit him at work?

With a newfound mission, you rise with the intent of returning his glasses and seeing him as well.

You walk into the club, the music already blasting and people littered everywhere. You honestly weren’t one for clubbing but your friend had begged you that night. You’d have to thank her later because if she hadn’t begged you to come, you never would’ve met Rindou.

You walked around the place for a bit and weren’t able to find him.

Maybe he wasn’t working today?

You click your teeth, might as well have one drink since you were here.

And so you did.

Just when you’re about to leave, you hear cheering from the corner of the room. Upon looking it was a booth. You peak over a bit and see a glimpse of Rindou. A smile rises to your face and you start walking towards him.

That’s until you see a girl come into view, glued to his side and feeling him up. You watch him and he leans into her smiling, at the woman. You gulp and your stomach churns.

Then they kiss, a kiss was an understatement, they were sucking each other's faces off. You quickly turn away and make your way straight to the bar again.

Without your knowing, someone watched the whole ordeal, with amused eyes and a shake of his head he got up. Leaning towards Rindou, he speaks.

“Someone’s in big trouble.” He says with a grin, walking away.

“What’d you say!” Rindou yells back, his words slurred, the girl next to him whined, pulling him into another kiss.

Your heart was beating unhealthily well and your ears were ringing.

“Hello.” You hear from beside you and you look up.

You’re shocked to see a man that resembles almost exactly Rindou. However, his hair was way shorter and combed, and dyed as well. You don’t reply, turning back to your drink.

“I know who those belong to.” He nods his head at your hand. Rindou’s glasses.

“You do? Well then tell him he can have them back.” You slide them towards him, and the man grins.

“I know of you, Rindou wouldn’t shut up about you.”

Your brow twitches.

“Who are you exactly?” You say with attitude.

“Rindou’s older brother, Ran.” He holds out his hand, and you roll your eyes and shake his hand.

“Why’re you so upset?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Oh, but I do.” He laughs. “I guess I’m just a little confused because Rindou never mentioned dating you.”

“We’re not.”

That’s right.

You weren’t.

So why are you so upset? Why are you even here?

No other words needed to be said or at least you didn’t want to hear anything else so you paid for your tab and left the club.

A little later when the women had finally left Rindou he’s a little more sober, just a little. Ran mentions his little surprise.

“Guess who happened to stop by.” Rindou looks at him bored.

“Who.”

“One of your girls.” He grins, sipping his drink.

“And she wasn’t happy. Oh, she wanted me to return these.” Ran slides his glasses across the table.

Rindou looks at them for a minute, letting his brain proceed with all of the information. Until he’s shooting up.

“Fuck!” He yells, running out of the club.

“Young love.” Ran laughs, raising his glass to no one in particular.

Rindou should not be driving. His head is throbbing and he’s gripping his steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. He ran to many red lights just to get to your apartment. When he reaches it, he doesn’t even park right, he runs up the flight of stairs to the best of his abilities. The alcohol made his heart feel like it was gonna burst off his chest.

When he reaches your door he isn’t knocking but banging. Probably alerting some neighbors. He’s about to knock again but the door flies open revealing you. Your hair is a mess and you’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, your face a little puffy.

“Rindou?” You groggily say.

Fuck.

He wanted to kiss you so bad, you were too fucking cute.

You sigh, fully awake but irritated. “It’s too late for this. Go home.” You say, shutting the door but he stops it.

“Please, let me in.” You open the door and he wobbles in.

“You reek of fucking alcohol.” You cringe, moving to grab water.

You pour a glass for the both of you. His heart hasn’t calmed down, it’s ringing through his ears.

“Drink.” You coldly say and his heart cracks at the sound of your voice.

“I’m going back to bed.” You turn around.

“Wait!” He rushes, grabbing your wrist.

“Why are you even here Rindou.”

“Stop calling me that.” He looks down ashamed.

“Isn’t that your name?” You cross your arms and he’s chewing on his lips.

“My brother told me what happened.” He mumbles.

“Exactly. So why are you here.” You blink.

“Because I-”

“We’re not dating Rindou. I don’t care what you do.”

“Just let me talk!” He raises his voice but you stand there with no emotion.

“Say what you need to say then.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

You sigh, growing irritated. “There’s nothing you need to be sorry for.”

“But there is! You know there is. For once just, be vulnerable with me.” He sighs.

“Be vulnerable with you? I haven’t? So what do you think of all the times you’ve come over, and taken me out? That wasn’t me being vulnerable?” You scoff out of amusement and shock.

“If you’re just planning on using me then this is the last time we see each other.”

It’s quiet.

To quiet for Rindou.

Usually, your TV is on because you hate when your house is quiet.

All he wants to do is hold you.

“I’m not a good person.” He begins. “But you make me feel good. I like the way you make me feel. I know I fucked up. I know we’re not dating but you deserve an apology because I—do like you and I want something with you. But I just was drinking and.” He sighs again, rubbing his face.

“How am I supposed to trust you if you’re like this and we’re not even dating.” You whisper.

“Can we talk in the morning? I’m not sober.” He murmurs.

You don’t say anything but let him follow you to your room. You get under the covers and he removes his suit, leaving him in his boxers. Your back is faced towards him. He slides under the covers and immediately pulls you against his chest. You stare emotionless at your wall and then you feel it.

Wet droplets against your shoulder.

He was crying.

You bite your lip but do your best to fall asleep. Letting him sob as he held you as if this was the last time he’d ever get to hold you.

Rindou woke up with a groan, holding his head as he sat up.

“Where the fuck am I?” He whispers to himself, his eyes going around the room.

It’s your room.

Slowly, glimpses of last night come to his mind and he freezes.

“Fuck.” He lets out, throwing your covers over him and walking over to your kitchen.

There you are, cooking, humming to the music you’re playing. A smile rises to his face and you turn, halting your movements.

“Morning.” You mumble. Turning back to the stove. “There’s coffee if you want.”

“You need help?” He picks at his hand.

“No, it’s fine.” He gulps, moving to sit down at the table.

He watched as you finished up, bringing his plate to him. He watches you as you eat, not even picking at his food.

“Stop staring.” You mumble and his head shoots down.

“Sorry.”

This wasn’t like him and even though you know you guys have to talk. You hated how things were right now. Would they even go back to how they were before?

“Do you like me?” Rindou asks, cracking the ice that was building up between the both of you.

You sigh, placing your fork down. “Obviously. I just don’t…trust you.”

“Is there any way you can again?” You look up at him to find he’s already staring at you.

“What do you want from me Rin.” You look tired and he hates himself for doing this to you.

“I want you. I’ll do anything to prove it, we can start over.” He pleads.

“Fucking me isn’t gonna be enough.” You quirk a brow and he shakes his head.

“I don’t care about that, I’ll prove to you that I’m all you need.” He gets up standing next to you.

You gaze up at him and he opens his arms. Slowly but surely, you rise to your feet, wrapping your arms around him.

He’s warm and at that moment that ice crumbled and melted when he held you tightly against him.

It would take time and you know he knows he’s gonna have to bust his ass because that’s what you deserve.

You deserve so much more and he’d do anything he could to prove himself to you.

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

#—tr #rindou x reader #rindou x you #rindou x y/n #rindou smut #rindou fluff #rindou angst #rindou fanfic #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani x you #rindou haitani smut #rindou haitani fluff #tr rindou #tokyo rev rindou #tokyo revengers rindou #tr x y/n #tr x you #tr smut #tr x reader #tr fluff #tr angst #tr fanfic #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev angst

[hey-august]

A Favor for the Captain - Chapter 1 | NSFW (Buggy x afab!reader)

Description: You expected to spend night duty alone, but your captain decides to keep you company. Together you enjoy some light hearted conversation and silly jokes, before Buggy asks for an unexpected, but not unwelcome, favor. Word count: Just under 2.5k A/N: This is probably just going to be 2 chapters. I have the next chapter outlined, so hopefully it'll be ready to post soon. Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x afab!reader, no use of Y/N, dry humping, bad jokes, pathetic and embarrassed buggy because he's bad at communicating. All parties are consenting adults.

→ Chapter 2

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“Make good choices!” you called out to your crewmates as they streamed off the ship and into the night. It had been ages since any of you had free time and most of the crew chose to spend it in town, savoring goods and experiences that were sparse out at sea. Fresh food, endless alcohol, and sex with people you didn’t work with.

You, on the other hand, were stuck on the ship. Your freedom was clipped short when you were put on night guard duty. Someone had to mind the ship at night and it fell to the new recruit who didn’t know they should lie about already having plans. Secretly, you didn’t mind. There was supposed to be a meteor shower soon and this gave you an excuse to look for the shooting stars.

The dark and quiet night draped over the ship, a heavy blanket that muffled the soft crashes of sea. A soft breeze danced through the palm trees on the shore, moving them in time with the echoes of music and laughter that drifted from town. You were laid out on the deck, positioned to search the sky. Each pinprick of light was still in place, almost mocking you for remaining on the ship and not exploring elsewhere. As if you had a choice. 

Lost in thought and drifting among the constellations, you missed the sound of footsteps approaching your solo viewing party. They moved in time with the sound of waves, a natural ability from someone bound to the sea. Eventually you realized that the feeling of being watched wasn’t pouring from the watchful moon and stars, but from a presence nearby.

Your captain broke into a grin at the sight of your panicked double-take. The first look expressed confusion and the second carried fear. Neither were emotions that were foreign to him, the pirate clown has seen both directed at him many times before. But watching your head whip around to confirm it was the captain and the way your eyes widened was downright comical. 

Before you could scramble to your feet, Buggy crouched next to you. You sat up and surveyed his face, trying to assess how absolutely fucked you were. Honestly, it was hard to read anything past the fake smile painted on his face, but he looked more bemused than pissed. This could work in your favor.

“So…guard duty?” Buggy broke the silence first.

You cringed, unsure how to answer. How could you convince the captain you were on duty when you didn’t even hear him walk over? The guy wears heavy boots. On the plus side, he wasn’t wearing his coat full of knives, bombs, and other superfluous noise makers. Even still, that wasn’t enough of an excuse.

“What were you even looking at?” he questioned, each word emphasized by his mischievous smile.

“The stars,” you answered, glancing back up at the silent audience. At the edge of your vision, you saw Buggy also turn towards the sky. “There are supposed to be shooting stars, but I haven’t seen any.”

“Ever?” He turned his attention back to you. The question caught you off-guard and you shook your head.

“Damn, if I had the right prop I could make your night.” Buggy could see the gears turning in your head, producing a complete lack of understanding. He sighed disappointedly and mimed shooting at the sky before gesturing at himself. “Shooting…star…” It was so obvious.

You groaned and covered your face, not sure if your laughter was because it was actually a good joke, or because Buggy delivered the gag like it was. Satisfied with your response, Buggy joined you in sitting on the wooden floor and looked back at the sky.

Massaging the rest of the laughter out of your cheeks, you turned towards your captain. “Have you ever seen one? A real shooting star?”

“Countless times. They’re really a sight to see…the stars know how to put on a show.” 

In the corner of his eye, Buggy saw you nod as he spoke, noting how you gazed at him a moment longer than usual. Normally the attention would make Buggy feel self-conscious, but the air between you two felt comfortable. It always did. Not that you two interacted much, but he picked up on your calm composure, even when he was wreaking havoc on the crew. Even now, as you eased yourself back into lying on the floor, you exuded a sense of peace. Moving naturally, as if you were hanging out with a close friend and not your boss. Maybe this was all conjured by the loneliness in his head. Still, Buggy indulged in the atmosphere. He joined you in spreading out on the floor for a better view of the sky and there you both lay, under boundless celestial nightlights. 

“Do you know the names of the constellations?” you questioned, putting a pause to the relaxed silence you were sharing.

Buggy nodded and started rattling off celestial names while a disembodied gloved hand floated overhead, pointing out each group of stars. After the first few, he started adding in a few made up constellations.

“Big Richie, it’s a magnificent, fearsome, circus lion.” “The Big Top Tent! See how it encompasses everything?” “Oh, this is my favorite, the Genius Jester Hat! It-”

The last one was cut off when your chuckles exploded into full-fledged laughter, satisfying the clown. “Alright, alright, I get it,” you choked out and elbowed his arm.

Buggy summoned his hand back, suddenly, hyper aware of how close you two were. Shoulders touching slightly after your giggle-fest. Hands a breadth apart. Fingers so close they could touch if he simply reached out. Heat grew in the places close to you, as if you were setting him on fire. 

You weren't aware, but you were doing it again. Consuming his mind, his attention. The way you always watched him - observed, really - interested Buggy. Occupying areas of his mind until there were days where he could only think of you. Think of ways to get your eyes on him. Your attention focused on him. Your laugh creating music for his ears. Your smile. Your lips.

There were also nights where the thoughts of you flooded his mind. At first he’d ignore them, believing it was a passing fancy. But they wouldn’t leave him alone. Every glimpse of you kept the tantalizing visions buoyant. Any shred of attention you gave him added to the relentless waves in his head, until he succumbed. He’d let the swell of endless thoughts and images consume his body until he was left shuddering and gasping your name in the dark. And now, that familiar tempest was brewing inside the pirate.

Buggy pulled his knees up, hoping the position would hide the bulge growing in his pants. Sure, he could leave, but he felt greedy. He wanted more. He wanted to stay close to you. To listen to your breathing. Feel the heat of your body…

“Captain?” Your voice snapped him back into the moment. He hummed an acknowledgement.

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but I’ve been wondering why you always wear gloves.” You nudged your hand against his, skin against fabric.

“Why? It’s part of my schtick. My role as a performing artist,” Buggy boasted.

“Mmm, part of your costume?”

“Exactly.” Buggy was pleased that you understood, but your next question tested that warm feeling.

“Are you performing now? Is this a bit?”

Buggy stayed silent. He held up his gloved hands, thinking about how to answer. To be honest, he wasn’t sure himself. It didn’t feel like a bit or a performance. There was something genuine here.

You watched as Buggy pulled off his gloves and set them down. So that was his answer. Seeing his bare hands felt surprisingly intimate. His nails were painted. Thankfully the dark night hid the blush overtaking your face. You copied Buggy and held out your hands. The two of you mimicking each other, palms raised to the sky as if waiting to collect the stars themselves.

Buggy reached over to grab one of your hands, remarking at how small it is compared to his. Other than the tell-tale calluses that all pirates have, his skin was soft. You liked how his grasp enveloped your hand. It was gentle. Cautious. Buggy liked how your hand felt in his. Warm and accepting.

Something was caught in the pirate’s throat. Words he knew he shouldn’t say, but would cause him to explode if he kept them contained. Buggy swallowed the nerves that threatened to shake his voice.

“I need you to do me a favor.” 

“Yes, Captain?”

Fuck. Even though Buggy has heard those words from you many times before, this time it sounded different. Better.

“Get on top of me.”

You turned your head to see if you heard him right. Before you could ask and confirm, his detached hands were tugging and nudging you to move. Your body felt clumsy. It was in disbelief, trying to catch up to the thoughts running through your mind and the demanding hands maneuvering it into place. Nervous and confused, you straddled Buggy - trying very hard not to sit on him - and looked down. This was something you imagined before, but it was not how you expected it to go. Although Buggy avoided looking at you, choosing to scowl at a random area on the deck instead, the hands holding your hips told you that this is what he asked for

“Cap-”

“Don’t say anything. J-just…just do me this favor.” 

He saw you nod in the corner of his eye. He finally relaxed his legs, laying them back down. The hold on your hips tightened and Buggy pressed you down, wanting you to truly be on top of him. You weren’t prepared for the hard object beneath you or for it to press back when you made contact. You jumped in surprise but Buggy kept you in place. Finally, he looked at you. His eyebrows were pulled into a frown and his jaw was tight. As expressive as the pirate clown was normally, this was one expression you couldn’t decipher. There was the usual frustration, but also embarrassment - or was it fear? - and want.

You let his hands ease you back down on to the erection trapped in his pants, sighing as it sat snuggly against you. Buggy’s hands kneaded your hips as he hissed at the feeling. While his grasp was gentle when he held your hand, the way he squeezed your body was not the same. He clung to you as if you were the last match in a dark room. Something he desperately needed. Something that would grant all his wishes.

Buggy’s cock felt so hard that it was almost painful just sitting on it. When his hands began to pressure your hips back and forth, you welcomed the movement and rocked in time with his hold. Whenever he throbbed against your body, you returned the gesture by pressing into him more. You knew Buggy enjoyed that sensation by how he groaned and moved underneath you in ecstasy. It was mesmerizing and you wanted more. Leaning forwards, you placed your hands on Buggy’s chest and angled your hips so that you could grind yourself against his entire length. 

The unexpected pressure eased a low moan from the pirate. His eyes had been fluttering but now they opened wide to watch you. Fucking beautiful. That’s all Buggy could think at the moment. Your head was tilted back in bliss while little moans and whimpers slipped from your mouth. The way you worked your body on his, driving your hips against his cock, was far better than any meteor shower. Buggy felt himself get closer to the edge thinking about how your cunt was so close. Only a few measley layers of fabric kept him from ramming himself into your wet heat and fucking you until you saw stars.

You noticed that his cock was becoming needier by the moment, throbbing and twitching below you. Rolling your hips, you rubbed your clit against his hardness. The sensation rocked through your body, a terrible side effect of the delicious feeling which left you weak. Eager to chase the climax that was close, you wanted to ask your captain for help. Before you could get a full word out, your head was pulled backwards. A disembodied hand was entangled in your hair, drawing you into an arch. The change in position left your mouth open, but the tension prevented you from saying anything more. Unable to keep pressure on your clit, you felt the climax ebb away.

“S-shhhh, n-not a word,” Buggy groaned. 

He knew he took advantage of his position as your captain and couldn’t bear to think about what you might say while he was exerting that power. It was cowardly and pathetic, but he was too far gone.

Although Buggy still had one hand on your hip, he started bucking against you. His movements were forceful and sloppy. When Buggy gasped and his hips stuttered, you knew that he reached his end. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to imagine the lewd face he must be making. What his cock looked like releasing each stream of jizz. How it would feel in your cunt. Or in your mouth. What his cum tastes like.

Once Buggy stilled underneath you, he finally loosened his grip on your hair. Breathlessly, you looked at the flushed, panting, pirate before you. As the heat from Buggy’s climax dissipated and the load in his pants began to cool and clump together, he felt ashamed and sick of himself. He could barely look you in the eyes again. Giving into his cowardice, Buggy tried to ease you off of him before resorting to his devil fruit ability when he couldn’t quickly detangle your bodies.

“Wai-”

“Thanks.” Buggy spoke over you, still afraid to hear what you might say. What you might regret. He awkwardly picked his gloves off the floor before leaving, opting to have his feet walk away while the rest of his body floated. He already felt like shit and feeling the cold globs of sadness in his pants rub against him wouldn’t help.

And that’s where you finished the rest of your guard duty that night. It gave you plenty of time to think about what happened and analyze. And overthink. And overanalyze. That was an awful way to leave someone after using them like some sort of fuck toy. But…there was a part of you that liked it. He clearly wanted you. Or part of you. And you found that exciting.

Based on how Buggy practically fled the scene, you weren’t sure how things would be tomorrow. Still you couldn't help but think about what could have happened if you spoke up. What you wish happened instead.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy smut #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #x reader

[bones4thecats]

Which ror characters do you think would have this dynamic:

*reader being drunk as hell* *character trying to get her up to help her make it to bed* reader:"get the hell away from me i have a partner."

Character:...i AM your partner

Reader,smiling dumbly: "hi luv"

(if it's too bothersome feel free to skip)

A/N: OMG, this was so much fun to write for!! I love this dynamic in couples, my friend actually has this dynamic and I tease her for it all the time! This is the Gods edition, I’ll make a Humans one later. Anyways, enjoy~~

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💀 He may seem like he wants a regal and mature S/O, but let's be honest, he needs a chaotic one to balance him out

💀 So when you got drunk, holy hell, it was funnier than shit

💀 Hades came home and walked through the bedroom doors and saw as you laid on your back, allowing your top half to dangle off the edge and your bottom to hang on the bed top

💀 He chuckled and asked what you were doing in which you replied with;

“ Layin’ down. “

💀 You were slurring as you spoke, and with that, your body language, and the empty wine bottle that laid on the bedside table top led him to realize, you were drunk

💀 He bent his knees and began to lift you up before coaxing you into bed, and when he was about to lay beside you, you pushed him back up, and said;

“ Get the Helheim away from me, I have a husband. “

💀 Hades started to cry from holding back his laughter, answering with;

“ My Queen, I am your husband. “ “ Hi love. “

💀 He was not letting you gain access to his wine anytime soon

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💪 Like Hades, he seems like he wants a fairly mature S/O, but he does enjoy the amounts of randomness and seeming chaos you bring everywhere you turn

💪 He had been training with Ares’ army, since the God was busy with other work, and all he wanted was to lay down and take a well-deserved sleep with you by his side

💪 Heracles expected you to be sitting on the couch waiting for him, but seeing you sprawled out, snoring with an empty beer bottle on the ground, he chuckled, picked you up and laid you on the bed while he took a quick shower

💪 He knew you hated him laying in bed all sweaty and sticky

💪 When he finished his shower and got ready to lay down with you, you laid a hand on his chest while gently, yet firmly, pushing him away

“ Don’t come near me, I have a husband, and he would kick your butt for touching me. “

💪 He wanted to laugh so badly, and unlike Hades, he did, though he kept it at a low volume

“ Sweetheart, I am your husband. “ “ Hi love. “

💪 Seeing you smile made him chuckle, and lay down next to you as you relaxed

💪 He’s have to tell the others not to give you any alcohol anytime soon

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🌩️ He adores the chaos you bring around most of the time, but he doesn’t like it if it gets to be super extreme, so if Loki is involved, nope

🌩️ Thor and you seem to balance each other out well, he’s calm and quiet while you’re loud and oblivious

🌩️ He has seen your drunk before, but that time you just passed out after hugging him and making him carry you home from the meeting

🌩️ But he had never seen you this drunk

🌩️ Thor came home from his training and noticed a broken bottle on the ground with slight blood, and it made him ready himself, preparing to see something horrid

🌩️ He strode deeper inside your living room and saw you laying on the ground with a blanket lazily draped over your midsection, halfway off and halfway on

🌩️ Slight blood was dripping onto the ground and blanket from your hand, you must have dropped the bottle and tried cleaning it up

🌩️ Thor picked you up and laid you on the bed and motioned for the maids to clean the mess up while he took you to bed

🌩 Once he laid you down and tried to clean up your hard injury, you woke up and pushed him away from you with a pout

“ Get away from me… I have a husband, thank you. “ “ My bolt, I am your husband… ” “ Hi love… ”

🌩️ Sigh, this is why he doesn’t let Loki and you hang out

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📨 He didn’t keep that much alcohol inside the house, knowing you’d do something stupid with it

📨 The only stuff he kept was things like wines given to him on his birthdays and whatnot, but he made sure to keep it hidden very well from you

📨 When Hermes came home early that day, he had decided to break open a bottle of red wine with you, but when he went to go grab some, it was gone, and he froze

📨 Hearing stumbling come through the house made him grab a pair of scissors just in case and walk towards it, carefully not making much noise

📨 Hermes looked inside your room and saw you with a bottle in your hands, it was nearly fully empty, and by the way three more rested besides you, you were drunk off your ass

📨 He just chuckled at both your actions and his own

“ My dear, are you alright? “

📨 He grabbed the bottle and kneeled down to kiss your forehead before you stood up and caused him to headbutt you on accident, thankfully, you didn’t seem to feel it

“ I have a husband, and he can run circles around you, now, leave! “ “ Dear, I am your husband, but I thank you for the compliment. “ “ Hi love. “

📨 It took a while, but when he finally got you to sleep it was fun, especially when you woke up and remembered what you did, he was gonna use that against you for a while

#Record of Ragnarok #RoR #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie #SnV #RoR Greek Pantheon #RoR Norse Pantheon #Record of Ragnarok Gods #RoR Gods #Record of Ragnarok x Reader #RoR x Reader #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie x Reader #SnV x Reader #RoR Greek Pantheon x Reader #RoR Norse Pantheon x Reader #RoR Gods x Reader #Record of Ragnarok Gods x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #RoR Hades #RoR Hades x Reader #RoR Heracles #RoR Heracles x Reader #RoR Thor #RoR Thor x Reader #RoR Hermes #RoR Hermes x Reader

[megalony]

It's Yours

This is a new Evan Buckley imagine, based on an anon request. I hope you will all like it. Any feedback is always much appreciated and thank you for all the lovely requests I'm trying to work my way through them.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) breaks up with her abusive boyfriend, and finds a lot more than she bargained for with Evan, the guy at the bar who takes her home.

Enjoy.

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Pushing her glass across the bar, (Y/n) stretched her arms out in font of her and leaned her head forward. Her lips curved into a small, tepid smile and she nodded at the bartender to refill her empty glass. She wanted her fourth drink and she wanted to feel a buzz. Now.

Usually cocktails gave a very strong buzz despite tasting nothing like alcohol and feeling more like orange juice. (Y/n) wasn't feeling anything tonight.

Her fingers curled around the long neck of the cocktail glass and she rolled the glass between her finger and thumb so she could remove the edging of sugar all around the rim of the glass. Once each fleck of sugar was gone, (Y/n) downed the drink all in one go.

She watched the bartender disappear to the other end of the bar and lazily pushed the glass away from her again. He would know to refill it once he came back this way.

When she felt her phone vibrate next to her arm, she twisted her arm to try and reach for it. The cocktails must have started to have an effect as her hand knocked her phone off the edge of the bar rather than reaching to grab it. At least it landed on a carpeted floor. No chance of having a broken screen to finish off a horribly rough night.

(Y/n) leaned down over the side of the bar stool and grabbed her phone, but as she reeled back up again, the back of her head bashed into something.

A gasp burned at the back of her throat and her free hand moved to cradle the back of her head, letting go of the edge of the bar that she had gripped to keep her balance. Before (Y/n) even started to sway or wobble, a hand curled firmly around her elbow and her temple pressed into someone's abdomen.

"I- I'm so sorry!" Words tumbled from the stranger's lips like a waterfall.

The hand that was around her elbow effortlessly took her weight and lifted her back up so she was sitting upright in her seat again like she weighed nothing more than a feather.

No words left (Y/n)'s lips when she looked up.

He was handsome. The striped black and white shirt he wore seemed two sizes too small for him. It made his shoulders bulge out against the material and the short cuffs over his biceps looked like they were digging into his muscle like a turniquet trying to cut off his circulation. He had a broad, hard chest and high-waisted black trousers pulled tight over his hips.

His hair was the colour of brown sugar and formed soft waves that were swept to the back of his head.

Those eyes were the deepest shade of blue (Y/n) had ever seen and they looked glossed over as if they were crafted out of clay and paint that hadn't had chance to dry. His lips were a dark shade of rouge and when he darted his tongue out over his lower lip, (Y/n) found herself taking a sharp breath.

"Are you alright?" Concern pooled in his enlarged pupils and she realised his hand was still holding onto her elbow. While his other hand was clenched tight around a beer bottle that was meshed up into his shirt.

"I'm okay," Her voice came out quiet and weak and (Y/n) internally cringed at her tone. Why did she sound so childish?

She dropped her hand from the back of her head before she trailed her palm over the back of her neck and down between her shoulders. She must have clocked her head into his elbow and spilt his drink. His bottle was half-empty but (Y/n) could see beige droplets coating his hand and down the neck of the bottle. Some of the beer had gone down the back of her cardigan and through to her shirt.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking, uh… can I buy you a drink, to say sorry?"

His hand finally dropped from her elbow and (Y/n) suddenly felt lonesome and cold, but she tried to brush off the feeling.

Evan watched the way her eyes darted down to the bottle in his hand before she looked back up at him. The way she bit her lip made his chest tighten and he could do nothing but watch the way she brushed a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.

"I spilt your drink, I think I owe you a drink." When he motioned towards the vacant stool next to her, (Y/n) wordlessly nodded and turned to face the bar again. She dropped her phone on the counter and waved her hand to grab the bartender's attention. "What'll it be?"

"Whatever you're having."

"Two more please, keep them coming." (Y/n) slid her glass over the counter before she rolled her neck and shivered. She could feel the beer soaking into the back of her top and it made her skin prickle.

Her arms reached down behind her and she shimmied her black cardigan off her shoulders and let it pool on the floor, curved around the legs of the stool. At least her shirt didn't feel like it was soaked in beer, not a lot had spilled on her, thankfully. And the bar was starting to get crowded, all the bodies meshed together pushing into the bar, mulling around for a table and the people dancing in the far corner were creating a lot of heat. The AC didn't seem to be working either which wasn't helping.

Evan felt his breath hitching in his throat when she let her jacket drop down to the floor. It made her hair fan across her shoulders that were exposed to his eyes and he let his eyes wander down her frame despite everything in him telling him not to oogle.

She was wearing a dark navy blue shirt that hung off both her shoulders with thin straps and the bottom of her shirt was tucked into her jeans that cut off just before her ankles. He could see her foot swaying back and forth, rocking and shimmying the small black heels on her feet like she was waving daggers around for protection.

He could feel his teeth sinking into his lip until his eyes trailed down her arms.

Bruises.

She had fresh bruising pooling on her lower left forearm that was closest to him and markings and scratches around her wrist. When Evan trailed his eyes back along her exposed skin, he noticed a deep red scratch along her neck starting just beneath her ear.

When their eyes locked, Evan forced his lips to curve into a smile and he kept hs eyes trained on her face so she wouldn't think he was staring at her oddly.

"I'm Evan, but everyone calls me Buck."

"(Y/n)."

She nodded her head at him and slid a glass his way and her smile made Evan's stomach flip. He could see her sinking her teeth into her lip to stop her smile from becoming too wide as if she thought smiling somehow ruined her features or would push him away.

He took the glass and clinked it against hers before taking a large gulp. "What brings you here?"

(Y/n) tried to pace herself and only drink half her glass instead of throwing the whole drink back in one. She didn't want to embarrass herself or push away the handsome stranger who had decided to talk to her tonight. Her finger moved to swirl around the rim of her glass and she slowly collected the tiny cubes of sugar before she bit down on her finger and let the sugar dissolve on her tongue.

"Bad night… what about you?" It had been a bad night for (Y/n). One of the worser nights she had spent and the only solace she could find was drowning herself in alcohol to try and make the panic dwindle away.

Marcus had no right to speak to her the way he had done tonight.

Every time he threw a fist at her, (Y/n) walked away. He was starting to become dangerous. For the last four or five months, (Y/n) must have walked out on him over seven times already. When he tried to hit her, she left. When he grabbed her and tossed her onto the sofa, she smacked him and walked out, promising herself she wouldn't go back.

It was harder than she thought when he turned up on her doorstep, refusing to leave. It felt easier to let him worm his way back into her life with sordid excuses and feeble promises of never being that cruel or rude or hateful again. She had been with him for two and a half years. It was hard to throw that time away and call it quits.

Especially when no one else seemed to want to be around her and all she could hear in the back of her head was Marcus's voice telling her she couldn't do any better than him. No one else was going to put up with her or want to be around her and if she truly loved him and knew he loved her, she didn't have the right to walk away.

"I've just pulled a triple shift and… I don't know, didn't fancy going home to an empty place, I guess."

Evan hadn't been home in over two days and this afternoon when he finally finished his long shift and was able to go home, something told him not to. He showered and changed at the station, left his jeep in the station car park and made his way into town.

Something told Evan to wander into a bar and have a drink. Going home to an empty apartment wasn't appealing. He and Taylor had broken up; he couldn't be dealing with someone who wasn't willing to put him first and who could so easily break his trust without thinking it was a problem.

And when the rest of the team were going home to their families, Evan suddenly felt lonelier than ever and he wasn't going home to cement that fact in his mind. At least not unless he was drunk and able to cope with his loneliness.

"What do you do?"

"I work for the fire department. You?"

"Oh wow. I'm a book editor, nothing as exciting or strenuous as you I'm afraid." (Y/n) finished the rest of her drink and something within her told her to prepare for Evan to leave. After all, what would a fireman be doing talking to a little book worm like her?

But surprise flooded her face and parted her lips when he pushed their empty glasses across the bar and asked for a round of shots. Was he really going to stay and talk to her? Why was someone like him sitting with someone like her? If he thought he had to stay out of pity (Y/n) would correct him. He didn't have to hang around for her benefit, he could go home with anyone in the whole place or chat up someone else.

He wouldn't want to spend the rest of his night boring himself to death talking to her… would he?

He stayed. (Y/n) wasn't sure how long they had been sat at the bar, but it was long enough for the bartender to switch shifts with someone else and for the music on the dance floor to get even louder to accomodate everyone piling in the bar.

Glasses lined the bar in front of her and Evan and she could tell he was getting tipsy now whereas she finally started to feel that drunken buzz that made her head swim and her muscles to loosen up and feel relaxed.

She loved the way Evan leaned his head on his arm and grinned over at her. He suddenly looked so childish and carefree and overall charming, even after however many drinks they had downed during the evening.

She didn't want to tear her gaze away from him, but she looked to the right when her phone started to vibrate and jump on the bar.

It was Marcus.

Without thinking, (Y/n) double clicked the side button and cut the call. She wasn't giving him the time of day. Not when the call disappeared and she could see flashes of all the texts he had sent since she walked out the door.

'Where are you?' 'Where the fuck did you go?' 'You need to come home. Now. We have to talk.' 'Why do you always do this to me?' '(Y/n) ANSWER ME!'

Blocking his number didn't work. Marcus would just change his number and turn up on her doorstep and make her unblock his phone. He never seemed to let her go and (Y/n) always let him back in.

Not this time. Not after he'd gone so far as to try and grab her neck. If she hadn't of swung her fist out and clamped him round the side of the head, she knew he would of strangled her. It was why her neck now burned with a large scratch and why he had tried to grab her and twist her wrist to prevent her from leaving. She wasn't going back to his place anymore. She wasn't going to let him back into her apartment or let him walk all over her and get controlling again.

They were finished and Marcus had to understand that. He had to know he couldn't have anymore control over (Y/n).

"All good?" Even in his drunken state, Evan noticed the shiver that rolled down (Y/n)'s arms and the way she delicately brushed her fingertips absentmindedly over the mark on her neck.

But when she looked back at him, her lips curved into a smile. A genuine, dazzling curve of her lips that was nothing like how she had tried to smile at the start of the night. He watched her push her phone away and turn on the stool until she was facing him and her knees bumped into his.

"All good," She repeated with a drunken nod of her head.

Evan wasn't sure where the sudden burst of adrenaline came from, but he pushed up so he was sitting straight and he leaned across until he could just about nudge the end of his nose against hers. His left arm stayed slumped on the bar while his right hand reached out to cup her jaw.

He brushed his thumb across her jaw and gently swiped it across her lower lip that he couldn't stop staring at.

He stole all the air from her lungs when he kissed her.

(Y/n) reached her hand out to cup the wrist that was near her chin and she held onto him for dear life, as if letting go would cause her to fall and never land. She felt his tongue prodding at her lips, asking for entrance while his fingers curled around the side of her jaw, but Evan's touch was so much softer and more reaffirming than what she was used to or expecting.

When he pulled back, (Y/n) tipped her forehead against his and heaved to catch her breath back. She could feel his breaths fanning against her lips and his lower lip started to swell from where she had sank her teeth down into it.

There was a hooded look in his eyes and his lips curved up into a widespread grin that felt infectious.

"Wanna get out of here?"

(Y/n) leaned over until her free hand could slide over Evan's knee and shift along his thigh while her lips captured his. She felt his leg jump when she squeezed his upper thigh and leaned closer until she was about to fall off her chair and directly onto his lap. He had stolen the words right out her mouth.

She did want to leave. She wanted to get out of this crowded bar and she wanted him to take her somewhere. Anywhere. As long as he took her with him.

"Definitely."

***

"Can we talk?"

'You're not the one I need to talk to.' Those words hung on the tip of (Y/n)'s tongue but she couldn't bring herself to say them. She couldn't say something that would rile him up and provoke him, that was the last thing she needed right now.

(Y/n) curved her arms around her chest, binding them tight to see if it would do anything to reduce the panic swarming through her chest or make her think of him. Of Evan. If she closed her eyes and squeezed tight enough, it might make her feel like she had him wrapped around her.

She wanted to feel that sense of security he gave her.

Her head tilted back against the brick wall and she dropped her eyes to her feet, not wanting to give Marcus the satisfaction of looking him in the eye.

She had gone almost three months without seeing him or bumping into him. This was the first time she had properly managed to break up with him and stay away from him for good. She didn't go back and ask to smooth things over. She didn't have him banging on her apartment door at one in the morning because he knew she would have to let him in or risk neighbours calling the police.

He hadn't turned up at her place of work- until today, for near on three months.

(Y/n) had finally started to move away from him and move on and she had found someone who she had suddenly become attached to.

Sleeping with Evan the first night she met him hadn't been something (Y/n) planned to do, but it happened nonetheless. Waking up in his bed had been a shock for both of them, but not a bad one.

She left for work the next morning before realising she didn't get Evan's number. When she closed her eyes, she could imagine that second time she saw him.

* She was being silly. It was probably a one-night stand for him. He most likely didn't give her his number for a reason. He didn't want to see her again or call her or text her. She was just a distant memory that could already have faded from his mind for all (Y/n) knew. She was the bookworm he picked up two weeks ago at a bar. He could have picked her up and brought her home to win a bet.

Would he really have brought her home if he only wanted one night with her? Why not ask to go back to her place instead of his? Why let her see his home and know where he lived and let her stay the night if all he wanted was sex that could be forgotten in the morning?

Why would he-

Her breath caught like a lump in the back of her throat and her arms bound around her chest so her hands could scrunch up in her shirt when her eyes locked on him.

He was home. The last two times (Y/n) had tried to visit and see if he was home, he wasn't in and she could only guess that he was out at work.

She watched the way his hand tightened around the door and his jaw slacked and for a horrible moment, (Y/n) thought he was going to slam the door shut in her face. She thought he was going to roll his eyes or sigh or plainly tell her to leave. But he didn't.

"(Y/n)." Her name fell from his lips like an angel falling from grace and before she could move, Evan was suddenly reaching out for her. "Finally."

Evan's last word caught her by surprise but he didn't give her the chance to question what he meant by that. His arm swooped around her waist and he reeled her inside like she had been stood out in the rain for far too long. Her hands found his shoulders to steady herself before she tripped and she wanted to smile but she couldn't.

His lips devoured hers before she could grin or say hello or ask him how he was.

She let him lean down and plaster his chest up against hers and she almost melted when his hand pressed up against her lower back to keep her close. (Y/n) had been thinking of what to say if he ever opened the door to her when she dropped by.

When she left for work after their night together, he'd asked her to call him and she promised she would. But she walked out the door and picked up Evan's keys by mistake and then realised when she got to work that she didn't even have his number saved in her phone.

She could of slid the keys beneath his apartment door and said no more about it, but she held onto them for the chance that he would be home when she came by. And she needed her keys back. She was using her spare set of keys to get in and out her apartment.

When he pulled back for air, Evan pulled (Y/n) inside and nudged the door shut. He let his temple press down into hers and he couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face. He didn't have any way to get hold of her after she left. He didn't have her number, he didn't know where she lived or where she worked. All he had was the bar they met in and that wasn't much help.

He had been praying she would come back to his place and after two weeks, his wishes had finally paid off.

He kept both his hands clamped down on her hips as if needing to make sure she wasn't about to break free from his arms and try to disappear on him again. He could barely register the way she pulled out his keychain from her pocket and jingled it in front of him.

"Thanks," He breathed quietly against her lips as he moved one hand from her waist to grab the keys. He tossed them onto the side unit near the door and leaned down until his hands cupped the back of (Y/n)'s thighs.

He felt the way her hands slid round from his shoulders to cup the back of his neck and she let him lift her up so her legs could hook around his torso.

The feeling of his lips attaching back to hers made (Y/n) feel lightheaded and she dug her nails into the back of his neck to try and ground herself. But it earned a guttural groan to vibrate up through Evan's chest and the sound only made her press her lips down harder onto his. She sunk her teeth into his llip and gave a sharp tug while he turned and started to walk into the apartment.

And she was sure she heard him mutter "I'm getting your number this time," against her lips. *

"Can we talk?" Marcus's voice came out a lot sterner and colder this time and it made (Y/n) grimace as she pulled herself out of a memory and back to the present.

She juggled her bag higher on her shoulder and nodded. Her arms stayed wrapped around her waist for comfort more than anything else and she pushed off the wall and started walking. He could follow her this time. Marcus could follow her head and her instructions and realise they were doing things by her rules.

He wasn't grabbing her and dragging her away, he wasn't picking where they went and he wasn't going to steer the conversation his way.

(Y/n) needed to talk to him. She needed to make sure he understood that the last three months had been the best of her life because she had been away from him. They were broken up this time, for good, and she wasn't going back to him.

She had had two one-night stands and a date with Evan and that was what (Y/n) wanted. She wanted to try and make something with Evan and forget Marcus was ever in her life.

(Y/n) led him round the corner, away from her work and to the nearest cafe. When Marcus tried to reach out to hold her arm, she shook him off and added a safe amount of distance between them so not even their arms could accidentally brush together.

"What do you want to talk about?" Her voice was cold and indifferent and she found a table in the corner of the cafe, out the way of everyone else. It was a strange coincidence that Marcus had found her today. Right when she knew she had to talk to him to make sure things were ironed out between the, before she had to talk to Evan.

She slumped into a seat and dropped her bag beneath the table by her feet while Marcus moved to sit opposite her.

He dragged his hand through his hair, brushing the loose, greasy curls away from his eyes and behind his ears. He pressed both his elbows down into the table and kept one hand curled around the back of his neck like he was holding his head up as if his neck had suddenly been broken.

"Us."

(Y/n) couldn't refrain from rolling her eyes and she let herself sink back into the uncomfortable wooden chair with her arms still crossed over her chest.

"This is the longest you've held out on me. When are you gonna come home?" He always seemed to think referring to his place as home would soften (Y/n) up and make her want to go back with him.

She had moved out of her old apartment and moved in with Marcus after being together a few months. But last year after he grabbed her by her hair in public, (Y/n) moved out. She got her own apartment and left him. It didn't stop Marcus from coming back time and time again and (Y/n) usually went back to him. Their turbulent relationship had been on and off again for over a year now, but (Y/n) always kept her apartment and never went back to living with Marcus.

She would stay with him from time to time, but she never lived with him. It wasn't safe. And she didn't want to be in a relationship with him anymore.

"Being with you isn't my home Marcus, and you know it." She could feel panic rocketing through her chest when Marcus suddenly sat forward and leaned over the table. But whatever he wanted to retaliate with, he swallowed down because a waitress came over to ask for their order.

"Coffee." He grumbled while he clenched his hands together in front of him and pressed his knuckles against his lips.

"Iced tea please," (Y/n) pulled her sleeves down over her hands and dropped her arms so her hands were left on her lap.

"(Y/n), come on. You always come back. We're good together, you're supposed to be with me and you need to come home. I've forgiven you."

(Y/n) face dropped and she sat upright with a scoff. She could feel tears bubbling over in her eyes already and she tried her best to bite them back and control herself. How dare he. Why was he trying to pin this on her? Who could she kid, he always made it seem like it was her fault. If he hit her, she provoked him. If he shouted, it was because she argued with him first. If she left, it was because she was being petty and stupid. Nothing was his fault. Ever.

"You- you've forgiven me… what for? You were the one who attacked me-"

"I didn't attack you, stop exaggerating." He snapped his jaw like a crocodile and slammed his hands down when the waitress brought their drinks over. He made the poor girl jump back and spill some of the iced tea down her hand, but neither of them dared say anything until she walked away.

"I was the one with the bruises! You tried to grab my throat, why the Hell would you need to forgive me when I had every right to leave?"

Anger riled through (Y/n) and she suddenly didn't want her drink anymore. She reached out for the straw and started to prod and poke at the ice cubes clinking together in the tall glass. She had nothing to apologise for.

When Evan asked where the bruises on her arms came from and the scratch on her neck, (Y/n) didn't see the point in hiding it. She found herself being suddenly open and honest with Evan and she wasn't sure why. He made her feel safe. She felt able to tell him that Marcus had a flaring temper that made him aggressive and sometimes, (Y/n) didn't know what set him off.

Evan hastened to tell her she didn't do anything. None of this was her doing and she had no reason to apologise to Marcus now.

"Just come home-"

"No. Marcus… please, listen to me now." (Y/n) pushed her drink to one side and stretched her hands out to plant them on the table. "This has to stop. I don't want to be with you, I'm done with you. With everything, it's finished. So you need to start leaving me alone, for good."

He laughed. He had the nerve to sit there and laugh as if she was telling him a silly joke or as if this was all a game and he thought he was winning.

"Why would you say something so stupid? You do this routine every time we have a fight, (Y/n). You come crawling back, always have and always will-"

"I'm pregnant."

She spoke before she lost her nerve.

(Y/n) had to tell Marcus because she was ninety percent sure that her dates weren't mixed up and that this couldn't be his baby. They used protection whereas (Y/n) knew she didn't when she was with Evan. A rookie mistake, but it made her sure this was Evan's baby and not Marcus's.

But she needed to tell him because she wanted him to stay away from her. If he knew she had moved on and slept with someone else, he would be jealous but he might just stay away from her now. And he would do the math in his head and try to work out for them both and make sure this wasn't his child. (Y/n) couldn't have a baby with him. She couldn't have that attachment to Marcus for the rest of her life or she would never be free of him.

"You're joking me, right?" His lips quirked up to one side and he folded his arms over his chest like he thought this was some sort of test.

"No. I'm about eleven weeks-"

"You can't be."

"What?" Her shoulders dropped and she sighed. If he wanted evidence she would take the test out of her bag and show him the results from her trip to the doctors. That would be enough to prove to him that she was having a baby and he had to give up and leave her alone now.

"I can't have kids (Y/n). I'm infertile, so you can't be pregnant. Stop trying to fuck about and twist everything, if you want me back you don't have to come up with this lame excuse."

He couldn't see the relief in her eyes. Marcus couldn't sense the adrenaline fluttering around in (Y/n)'s stomach as she sank back in her chair and threw her head back. Her eyes fell closed before her head started to swim and she found herself grinning very slightly.

It was Evan's.

If Marcus couldn't have kids, it had to be Evan's baby just like she predicted it would be. Now she thought about it, (Y/n) was sure when she first got with Marcus, she remembered him saying something along the lines of 'you don't have to worry about that' when she asked if he had protection. She paid no mind to it, she didn't give it a second thought.

But he was adamant, he was being serious. (Y/n) could see it in his eyes and it made her happy beyond words. She would never have something that attached her to Marcus for the rest of her life. If she wanted to cut him from her life, she had every right and every chance now. It just left Evan for her to worry about.

"(Y/n)!"

A bolt of pain shot through her knee when Marcus slammed his foot into her leg but she bit down her cry and jolted to look back at him. Her hands fumbled to grab her bag beneath the table and she pulled out the positive pregnancy test so she could slide it across the table.

"How can you-"

"Because it's not yours, Marcus. So you need to stay away from me now, I'm through with you."

He really was slow sometimes. It didn't dawn on him that when they separated, (Y/n) might find someone else or sleep with someone else for a one night stand. He thought she moped around her flat, waiting for him to call or come back and ask her to come home. He thought (Y/n)'s world revolved solely around him and that showed how shallow he really was.

"Well then who the fuck's is it?" His voice suddenly boomed around the cafe and (Y/n) shivered, sinking down in her seat when heads started to turn in their direction.

This was why she wanted to talk in public. She had been planning to call and ask to talk but she wanted to be somewhere with witnesses. (Y/n) was through with being alone in a secluded flat with Marcus and not having any way to prove how he treated her when he lost his temper.

"Who have you been whoring around with? Do you even know his name? Who have you slept with?"

A scream burst past (Y/n)'s lips and her shoulders hunched inwards as she leaned towards the wall on her left when Marcus lashed out. He grabbed her glass of iced tea that was in the middle of the table and launched it her way, narrowly missing her head by half a centimetre.

She could feel the ice cubes hitting her arms before they clattered to the floor and a whole load of the cold tea drenched her neck and her right arm, soaking through her shoulder and into her waist and made her shiver. Glass sprinkled against the wall behind her and (Y/n) stayed deathly still with her eyes closed, waiting for the atmosphere and the glass to settle before she dared move.

Her trembling hands planted down on the table and she tried to stand up, she wanted to leave now.

Marcus was causing a scene and (Y/n) hated being around when he did something like this. She didn't want the attention falling on her and right now, people were getting up from their seats and trying to approach them. She wanted to go home.

"Please don't do this-"

"You think I'm letting you get away with this little stunt? Tell me his name!"

(Y/n) scraped her chair back and stumbled but she couldn't move quick enough before Marcus latched his fingers into her hair and wrenched her towards him. Her nails scratched into his wrist as she screamed, closing her eyes as tightly as she could when he pushed her down to her knees.

She could feel the broken glass and soggy tea soaking into her knees and it felt like blisters had suddenly sweltered onto her skin when the sharp, jagged pieces tore through her leggings and into her skin.

No one dared move closer when one of the waiter's approached and Marcus threw a chair in his direction.

(Y/n) pinned her hands over her head and tried to take deep breaths. Her blood was pounding in her ears and her stomach was churning, but she could just about make out a frightened woman say she was dialling 911.

She didn't have the strength or the energy to try and get up when Marcus leaned back over her again. She kept her eyes tightly closed but she could hear the cafe door opening and the few people inside were starting to rush out onto the street. No one was going to come near Marcus when there was a knife on the table next to him and is eyes kept going back to it.

He would attack anyone who came near.

Her body shuddered and she cried out when Marcus gripped her chin and tilted her head up, shaking her head until she groaned and finally looked up at him.

"What's the fucker's name?" His voice turned oddly calm and serene and it made (Y/n) shiver down to her shoes.

(Y/n) tilted her head to the side to pull out of his grasp and she held her head high when Marcus crouched down in front of her. His elbows rested on his knees and he laced his fingers together between his thighs while he waited somewhat patiently for an answer. His chest was heaving, spit was dribbling down the corner of his chin and his eyes were wild. (Y/n) had never seen such a frightening, rabid look in his eyes before.

She didn't answer. Instead, (Y/n) lifted her head so they were level and spat in his face.

Her head reeled to the right when he slapped her. The back of his hand lashed out against her face and she knew he'd managed to cut her cheek with the sharp edge of his ring. The pain countered out with adrenaline after half a second and all (Y/n) could feel was panic bubbling up in her chest like a pot about to boil over on the stove.

She couldn't remember the last time Marcus had been like this with her in public. He always kept their fights behind closed doors, he knew how to play the situation in public. He knew how to pretend to be clingy or sweet or act a gentleman and then throw his fists when they got home. The news had clearly derranged Marcus today.

"His name."

"Why? Do you want him to give you some pointers?"

When he reeled back to slap her again, (Y/n) thrust her arms out and rammed them into his chest to knock him off balance. The moment he fell onto his back, (Y/n) used the nearest table as leverage to get herself up onto trembling legs. She stumbled over Marcus and aimed for the door while she heard him roar and slam his hands and feet into the floor to try and get up.

A ragged, breathless scream left (Y/n)'s lips when she felt Marcus behind her and she curled her hand around the door and yanked it open. She flung the door open as fast as she could while she ducked down to the right.

Marcus's hand went straight through the glass pane. His fist burst through the glass which imbedded into his forearm and scratched down his wrist. But the window pane didn't completely shatter. (Y/n) had unintentionally trapped Marcus's arm in the door and it was her chance. She crawled through the small open gap in the door and stumbled into the doorway.

Her legs gave way and she slumped down onto her knees, moving to sit down with her back up against the wall as she heaved each breath through bubbling cries.

The sound of sirens overpowered the sound of Marcus screaming as he tried to drag his hand back through the window.

A fire truck pulled up. They must have been the closest emergency service available when that woman called 911. The police had to be on their way soon, they needed to take Marcus into custody and keep him as far away from (Y/n) as possible.

"LAFD, what's the situation here?"

(Y/n) watched the older man climb down from the truck and leave his helmet on the side of the pavement. He had a red label in the centre of his helmet that read Captain. He was in charge. He made his way towards one of the waitresses but when the rest of his crew started to climb down from the truck, (Y/n) felt lightheaded.

Evan.

Oh God. This was his station department. This was the team he told her about, the people he worked with.

Why did he of all people have to come to this call out? What if Marcus said something and Evan caught on? She didn't want to have this conversation with Evan now. He wasn't going to be happy when he learned the girl he slept with was now pregnant. The girl he barely knew. The girl with a troublesome ex hovering in the background.

More tears streamed down (Y/n)'s face when Evan's eyes locked on her and she saw the panic bubbling up inside of them. She saw the panic written across his face and the way he picked up the pace to rush towards her.

"We're not finished-"

"No!" (Y/n) scraped her palms against the floor until they started to give her cuts and scratches. She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled out into the street as Marcus freed his arm from the door and flung it wide open to try and grab her again.

Her body started to flag but (Y/n) ran, flinging her arm out at the captain who tried to grab her to calm her down. She wasn't aiming for him.

"S-stop him! Make h-him stop- please!" Words flew past her lips in a fluster as she made a beeline for Evan.

Her hands scratched deeply into his bicep and she used his arm as leverage to swing herself around and move behind him. Her face pressed between his shoulder blades and her hands scrunched up around his arm. Evan could feel how badly she was shaking when she started to make him jitter back and forth on the spot. He reached his left arm behind him and clamped his hand down on (Y/n)'s hip to keep her safe and secured behind him like he was a human shield.

It didn't take much for him to gather that this had to be her ex.

"Get back." The words seethed past Evan's lips while he reached his right hand out and slammed his palm into the man's chest. He gave him a forceful shove backwards while he walked back into (Y/n) and nudged her to move a few paces away. He needed to keep a safe distance between them all.

"Sir- that's enough. Stand over here so you can be assessed or we'll have to restrain you."

Bobby and Eddie grabbed one of Marcus's arms each and dragged him towards the doorway of the cafe. They slumped him down onto the floor with one of Bobby's hands pinned into his chest while Eddie held his damaged arm to try and take a look. They had the right to restrain him if he was going to try and attack someone in public.

The police were on their way to this scene now anyway, he would be arrested once he was patched up and given the all clear.

A deep sigh burned past Evan's lips before he released his hand from (Y/n)'s hip and turned around to face her. He could see the shaking rattling through her body and tears were streaming down her face although she did look a little calmer now than when they first pulled up.

"Are you alright… did he hurt you?"

(Y/n) rubbed her hands together, trying to flick off the grit and gravel stuck to her palms. She had a few little cuts on her hands but nothing substancial.

She stayed quiet when Evan held her wrists and pulled her hands up so he could inspect them for himself. But when he tilted his head to the side and looked down, his shoulders sagged and he bit down on the corner of his lip. Her knees were bleeding. Shards of glass were poking out through her leggings and blood was trickling down towards her ankles.

"Let's sit down, I'll take a look at that for you," He motioned down towards her knees but he turned to look over his shoulder when (Y/n) shuddered. Her eyes were focused on the scene behind him.

"Sir-"

"Marcus!"

"Alright. Marcus, let's put it this way. You try again to attack her, we restrain you and you'll be arrested. What is this argument about?" Bobby was getting tired. He was tired of trying to push Marcus down and make him stay sat down on the floor in front of the cafe.

He must realise that he and the other girl needed to be checked over and he couldn't try to keep attacking her in public like this. They had to be kept separate for their own sakes and he needed to let Eddie treat his arm that was cut up and still had shards of glass imbedded in it.

"Ask her! Ask her whose it is." Marcus flung his right arm out towards (Y/n) who visibly flinched and took a step back. "Go on. Whose bastard child is it, 'cos it sure as Hell ain't mine!"

A groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips before she brought her hands up to smother her face.

Why wouldn't he stop? Couldn't he for once, just leave her alone and stop causing a mess of everything? It didn't make things any easier that Evan was here and (Y/n) knew for certain that he had just heard what Marcus had said. He wasn't stupid. He could put two and two together and make four. He was going to find out and this wasn't how (Y/n) wanted to have this conversation with him.

It wasn't fair.

Panic radiated through (Y/n)'s system when she dared to move her hands down to cover her mouth and nose, allowing her eyes to be visible.

Evan had gone deathly pale. His hands were held halfway out between them like he wanted to reach for her but didn't know what to do or how he was supposed to act now. His eyes had gone suddenly blank even though his pupils had blown wide and his jaw slacked but he still didn't say anything.

Turning on her heels, (Y/n) stumbled away and moved as close to the fire truck as she could. She needed to be away from them all. She didn't want Evan to stand and look at her like that and she didn't want to be anywhere near Marcus. She didn't want to hear his threats or see those horrible, beady eyes glaring daggers into her. Being around him made her a target because he wasn't calming down at all.

Her body jumped when familiar hands clamped down on her arms and stopped her before she could walk any further.

Her back slumped down into a familiar chest and (Y/n) stayed still and silent, allowing Evan to gently turn her to the right. He moved her over until she could sit down on the step at the back of the fire truck.

(Y/n) rubbed her hands up and down her thighs while Evan stood in front of her, his knees almost touching hers with how close he stood. He had one hand on his hip and the other was dragging slowly through his hair until the waves were disgruntled and flopping about on his head.

"What did he mean? Is- are you- God, are you pregnant?"

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and kept her head tilted down, but she managed to lift her gaze just enough to look up at Evan through her lashes. She couldn't find any words. All the air was stuck in the back of her throat creating a blockage that was making her lungs quiver and tense in her chest. The only right answer was yes but (Y/n) couldn't bring herself to say it so she simply nodded her head.

"Is it mine?" His voice suddenly turned soft like he was melting before her and it made (Y/n)'s eyes narrow on him.

He wasn't shouting at her. He wasn't riling up, getting ready to start a fight with her or argue or say how much of a shitty situation this was. He wasn't even frowning at her. He was just… looking at her. Staring down with those soft blue eyes and those ruby red lips that were pressed together in a thin line.

"It's yours. I, I wasn't gonna tell you like this I swear." (Y/n) found her voice but it was meek and fast-paced until she was tripping over her words. And her hands were digging into her thighs to try and calm herself sown.

A quiet hum vibrated past Evan's lips before he moved to crouch down in front of her. His eyes trailed back along her knees that he would have to assess soon and try to patch them up. He moved his hands to her thighs and carefully parted them so he could kneel between her legs, feeling her trembling knees dig comfortably into his waist.

"Are you mad?"

"Mad?" Evan couldn't stop his lips from quirking up into a lopsided smile and he squeezed her thigh until she gathered the strength to move her hand and cup his wrist. "Why would I be mad? This might not be the ideal situation, but it's not a bad one either."

(Y/n) had played on Evan's mind since the moment they met. He couldn't think of anything or anyone else except her. She was the only thing playing on Evan's mind and he felt intoxicated by her; addicted to her.

This wasn't how he would have chosen for things to play out, this wasn't the perfect order for things to go. But this was the situation they found themselves in and they would have to make the most of it and see where it led them. Evan had always wanted kids, he knew that from the off. And now it seemed fate had decided this was the moment he started to have kids and something told him this was a good thing. Something told Evan that this was going to work out just fine.

"Really?" (Y/n) leaned forward until she was close enough to cup Evan's face in her hands. Her thumb brushed across his cheek and she leaned her forehead against his when a brighter smile broke out on his face.

"Yeah… I guess we've just done things in a different order to everyone else, huh?"

(Y/n) could barely comprehend his words when his lips pressed against hers. Maybe things were going to work out after all.

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #imagine #911 imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #bucky x reader

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

Friends w/ Benefits !!

- with the South Park Boys / x Reader

|| NSFW HC’S & SCENARIOS ||

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Author’s Note ;

Sup, so I decided on making multiple little scenarios and ideas of what I think would happen if you were in a FWB relationship with these dudes. Trust me, it’s going to get spicy and interesting. And if you’re looking for that, you’ve come to the right place. Keep in mind, the characters are all going to be in their college years so they will be 18+. Not trying to have them in elementary. And if you’re near that age, get out of here kid, this is definitely not for you.

Before I make this too long, I’m going to end this here. Enjoy, tread carefully, I’ll add warnings about what’s in there and details so check that out before you dive too far in. Unless you’re a veteran. HAHAHA

P.S, I didn’t add in Cartman because I’m an AVID hater, I’m sorry in advance! But, I did add somebody I adore: Craig! Although, it’s kinda gay, but that’s for the boys or transmascs. Y’know, I gotta provide!

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Point of View : First P.O.V.

Character’s in here : Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Kenny McCormick, and Craig Tucker.

╒══════════════════════╕

#1 ; Stan Marsh

The song that I thought fit this best :

Sexual Dynamic : Fem!Dom | Masc!Sub

What’s in here : Mentions of throwing-up (obviously), dom fem reader, edging, and drunk oral sex.

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- Phew, this dude will take FOREVER before he comes around to this idea.

- I feel like this would be the case of not trying to move too fast into a relationship because let’s be honest, he’s going to want to end up being with you.

- He’ll have met you during class when assigned a project with you. A bit cliché, but do you think he’d really have the guts to randomly walk up to you?

- You’d end up in conversations with him because of the constant pairing together and this helped the both of you find out you had similar interests. He loved the same genre of music, had the same sense of humor, and made you laugh half of the time because of his stupid jokes.

- Eventually, Stan tried to see you whenever he was free and his friends weren’t tagging behind. A lot of this was during your walk to classes.

- He’d have to race to his right after and sometimes even arrived late because of you.

- Wendy was the first to get suspicious of the behavior because it’s her ex after all and she wasn’t done with her constant off-and-on relationship with him.

- They got into a huge fight about it and that ended up putting the idea in Stan’s head instead. (Poor Wendy. Happens to the best of us.)

- Might’ve caused a complete break-up between them.

- First time he didn’t go goth because of it! (Really, it’s because of you.)

- But, that didn’t mean he didn’t drink.

- And that also didn’t include the fact he was beginning to think of you in that way which in turn made him began to avoid you.

- His races to his classes turned into him racing out of the classes he had with you to the bathroom.

- After a couple of weeks of him doing this, you concluded it had to do something with Wendy, but you thought he was distancing himself to get her back.

- The depression hit hard. Despite you having an attraction towards him, you tried to convince yourself you were okay.

- You WEREN’T.

- Neither was he. He had to choose between telling you about his feelings or being an asshole by ditching you to get himself plastered enough so he could forget about it. Mind you, he thought he was deep in the friendzone. To him, telling you the truth was setting himself up for rejection.

- You were both oblivious to each other’s suffering until the two of you were invited to the same party.

- Because you were having such a hard time dealing with the random drift from Stan, you decided to go and feel your best by getting dressed up.

- Alcohol was another convincing factor. Ironic considering that was the same reason why he was going.

- When you arrived at the party, you navigated around and talked with a couple of friends before asking where the drinks were. That’s where you would stumble upon the drunk raven-haired boy with a vodka bottle that had been chugged by him to the very middle.

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ Start of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Stan laid back against the wall of the kitchen, taking another swig of the vodka he had, and reaching up to slap a hand against the counter when his eyes locked with yours. He slowly lifted himself up, swaying like he was about to collapse any second. “Oh fuck, why’d you have to be here? I think I’m going to be sick,” he covered his mouth while loudly exclaiming that, turning to the side as if he was retching.

You automatically looked offended, your face scrunching up before you reared a hand back and slapped him across the cheek. HARD. That knocked the sense back into him because his eyes went wide and he quickly went to explaining himself, “Ow! OW! Hey, wait! No- *gag* It’s not because you’re terrible or anything! It’s cause-”

He couldn’t finish as once he looked down at your outfit, he sprawled straight for the sink, and puked his brains out. That’s when it clicked in your head. Stan threw up whenever he liked someone.

You stared at the bottle he held, freaking out in your thoughts about the situation, and going for it anyway. It wasn’t hard to take it out of his hold as he was focused on getting all the sick out of himself.

Taking a huge chug of the vodka, you coughed and sputtered when swallowing, wiping the sides of your mouth before grabbing the back of Stan’s shirt. He was dragged upstairs while you were finishing the rest of what was left, throwing the bottle on the floor afterward.

He slurred out what he was trying to say earlier as you both ascended to the next floor, “I’m not disgusted by you.! I like-” But, once again, he was cut off by another rise of bile up his throat. Right when you passed by the bathroom, he pulled away from you, making you follow with him before he toppled over the side of the tub to let it out.

“Jesus Christ, Stan. What is wrong with you?” You asked, concerned for his well-being at this point. He leaned his head to the side, spitting the rest, and turning on the shower to wash it away. Then he got up with a wobble. For the third time, he continued to try and explain, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just trying to tell you that I don’t get sick because I think you’re nasty. I’ve been trying to tell you that I think you’re-”

His face began to scrunch up and that’s when you stepped in, saying it for him with a yell, “I KNOW! I know, Marsh! I know you like me! I like you just as much, you don’t have to say it, you don’t have to acknowledge anything about this! Just stop and go back to Wendy like you have been!” Backing away, you put your hands up and closed your eyes, worried about the inevitable stream of disgusting stomach acid. But, nothing happened.

Instead, the sound of water met your ears and you opened your eyes to see the boy washing his mouth out. His blue eyes met yours, turning off the faucet, and standing back up to clear his throat, “I’ve been trying to say that for weeks now.” It was like a light switch had flipped in his demeanor and he was all of a sudden fine.

Stan continued, sounding a bit raspy because of how much he threw up, “I haven’t talked to Wendy ever since I had walked you to your house. That was the day I realized I… like you.” He hesitated but he managed to say it, looking surprised himself. You paused. It made sense. Around that time, his avoiding started.

There were no words you could give in the moment. You thought this entire time he had been chasing her while in reality, he was hooked on you. Nothing came out and no idea of what to say came to mind. He had officially broke you.

Moving forward slowly, his gaze flickered down to your lips, giving you the signal before leaning into a kiss due to his compulsive and drunk desires. If you weren’t going to tell him anything, he’d get you to respond in another way. Your lips were turning numb along with the rest of your body as you could feel yourself falling down the rabbit hole of a stupor. A part of you was slightly repulsed by the fact he was kissing you after all that happened, but he mostly tasted like the disgusting vodka rather than puke. Which was surprising to say the least.

It didn’t lead to a make-out as you moved to your knees instead, closing the bathroom door behind you, and hearing him lock it with a shaky voice following after, “Fuck, wait, I don’t want to end up getting sick on you. I’ve barely been able to get past a kiss, let alone a touch there. I don’t know if I could handle this.” He rambled and rambled while you unbuttoned his jeans, feeling his dick progressively getting hard already.

A sharp gasp left him when your fingers brushed passed it through his boxers, causing him to hold his breath while still trying to get through to you, “Seriously, [Y/N], I might throw up again!” You sighed and stood back up after his second warning, placing your hand on his chest to ease him down onto the toilet seat. He sat upright, his eyebrows knitted together as you finally responded, “If you do, aim for the tub or sink. I get horny when drunk and I don’t think I want to stop any time soon, Stanley.”

You went right back to getting on your knees in front of him and wrapped your hand around his shaft to jerk it off through the fabric, seeing a small dot of pre-cum began to form around where his tip was. He could feel the warm nauseating feeling travel up his esophagus, making him panic, and move his head to the side to avoid getting it on her while you traveled to get his underwear off of him. Wendy had never done something like this to him before. As soon as he vomited around her, she was quick to lose her appetite for it.

This was different. He felt himself bare and exposed after you succeeded in getting his lower clothes down to his knees. And this was the point where he was feeling it fill his cheeks, he tried to suppress it as much as he could, swallowing it and enduring it. It was like his body was going through an anxiety attack and all it was doing was constantly sending him in this cycle of emptying his stomach because of simple things he should be allowed to do as a man.

He didn’t have an answer to what was wrong with him, but what he did know was that it pissed him the fuck off. Regaining his strength, his hand reached up to your head and he requested something directly to you for the first time without one slightest hesitation, “Please, just keep encouraging me beautiful… and can you keep calling me by my- uh- full name?”

You gave his flushed pink tip kisses, swiping your tongue slowly across it before obliging to his ask while pumping his dick with one hand, “You’re doing an amazing job, Stanley. I’m so proud of you… Is that what you wanted? Does that make you feel good, my handsome boy?” A sly smirk spread onto her face as she looked up to see his shocked expression, wrapping her entire mouth around him and hollowing her cheeks.

Never in a million years would he think that a girl would hit dead on the spot of what he needed, jolts of pleasure running through his legs and lower stomach at the comments. Butterflies plagued him rather than nausea. And what he had been waiting for was happening, he was relaxing into a blowjob.

His hands went for her hair immediately to lace his fingers in between whatever he could, gripping it gently while the relief showed through his half-lidded eyes and his happy pants. Stan let out a choked moan along with an excited but still cracking voice, “I don’t feel.. it! God, this is.. actually amazing… Please, please don’t stop… Keep going, [Y/N]!”

Bobbing your head up and down patiently, you picked up your pace minute by minute, watching as the boy lost it at the feeling. You were too good to him. Your suction on him was tight and you made sure your cheeks were pressed up against your teeth just enough to create the best possible experience for him.

Stan’s chin tilted up to the ceiling while curses spilled, “Fuck, fuck, why do you… have to feel so good?” You could see veins popping around his neck and his Adam’s apple moving up and down from the noises escaping him. His legs were starting to move inward towards themselves, knees about to touch, and his dick was beginning to throb in your mouth. You knew what this meant right away.

“I’m not going to be able to make it for that long if you feel this amazing, god damn it,” he choked out, his fingers digging into your scalp, but not on purpose. To solve this, you popped your mouth off of him and decided to use the time for his cool down to catch your breath.

He looked at you, confused and flustered, his dick inches away from your face. It was twitching and the pre-cum kept leaking because of how pent up he was. You snickered, “I thought you were going to get sick on me? Am I the first one you haven’t vomited on?”

Staring at you for a moment while catching his breath too, he fixed his messy hair, and shakily replied, “Yeah, technically.” You raised your eyebrows before smiling bashfully like that was a compliment. And maybe it was. But, you shouldn’t get too ahead of yourself.

Returning back to the activity at hand, you littered the sides of him with kisses, turning your focus to the veins wrapping around it which received a lot of feedback from him. “Woah, woah! Straight to it, huh?” His groans were amplified. It was like he got ten times more sensitive because you edged him.

It didn’t take much of you going back to sucking him to cause his orgasm rushing back. He was teetering on the edge, using the counter and anything else that he could grab on to vent by digging his fingernails into them.

Tears brimmed his eyes and he didn’t want to tell you that he was near, but he also didn’t want you to have a risk of choking. So, he confessed again, “I’m going to! I’m going to, you can stop…” He didn’t know why you were teasing him like this. But, for some reason, he enjoyed it too.

This time, you didn’t pull away. You picked up your pace instead. And that made him nearly knock off everything on the counter. He instinctively stood up, grabbing your head, and in the last final minute he had your mouth wrapped around him; he fucked hard into your throat and let out the cum he had been penting up since the last time he got to interact with you.

The groans that left him were loud and breathy, his eyes almost closing from how tired he got because of the amount of alcohol that was in his system. You were swallowing as much as you could to keep yourself from possibly throwing up yourself due to choking.

Eventually, every bit was dumped out of him and he pulled you off to let you breathe. You gasped for air and glared at him. Stan realizing what he did then and apologizing right away, “Oh crap, I didn’t mean to do that! I was trying to be careful, I’m so sorry!”

Proceeding to apologize to you for the rest of the night after that, the two of you had returned to walking each other home, feeling a long in your heart to remain by each other’s sides when you had to return to your separate dorm rooms. One thing was for certain though. You and Stan were going to have a lot of secrets that the title friends could only cover.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ End of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

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#2 ; Kyle Broflovski

The song that I thought fit this best :

Sexual Dynamic : Vanilla-esque.

What's in here : Slow sex, slightly experienced Kyle, and facial ejaculation.

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- Oh no. Here we go. Now, Kyle, he’s a different story when it comes to getting into a friendship like this.

- He’d probably be easier to convince than Stan, but that’s if you were direct and honest with him.

- You’d have to be somewhat close with him enough to get to that conversation so I would say about five months into meeting him through mutual friends at the lunch tables. At some point, both of you would come across each other and have an in-depth conversation.

- He’s a sucker for intellectual people so once you’re bringing up your collections of books and the fact you make regular visits to the library, this guy’s interest shoots through the roof.

- Eventually, you’re the only thing he starts talking about with his friends and they all start to notice him drifting off in daydreams during class.

- This was about a couple of weeks into the friendship.

- The nerd just couldn’t stop eyeballing you. It didn’t help that he really admired your style and the way you dressed as well.

- Stan pulled him to the side one day to have a talk with him about you and he managed to convince the curly redhead to ask you to hangout at his place.

- The idea was that he was going to watch a whole marathon of Harry Potter movies with you considering the two of you were huge fans of the series.

- You were immediately down as soon as he asked. If anything, you were cheering to yourself about it.

- Now, you could put your plan in action.

- The truth was that you had thought of the Broflovski in many ways that would be considered beyond unholy.

- And the fact his parents were going out for the weekend you were coming over too did not help the ideas popping up in your head.

- When it came upon the day you were coming over, you decided to put on your sexiest outfit yet.

- A short tennis skirt, a laced spaghetti-strapped crop top, and a pair of thigh highs was enough to do the trick.

- You arrived at his place a couple of minutes early but just enough to where you didn’t look crazy, secretly wearing nothing underneath on purpose for him.

- He had paid Stan to babysit Ike for him that day too.

- You were not the only one plagued with not-so-innocent thoughts the entire week leading up to it. Kyle had some things planned out in his head as well. Technically, a mutual agreement without saying a word.

- Kyle was fast in opening the door for you and once he saw what you were in, the red on his face was more than visible.

- Obviously, he couldn’t hide the fact he was staring and definitely interested in the sight you were giving him.

- He locked every lock on that door as soon as you got inside.

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ Start of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You hopped onto his couch the moment the warmth of the house enveloped you, causing you to sigh in content. The freezing temperatures of South Park made it impossible for a girl to get pretty but you weren’t letting that stop you. Your eyes landed back on Kyle who was dressed in a green long sleeve and brown pants.

His outfit was super cute, less risqué than yours, however, that did not matter. He still looked like a snack to you. And you were already willing to lunge for him. But, you kept your distance. For now.

The boy sat next to you and relaxed into the cushions along with, being the one to break the silence by complimenting what you were wearing, “I swear, you choose outfits that fit you too well sometimes.” Benefits of talking to a guy with brains was the way they word things. “You’re not helping my barely growing teenage brain here,” he added on as a joke. A part of you knew that he wasn’t entirely bluffing though.

This was proven when you glanced down at his lap to check if there was a sign and sure enough, a rising tent had appeared.

Kyle, quick to notice things, saw that you had peeked and grabbed for a pillow to sit it over his crotch. Embarrassed that he didn’t think of doing that as soon as his mind went south.

But, you weren’t going to ignore that. You couldn’t. Your eagerness was too much for you and the heat between your legs was screaming for you to get to moving. So, you huffed out, “I don’t think I want to help. I’m here for encouragement…” While scooting yourself to replace the pillow on his lap with your ass instead.

He tensed up, sucking a breath in, and using his hands to grip your hips. You could feel his boner poking your inner thigh, about to brush the spot you wanted it to the most which got you even more excited.

Kyle was just as excited, jabbering on as soon as you pressed down into him, “I was hoping you would say that. I didn’t think I could just be friends with you as much as I wouldn’t like to admit that…” His hips bucked upward into you repeatedly, rocking himself into a position where his hard-on could rub against you perfectly. Your eyes widened and a moan slipped out.

The front of his pants was starting to get wet from grinding up into your bare pussy, causing him to notice, and ask, “Are you wearing anything under that?” You shook your head no while biting your lip, moving one of your hands to grab your breast and the other to lift up your skirt.

He watched what you were doing with an aroused look to his green eyes, staring at your chest often. This gave you the idea to strip off your top and throw it to the floor.

What a good idea it was because it made Kyle leap to tug his pants off. His boxers followed with and out sprang his dick, hitting his chest from how hard it got. The freckled boy panted, a blush everywhere on his body, matching the color of his hair. He was unbelievably attractive like this.

You leaned down next to his ear to whisper while grabbing his shaft, “I’ve been wanting you inside me ever since Sophomore year.” Before pushing it inside of you and lowering yourself all the way down until you were sitting right on his v-line.

He shuddered and gripped onto you tightly, digging his head back into the couch from the pleasure that rushed through him at the warm, wet feeling wrapping around.

“You should’ve said something because I would’ve made that come true,” he said. That was the last thing that was spoken as the two of you got lost in sex. You began to bounce on him and he guided you to grind during the process. Your eyes drifting everywhere, going from dazing off at the wall, to looking at him without a single thought in the world other than how good he was making you feel.

Kyle was in the same state. Admiring you by skimming his hands across your sides and using his fingers to play with your nipples. After riding him for a couple of minutes and starting to sweat from the workout it was giving you, he flipped you to rest back onto the armrest.

He slowly rocked his dick into you, pushing into your walls, and digging for spots that made you gasp. His groans ended up being muffled into your neck as he buried himself in the crook of it, kissing against your skin, and creating hickies once he traveled enough.

During his slow fucking, he drifted his thumb over to your clit and rubbed it at a good pace that matched his thrusts. It had you constricting yourself around him until you were a shaking mess, cumming underneath his figure, and riding out the high with him.

The green-eyed boy pulled out when you finished, jerking himself off at a fast speed, and asking politely, “Can you open your mouth and level with it please?” Without hesitation, you lowered yourself to his dick and let him release all over your face.

You stuck your tongue out, feeling the sticky liquid decorate most of it before you swallowed the bit that landed there, looking up at him with a smile.

Both of you had to clean up more than watch movies after that, but that did not matter to you, whatsoever. The only thing that mattered from that point was the next weekend you had to plan with the Broflovski.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ End of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

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#3 ; Kenny McCormick

The song that I thought fit this best :

Sexual Dynamic : Masc!Dom | Fem!Sub

What’s in here : Praise/ degrading kink, lots and lots of positions, public sex, and a creampie.

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- Well, well, well. What most of you’ve been waiting for. The guy that obviously will take no time in making you his fuck buddy!

- It’s pretty obvious that right away he made his intentions clear and he communicated them with no problem.

- And that’s exactly why you were into him.

- Kenny has an eye for girls that like to have a fun time and you happened to be one with a big reputation of rebellion.

- You loved ditching class, hating the kids, the work being too stressful, and all of the above was the reason why.

- And he was often caught back there as well. So, sooner or later, you came across each other on one of your breaks from the shitty school environment and took it together.

- Might have ended up in the mutual agreement of being FWB’s right then and there which lead to you giving the boy his first non-std infected blowjob.

- The thing that had gotten in your way, however, was the fact you had strict parents and this meant you had no way of getting out of the house to meet up with him.

- To make things worse and add the cherry on top, this started around the end of the school year and the both of you ended up having no way to contact each other because of this.

- Those two months for both you and Kenny were perhaps one of the most depressing periods of time in your life.

- After dealing with this, College had started and your parents began to let you have more freedom because you were becoming an adult.

- You were frustrated at the timing, the blonde-haired boy on the back of your mind the entire time they spoke to you about it. And the more you had longed to see him again.

- The first day of College arrived some time later and you had no idea what to expect.

- There was an uneasy feeling. You knew that Kenny wasn’t financially well off and you didn’t know if he was good grade-wise so it left you with the weight of finding out whether or not he was attending.

- Throughout the whole school day, you looked for him, high and low, low and high. Everywhere.

- He wasn’t in any single one of your classes. None of his friends were too. It seemed like all hope was lost and that the inevitable had happened.

- But, before you could end up back in that same pit of sadness, during the walk out of one of your classes to go to another; you passed by the stairs and someone grabbed you.

- Not knowing who it was, you put up a bit of a fight, losing pretty badly considering the person was quite strong, ending up behind the crevice of the stairs anyway.

- When you came face-to-face with the man that dragged you away, you squealed for joy.

- It was, of course, the McCormick.

- Both of you collided into a huge hug and stayed there for a while, cherishing each other’s warmth and smell.

- He’ll always have that faint smell of weed on him, but, it made him hotter in a way.

- It didn’t take long for the hug to turn into an elated talk.

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ Start of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Where have you been? How has life been treating you, Ken?” You asked while shoving his arm playfully, tilting your head to the side. He smirked at your behavior, finding it cute, before responding casually, “Honestly, it could be better. But, I’ve been doing okay. Now, that I’m getting to see my smokin’ hot babe again though, I think it’s more than great!” His nickname that he gave you made you crack up and blush at the same time.

Laughing along with you, he repeated the question, aiming it toward you this time. Your expression quickly dropped for a minute and when you remembered that he could pick up on that, you tried to play it off, “Oh, yeah! Uh, I’ve been okay too. Just been working my ass off in keeping my room clean so my parents won’t take my phone for the millionth time.”

A sigh left him hearing that and he clicked his tongue in disappointment, shaking his head side to side while leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Still dealing with them? Damn, I’m all for parents making sure their kids are doing what they’re supposed to and actually taking care of em’, but, when you’re practically shoving your nose in their ass, that’s a problem,” he complained.

You agreed, “Tell me about it.” Rolling your eyes, you copied his body language by leaning too. Having dealt with them being this way since twelve, he didn’t even know half of it.

Silence began to fall onto your ears as Kenny opted for staring at you other than continue the conversation, his blue eyes scanning down your body, ultimately going for his perverted tendencies by lingering on your breasts a little too long. You snickered in response to this, “Really? You’re going to stare? You know you have hands, right pretty boy?”

Teasing him was just what you needed to do to make him budge as the McCormick turned to pin you to the wall, leaning down to get to your eye level. He gave you a small, soft kiss on the lips before pulling away to began lifting your shirt up above your head with a retort, “You should watch what you’re saying or else you’re going to end up being humiliated in front of a whole bunch of people, [Y/N].” So, he was saying your name now?

You decided you wanted to see if he would go that far by testing him, snaking your hand up to his waistband before shoving it inside of his pants without any struggle. Starting to rub him through his boxers right away, Kenny let out a grunt and pressed his forehead against yours while his brows furrowed.

Your voice lowered only for him to hear what you were telling him, “Do it. Fuck me so hard that everybody will know who’s screwing me that good.” His breath got shaky at that and you felt his cock throb in your hold.

He started tugging at his pants, bringing them down to his ankles along with his underwear from how eager he was after hearing what you said. A feeling of regret haunted you for a second when you glanced at the size of him, forgetting how huge he was until you got to see it in front of you.

But, that was overshadowed by how horny it also made you. Your own shorts were being thrown to the ground with the rest of the clothes. Eventually, leaving you both naked in front of each other.

Kenny was the quickest into getting in action, massaging your tits with both of his hands while moving his mouth to latch onto your neck. He made a couple of hickies working his way to your collarbone, running his fingers from your nipple to what’s in between your legs to rub your clit in circles for a minute.

Getting bored with this, he switched it up by continuously kissing lower and lower. Still sucking on certain spots to get it to bruise. He was marking you up and you were enjoying every single one. You moaned softly, trying to keep quiet, but loud enough for him to hear. After all, you didn’t want to actually get spotted doing this with him and end up expelled.

When he got to your pussy, his arms slid into the crevices of your thighs before he lifted both of them, spreading them across the wall. Then his mouth put all of the attention onto it.

Kenny licked your folds repeatedly at first to get a taste of your juices, gliding his tongue over your sensitive bud, and swirling it in a pattern to get you to make more noises for him. You were restless, grinding up into his face, and tugging onto his hair the moment he got to flicking side-to-side.

He went at it for a couple, causing you to cover your mouth midway through because of how much your voice was raising. It felt amazing. Like you were floating from how good his technique was.

Covering you with his spit from how messy he ate you out, you jutted your hips up and began to grind on his face. Around his mouth was a mess, spreading to his nose, and cheeks. He looked deep into your eyes the whole time he did it and switched to sucking your clit for the finale.

The blonde-haired boy got you to cum from that alone. Letting you roll on him like he was your new personal chair and smother his head with your thighs until pure bliss was the one thing showing in his expression.

Your juices spilled onto him, some landing where his dick was which worked out for lubrication in the long run. He stood back up, glistening in the sun from all the wetness, telling you with a smooth tone, “Turn around for me and put that ass up, baby.”

With shaky legs from the orgasm you had, you did what he said and bent over, your cheek pressed up on the cold bumpy surface. “Look at that… You’re being such a good little whore for your best friend,” Kenny cooed while grabbing your head and pushing you up against it; positioning himself with your entrance and sliding in easily. The both of you moaned out in satisfaction.

You had been waiting for him to do this to you for so long. And it didn’t hurt as bad as you thought it would. In fact, the big size and girth gave you the feeling of being full.

He sent loud slaps through the wall once he rammed his first set of thrusts into you, being fucked aggressively in doggy style despite you not being far from your peers and a death sentence from your parents.

The wet sounds mixing along with it didn’t help. And you were so sensitive that it made it impossible for you to hold your breath. The whining, yelps, and panting all at a high enough pitch that it was beginning to echo. You were going to get caught if he didn’t finish soon. Both of you would. But, for some reason, that didn’t sound as threatening as it should.

Your sense of danger was dulled from how hard he was railing you. And how turned on you were from it. Like he had molded you into being stupid for the time being.

You raked your nails on the wall and arched your back more, pleading out to him, “Faster, Kenny! Please, hurry up… I don’t want to get in trouble!” He paused as if he wasn’t expecting to hear that, but responded once it registered, “Okay, though you asked for this…”

Quickening his pace, your eyes shut and you used your hand to muffle yourself by biting onto it, crying out from his dick practically reaching into your stomach. He groaned, watching the display for himself to memorize, and slightly impressed at how dirty this hook-up was. You were going to be his favorite, for sure.

His end began to near around the time the bell was about to ring again, people about to fill the halls any second now while you’re being pummeled by the biggest pervert in school. You murmured curses quietly, feeling him grab both of your wrists while chasing his high as fast as he could. Tears left your eyes when Kenny finally reached it.

He didn’t pull out. Instead, he fucked his jizz inside of you and pumped every last drop he could. “Fuck! Fuck, that’s right… Take as much as you fucking can.” His dirty words were like music to your ears and the way his cum filled you to the brim made you hum. Drool dripping down the side of your mouth from how out of it you were.

Although, he was put in a tricky situation considering you could no longer walk and he possibly could’ve got you pregnant, a huge derpy smile stayed on Kenny’s face for the rest of the time he was with you. No one had seen him that happy ever. So, there was a lot of questions you had to answer when the boy ended up confessing that it was because of you. Who knew it was so hard to keep a secret with the McCormick.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ End of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

════════════════════════

#4 ; Craig Tucker

The song that I thought fit this best :

Sexual Dynamic : Masc!Sub | Masc!Dom

What’s in here : Yandere Craig (doing it cause I felt like it), mentions of murder, rough/painful sex, and a cumshot with a creampie.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

- Well fuck, this guy had known you for so long that he could barely remember when he first met you.

- But, that didn’t mean you two were close.

- You were simply friends from afar before ending up complete nobodies to each other around the time college came about.

- Or that’s what you thought.

- Craig had only stopped talking to you, he didn’t completely stop from hanging around you.

- Meaning that he would often drop by the places he knew you were hanging around to sit nearby and watch what you would do.

- This wouldn’t be creepy if it weren’t for the fact that the only place you liked to be inside was your dorm room. So, he was watching you from your window.

- It was easy for him considering the two of you were neighbors and whenever he wasn’t occupied with his love life, he’d be lost in staring at you playing the guitar or even go as far as watching you change.

- At some point, his infatuation with you peaked after coming across a late night masturbation session you were having, forgetting to close the blinds which let him have access to the scene.

- You had no shirt on, your pants barely above your knees, watching something on your computer screen. And his body was quick to react when he looked down.

- He got an idea to bring out his camera and record you, taking the moment to have fun himself.

- After jerking off and cumming around the same time with you, muttering your name in the middle of it, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to sit beside and just watch you forever.

- With an entire month of constantly recording you, breaking into your room and taking some of your clothes. Even stealing pencils that you broke out of boredom from the trash to keep in his drawer and watching you get drunk until you hooked up with random woman. Craig spiraled downward into an unhealthy obsession.

- He couldn’t stand it when seeing you flirt with girls despite knowing that you had no knowledge of his existence.

- If you took them home or went home with them, they would end up missing the next day.

- Craig didn’t know why he did it. He just simply felt the motive. Maybe it was because they were girls and he was a boy or maybe because he was in love with you. Honestly, he didn’t want to think on it.

- It got out that some of these woman were disappearing around your area and you ended up finding out it was the ones you hooked up with when the police were at your door.

- You were questioned and put as the number one suspect because you were the last person seen with them. And this confused and scared you badly.

- The police were convinced you were telling the truth by the way you reacted to the interrogation. Answering all of their questions sincerely, even telling them details of that night you had with them but not going too far to where it was weird.

- Also, the devastation on your face was easy to see. So they left you alone.

- However, this haunted you and you became desperate on trying to find out more about what happened to the girls by asking around. As well as waiting for more information from the investigation.

- The black-haired boy had to keep a low profile after and thanked himself for dumping the bodies in the lake further ahead of time.

- He was oddly disappointed in himself because of what he had done. Not because he had taken the lives away from innocent girls, but because he made your life become so hectic and had you go through so much stress.

- After the ordeal was dying down and the cops were coming to a dead end, the cases went cold and Craig went about his daily life of stalking you once again.

- You did not come back from this okay. Actually, it lead you to distancing from people romantically and sexually because you were afraid they would disappear.

- Landing you in therapy to get over the traumatic experience and depression that was swallowing you whole. Making you lose all of your friends and end up alone.

- And who would’ve known that Craig happened to need to go to the same therapist too? After his parents had found him talking to a wall and carving an initial into himself, your initial.

- He was admitted out of self harm. But, really, he was coping with the fact he couldn’t follow you during the search for the kidnapper of your flings.

- This gave him an opportunity to get to know you though as you crossed paths often when waiting in the lobby for appointments.

- One day, he told himself he was going to try and greet you. It should be easy because you both used to know each other, right?

- But this lead to him dodging it as soon as he got near you.

- You could be thirty feet away and Craig was standing there, panicking in his head, his face the exact opposite with barely any emotion present. Contradicting his stoicism, his heartbeat was racing.

- Your eyes had glanced over and ended up locking with his, raising a brow like you were questioning him.

- Then he saw you get up and began to head over to him.

- He became extremely nervous and excited all at the same time, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath to ready himself before you were right in front of him.

- His blue eyes were intense and burrowed themselves into your head as you got to finally talk to the guy you’d been seeing around.

- Might have been an socializing assignment your therapist gave you so you can repair your relationship with people. Fucked up considering he’s the one that ruined it in the first place.

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ Start of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“I remember you! You’re the guy that lived in my neighborhood! Your name’s Craig, right?” You gave him a chipper smile, taking off your headphones to rest them on your shoulders. Craig had froze and stared at you blankly before rushing to find something to respond with, “Uh, yeah, I happen to be that guy.” It came out more awkward than he had wanted it to but who could blame him? He was talking to the boy he had been immensely infatuated with for months now who was acting extremely casual.

You laughed in victory at the correct guess and placed out a hand for him to shake, telling him why you approached, “That’s great! I had been looking for some more friends actually as I’ve went through something a little while ago and it’s left me a bit lonely. You think you could be my friend?”

He didn’t know how to register what you were saying but he wasn’t upset about it in the slightest. Although, his mind wasn’t concluding this as you two being ‘friends’. Grabbing your hand, he shook it and forgot to not put so much force, ending up yanking you a little too forward.

Your face collided with his chest due to losing your balance, making him catch you, and help you regain it by making you hug him. It didn’t help that you were at his height too because as soon as you pulled back, your nose was almost touching his. His eyes were back to burning themselves into yours, an electric feeling running through you at the moment. ‘Why did he look at me like that?’ you wondered, ‘Like I’m the most interesting thing in the world.’

Craig had to hold himself back from doing anything stupid and last minute, tensing up and slowly getting you to move back to where you were by grabbing both of your shoulders. You blinked rapidly and muttered out an apology, “My bad, I didn’t mean to fall into you and stay there, you just got really pretty eyes man.” That wasn’t a lie, you did think the color was super nice to look at.

But this compliment hit him way harder than it should’ve. And he found himself beginning to blush, blurting out a compliment back before he could think, “So are yours.”

The both of you were becoming flustered, looking at each other for a minute until you thought of another topic to talk about, trying to save yourself from spawning a crush on the guy. “So, what do you like to do in your spare time?” you went for that. And instead of answering, he asked you another question, “Do you smoke?”

Your eyes went wide as you watched him reach into his pocket and pull out a blunt the size of a finger, staring at it in disbelief. This was the weirdest interaction you’ve had yet. And how did he know that you were okay with that? And smoked weed? Did you smell like it? All these questions ran through your head but at some point, you had to answer him, and free drugs were a hard thing to come by, so you were honest, “Yeah, I do.”

A part of you felt pumped about it while another was a bit weirded out. However, you forgot about it quickly as soon as the blue-eyed man started walking away. You began to follow behind him, keeping up enough to watch his back the entire way, and admiring the trees every second or so when you got bored.

It was quiet. Not a word exchanged between them. That was because Craig was over his head. He was piecing something together in his thoughts, forming a plan, one that wasn’t what you would call sane. But, that was because he simply wasn’t. He couldn’t pretend like he hadn’t been thinking of you in a certain way for a long time. Like he hadn’t killed for you because of it.

As he lead you to a nearby alleyway he went to when he wanted to watch you in private, his back turned and he was facing you again. This place was damp and dark, the smell not the best, but it was away from society. And that was perfect for this.

The ravenette rested against the wall and lifted the blunt in between his fingers to rest right on his lips before reaching into his pocket to pull out a lighter. He lit the end of it, resting the flame on the tip for a couple of seconds as he sucked in a huge cloud that left his mouth the second he blew it out.

Holding it out to you afterward, a trail of smoke drifted from the cherry while you took it in your own two fingers. You took a hit from it just like he did, knowing that this was a really good kind as soon as you tasted how smooth the bud was. Your eyes closed and you held it in for five seconds before letting it out until all the air escaped your lungs so you didn’t die from coughing.

Hissing through your teeth, you ended up still letting out a grunt and cleared your throat to ease the burn in the back of your throat. “Shit, that’s a pretty good strain, what is it?” you asked in the middle of your struggle.

Craig took another drag and doubled it while responding nonchalantly like it was nothing, “It’s called Azul. I grew it.” He glanced down at the blunt to check on its burning status and decided it needed another light.

After getting it bright again, he handed it back to you and let you take a couple more puffs, putting his hands in his pockets. An impressed look crossed your face and what he said piqued your curiosity, you asked like you didn’t believe him, “Really?? You’re a grower? Don’t you go to my school and dorms?” It seemed you were going to get along with this guy way more than you thought you would.

More time passed as the two of you progressively got higher and higher each pass, ending up with you laughing contagiously at a joke he had made about a lady that passed by. You would’ve normally quietly chuckled and try to contain it because of how mean it was as you didn’t want to feel bad. But, the state you were in was more than relaxed.

A small smile appeared on Craig while he watched you lose it, “Dude! That’s so messed up… Come on!” You hit his arm and rested your head on his shoulder from being out of it, mumbling into his sweater. He put out the blunt then because he knew that any more would be way too much. Once you got to lift your head and rest your chin on him, he turned his toward you.

He looked down, so close that you could feel his breath brushing against you, and that made your heart stop. Muttering quietly, his questions took a turn that you didn’t expect, “Have you ever kissed a guy before?” Almost instantly, you could feel your dick starting to rise, causing you to cover it with your hand while responding in an unsure tone, “No…”

When your eyes flickered down to his lips after the mention of it though, he was fast to press them against yours. You didn’t resist but you didn’t return it either. Letting him softly kiss you before he pulled away to conclude, “Now you have. How did it feel?”

It was like the oxygen had left you. You couldn’t wrap your mind around why you liked that so much. And the fact he tasted like raspberries was not helping. Was a guy really going to be the one that gave you the best kiss of your life?

He frowned when you took forever to answer, sighing through his nose, and pulling away with a rejected tone, “Fuck, well, sorry I made you question your sexuality, [Y/N].” Before he could get far, you grabbed his collar and made him go back to where he was but ended up overestimating how far you were tugging him. He stumbled forward and pushed you up against the wall, both of his hands landing on both sides of your head to catch himself while your noses touched.

Craig held a glare with you, confused. He didn’t understand why you weren’t saying anything but also refusing to kiss him back as well. Were you into it? Did you want to? You still couldn’t open your mouth to put it into words, in denial about what was happening. But, you gave him something to let him know that it wasn’t bad by returning the kiss gently.

You were barely brushing up into him like you were shy of the action. And he understood that it was because you hadn’t done it in a while so he savored what he could. You were kissing him. Finally, he had gotten what he wanted. He was the one locking lips with you. Not anybody else.

His hands drifted to your sides, slowly moving to your waist so he could hook his fingers at the bottom of your shirt. Knowing where this was going, a knot formed in your throat and you placed your hands on his chest to push him away. “I don’t know if I can go that far,” you finally said something. It wasn’t because you didn’t want to. It was because you couldn’t stop worrying about his safety. All that you could think about was his name in the news headlines and pictures of his chullo hat covered in blood laying in some bushes.

Your breathing went out of control and he could tell you were about to go into a panic attack, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he saw the signs, remembering them from the times you were in your dorm room crying about the interrogation months ago.

There was that guilty feeling in his chest. It made his heart heavy. He didn’t want you to feel like this. Especially when all this worry was for nothing. So, he decided to mumble out the best reassurance he could think of, “I don’t know what’s going on with you. I have no idea what had happened to that friendship we had for a minute back then too. You’ve been out of the loop for quite a while, [Y/N].” He moved back to stare directly at you with sincerity in his voice, “All I know is that kissing someone has never felt so right and if I could, can I make you feel safe enough to trust me with your body for tonight?”

That was the most convincing someone has ever been. And this high helped you calm yourself while using the breathing techniques your therapist gave. You bit your bottom lip before sighing out in frustration, looking around at where you were, and then exclaiming, “Fine! But, can we please do it somewhere else other than a fucking disgusting alleyway?”

Craig stared at you like you were crazy until his face twisted from holding back laughter, ending up bursting at the seams anyway as it sputtered out of him. “You’re right. This isn’t the place to be screwing a pretty boy like you,” he slyly said as he began to head out of the alleyway. You ran after him, trying to brush off what he said but still feeling the butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Eventually, the two of you made it inside of your dorm room, the Tucker locking the door behind you with a snide remark, “So, are you going to answer my question from earlier? How was kissing a boy for the first time?”

You forgot about that. Your mind flashing back to the memory of the kiss, vividly remember how soft his lips were, and how patient he was in his pace. He was aggressive but soft. A perfect mixture. Snapping out of it, you stammered out, “I hadn’t kissed someone in quite a while… Or well, a girl. And it was always quick-paced like they were in a rush to get to the good parts. But with you… Well, with a boy, it was like you couldn’t get enough. That, I think, made it practically impassable.”

What you said made Craig sit in your computer chair and stare at you in awe, reaching his hand up to pull off his hat, and placing it down on your desk. He reached out his hand for yours now and murmured, “Come over here and sit.” You walked over to him and took it, about to actually prop yourself down onto his lap before he stopped you right as you were. “Wait. I need to fix something,” he said as he went to unbutton your pants.

Taking in a sharp inhale through your nose , his hands wasted no time in tugging them off along with your boxers. “Fuck, you move fast. Hold on, let me prepare myself at least,” you sounded embarrassed and you were because your hard-on was so visible. He chuckled at that, “Okay then. I’ll get myself undressed while you can work on getting those off.”

Your eyes couldn’t help but get a look at Craig starting to take his jacket and shirt off, automatically checking him out, and to your surprise, he was pretty built. He noticed you staring and teased, “If you want to see all of it, get to moving, I want to see you too.” That was a bargain you couldn’t say no to, holding your breath as you gripped around the hem of your boxers.

Then you pulled them off, letting them fall to your ankles, tugging your shirt off afterward to get it out of the way. The only thing left on you was your socks and the same was for him a couple of seconds later.

He eyed you up and down with his blue orbs, reaching for your wrist, and pulling you back into touching your knees with his. Both of his hands placed onto your shoulders and began lowering you down until you were coming face-to-face with his huge dick, watching it twitch with a slightly ajar mouth.

“You’re going to have to get it wet if you want to go any further, pretty boy,” he whispered, grabbing your chin to guide your mouth toward him. You couldn’t believe you were doing this, opening wide before taking the tip and wrapping your lips around it. Craig grunted and put a hand on your head, gripping onto your hair to deal with the pleasure.

The texture was different than you expected to feel on your tongue but it was also satisfying in a way. And it didn’t take long for you to get into swallowing most of his length, easing it into your throat, and tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum the more you sucked.

Grabbing harder onto you, he moved his hips upward and made all of his dick go down into your mouth. This caused you to gag and jolt backward, coughing and making a face at him. “What the fuck, man,” you angrily said and got back up onto your feet.

However, Craig was extremely impatient by this point and he could no longer hold up the soft facade he had with you anymore. He stood up with you and within seconds, you were slammed down into your bed while his hand dug into your neck, tightening around your throat to make you choke more than you had on him.

Noises squeaked out of you while the air was leaving you, his other hand positioning himself to your ass and spitting on it to get you ready. He rubbed it around and made you shudder, having never been touched there which caused it to feel super sensitive.

He made both of your legs wrap around his waist once his tip began to push inside, slowly stretching your hole out as you grabbed his wrist to try and pull his hand off of you. It hurt so bad. His size bigger than most so it made it almost numbing the more he slid into you. Your eyes were struggling to stay open as you were close to passing out from the loss of oxygen.

That’s what made him stop. He removed his hand from your neck and balled up both of them into fists, punching them into the pillow your head was resting on while rearing his hips back. He made his entire dick slide out before forcing it back in, making it feel like he was tearing your ass apart from the roughness. You screamed out, “FUCK! CRAIG! WAIT! WAIT, IT HURTS!”

Slapping a hand to cover your mouth, he continued to ram himself over and over into you, watching you take him with several groans slipping out. He was frantic in his movements and made your bed sound like it was about to give up underneath the strength he put into fucking you.

He made you forget about the anxiety alright. Letting you know why you didn’t have to be afraid of him being taken away but rather be afraid of him altogether. At the same time, you were being fucked into liking it. The sweat, slapping from the colliding of skin, and the shaking of your legs set up the perfect scenery for him. He got to see you fucked out underneath him, because of him, all for him. And that was all he needed.

Leaning into your neck, he finally came to a slow pace and rocked up into your walls, gliding his fingers down your chest to play with your tip and the pre-cum on it. Craig was giving you a break, wrapping his palm around the base of your dick until he was pumping it up and down at the exact pace he was thrusting into you. The combined pleasure was enough to get you to moan out in relief, “Much better… Oh, god, that’s much better…”

Another rare smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he moaned with you, burying all of his length for a moment before pulling back again to quicken his speed. “That’s what happens when you’re being a good fuck toy,” he praised. Jerking you off faster and faster as well.

You buried your head into the pillow and felt him start to kiss around your Adam’s apple, littering them around until his teeth brushed around a spot that made you jump. When he found it, he bit into the sensitive area and that caused everything in you to unravel. Your cum shot out on your chest and landed in between his fingers, spreading across his hand, and some even getting on his lower stomach.

He continued to rail himself in you for another long minute before reaching his end alongside you, the warm fluid escaping him with a loud growl, “[Y/N]! Shit… You’re so.. fucking… perfect.” Once he was finished completely and everything had emptied out into your hole, he slid his dick out. Letting the cum spill out onto your sheets while collapsing next to you to rest. The both of you stared at each other in a daze for the last moments you managed to stay awake and as you were about to pass out, Craig had confessed to you, “I think I love you…”

╚═════════════════════╝

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Sorry for any errors or misspellings! I had tried to rush through this little thing when I saw it was getting too long so progressively, it might’ve got worse. But, this is overall what I’ve been working on for a couple and I hope you enjoyed!

Stick around for some more if you want! I got plenty where that came from. And if you like the other fandoms I’m interested in, you would definitely want to follow. I’ll be releasing a lot of those soon!

#southpark #south park #south park fanfiction #south park fandom #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #craig tucker #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #craig tucker x reader #craig tucker x male reader #south park smut #south park headcanons #south park hcs #stanley is a bottom #kenny does not care where it is #and craig is a yandere #Spotify